WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

40. Leon Kennedy x OC 2

Fell by the Wayside

megumimidnight

Summary:

For the last five years, everything you've worked for has led up to this: uncovering the truth.
No matter who stands in your way, tries to instill fear in you, takes up a home in your heart. All of that had to mean less in comparison to who you treasure most. It had to.

Notes:

In celebration and honor of Leon's return in the RE4 remake, I've found myself writing something for him. Never planned to, never even thought I would stray to other fic genres than the ones I know and love, but I'm glad I am. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think! I'm not deep into the RE lore so this is new, incredibly fun, and not meant to follow anything strictly from the games. Leon's my favorite RE character, and I love writing for my favorite characters who deserve some happiness (,: If you're a fan of slow burn, angst, and a build up, this one's for you 3 Thank you for going on this journey with me!

Chapter 1: you're somewhere out there (i)

Chapter Text

At the forefront of your mind wasn't that you were soaked to the bone before your interview, or that your teeth were chattering. It wasn't the look on Claire's face through her tinted helmet. It wasn't even the sticky sensation of your clothes glued to your skin. It was, Is the rain a good omen… or a bad one?

"What the hell are you doing? Get inside!" Claire shouted over the rain as you pulled off the helmet. "Take that with you!"

What you had envisioned- and hoped for- was a pep talk from Claire before walking in with your head held high. Instead, this unforeseen rain storm had you ducking into the building, trailing water with each step, mind completely frazzled when all you could think about was the damn rain.

Barely touching down onto the chair in the waiting area, you heard your name being called. The young guy pursed his lips as he noted your appearance, but didn't say a word as he motioned for you to follow him.

There was no time to dry off, touch up your appearance, gather yourself.

You were diving into this like you had dived into everything for the past five years. Without much thought for anyone else.

"He's ready for you." The man said, stepping aside and signaling at the door in front of you.

Eyebrows raised, you turned toward the young man in question but he was already headed back the way you came. The door in front of you was plaque-less, resembling more of a supply closet than anything.

You knocked, then pushed open the door.

Your feet planted in the doorway at the sight of the man standing in the small seating area that was the entirety of the room, facing toward the only window. The room was dark from the storm and the cold of the interior design. He turned with the door opening.

"Chris Redfield," You said, because you didn't bother pretending like you didn't know him.

This wasn't who you were here to see, wasn't who was supposed to be meeting with you. He had no relation to this, which meant he had inserted himself.

He stared, no expression to read or nothing to offer you comfort. You realized then that all your plans had come crashing down even before you even got the opportunity to try. You gritted your teeth.

"Shut the door," was all he said.

Your first time meeting Claire's brother and he was exactly how you thought he would be from pictures. It took an impressive amount of self control not to slam the door behind you as you pushed it closed and stepped closer.

His eyebrow quirked and you recalled you likely weren't the poster post for interview ready. You figured you looked massively unprofessional but there was no going back. There never would be.

Him standing there, inserting himself in his sister's business- your business- burned you up.

"Why are you doing this?" You hissed.

He didn't say anything, just stood there with his arms crossed. His head tilted up, as if he were motioning to something.

Questioning, your head moved without thinking but he spoke before you could continue. "You know why."

"What do I have to do with you? You don't even know me. If you're worried about Claire, she's not involved-"

"She was involved the moment you confided in her. She didn't have to tell me anything. What you're doing is foolish."

"You don't know me and I don't need your protection."

"I'm not offering protection, I'm offering the reality. You're not getting recruited here."

He was formidable, he was the wall you hadn't foreseen having to climb. After cramming, studying, switching your major. After changing programs, training, and practically killing yourself to get the qualifications to be a part of something like this, it slipped away all with the swipe of his hand.

You shook your head, tried to push down the desire to beg. To plead. You knew it wouldn't be easy… right? You would find another way.

Except this was your ticket, wasn't it?

You swallowed down the wedge in your throat. Claire's helmet was still in your hands. You walked over to him and shoved it into his hands, spitting, "Give this to your sister for me," Before turning around and heading for the door. As you did, you glanced at the top corner of the room and saw the camera trained there, red light blinking.

Ah.

It really wouldn't be easy, would it?

On the way out, you saw how the guy who had greeted you was hiding a knowing smile behind a book and resisted the urge to cuss him out.

In under five minutes, your chance was crushed.

The rain was more relentless now. You didn't bother hanging around the entrance, moving off to the parking lot. Claire was due to pick you up whenever you texted her, but you considered just telling her you had found a ride home.

You looked at the unimpressive little building that you banked on holding all the answers. All the lights were on in the first floor, scattered lights throughout the rest. You were sure there were more floors than what was shown, too.

And Chris fucking Redfield had barred you from it.

Leaning on the short brick wall, you looked down at your clothes, thinking again of how you must've looked walking into that building.

Bad omen it was.

A smiling face, always a smiling face, peering at you in your thoughts as you tried to shove him away.

The rain had stopped- no, it was still pattering loudly overhead as you glanced up and saw a black umbrella shielding you. Your eyes flicked down to the person holding it- a man, around your age, rain pouring down on him and cascading down his dark leather jacket. His hair was already soaked through and hanging in his eyes, and when you looked at him, the look on his face and his hand moving toward you caused your hand to reach out in shock.

Your lips moved to protest, but your hand had already wrapped around the handle. He didn't wait around, didn't say anything, just ducked beneath the shade covering in the parking lot. His car was parked right in front of you.

He didn't look at you again as he turned his car on, or as he reversed out, but he did as the car slowed. Through the window, you saw his soaked hair once more and his hidden eyes before he was gone.

The sounds of the storm washed away the unusual stranger as you let yourself succumb to self pity. Just for a moment. Then you were digging your phone out of your bag. You flipped it open, heart twisting at the text from Claire, Kick ass and get this job.

A moment of pettiness had you considering telling her all about her annoying ass older brother who had snuffed out that dream before you'd even officially been interviewed, tested, and more.

You flipped the phone closed. Dug out your wallet. Flipped that open.

You stared at the bottom half of a photo booth strip.

Your clothes, the rain, Chris' stern face weren't even there anymore.

Closed your wallet. Opened it.

The photo strip was old and worn, and in them was a version of you that you could never get back.

You ignored the you in the top square, whose face was twisted as she grabbed at the arm holding her in a chokehold. It wasn't you that you cared about, no.

It was your brother, Carlos, big grin aimed at the camera.

Filling the space of that photo booth all the years ago, just like he filled every space. Including the gaping one festering inside you.

The hole that was eating you alive since he disappeared without a trace, five years ago after the fall of Raccoon City.

Chapter 2: on your own, kid (ii)

Notes:

some chapters are shorter than others, but don't worry. you'll see i get a little carried away later on. would anyone be interested in knowing songs i listen to while i write? i typically have a playlist for whatever i'm writing so if anyone's curious or similar to me like that, let me know!

Chapter Text

It had taken approximately two days for Claire to find out what happened. It wasn't a record breaking time, but it was still impressive. You didn't personally know Chris, had never met him prior to a few days ago, but you knew his status. You secretly considered the only person tough enough to take him down was Claire.

The banging at your apartment door barely ceased when you pulled it open, a furious face and furious red jacket shoving her way through, "Why didn't you tell me it was him?"

"Doesn't matter."

"It does," She reeled on you as you calmly closed and locked your front door. She planted her hands on her hips, then crossed her arms. You frowned at the resemblance to her brother before you returned to your previous task- mulling over the documents on your coffee table. "I won't let him do this."

You scoffed. "You have confidence, I'll give you that."

"Don't be a dick."

You looked up, saw how genuinely upset she was. You set down the paper in your hand, took

the moment to look past your own shit and realize the one thing you were good at was taking her for granted. "Sorry. You're right. But… you know I'm right, too."

Claire sank down into the couch beside you. "All these years, all our lives, Chris is the only person in the world who can make me feel like I'm the strongest… and like a child."

"Claire," You waited until she tilted her head to look at you, "You're the strongest person I know."

Maybe it was fate, but you figured it was a lucky coincidence the two of you had ever crossed paths.

Claire was as much of a badass as her well known brother, resilient and passionate about

helping everyone who has had the unfortunate luck to be directly or indirectly affected by Bio Organic Weapons. Though she's more behind the scenes, she is your definition- as well as many others- of a hero. You supposed you were one of those people she helped.

Back in the earlier days, when a more inexperienced and naive version of you was running around and trying to find the right person to talk to about finding Carlos, the noise you made had caught her attention.

She herself had survived the destruction of Racoon City, and was aware of the corruption lying underneath. At the time, she had been warning you that the noise you were making was already drawing the attention you didn't need. So you heeded her advice and went back to the drawing board. You little by little earned each other's trust, friendship, and a plan for moving forward.

With her advice, you managed to avoid drawing unnecessary attention, but you now realized it must've not been as conspicuous as you both wanted if Chris was getting involved.

"Telling you would just make it worse. He doesn't want you involved and you are."

"I'm not a little girl anymore," She said without any bite. It was true, she was more than capable of handling her own. She survived Raccoon City on her own, and had done incredible work since. Her hand found yours and you stiffened, eyes going forward and refusing to move from the turned off tv. "It's not over."

"Years. Years, Claire. And nothing." You shrugged. "Maybe-"

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't you fucking-" Your eyes widened when she sprung up, facing you with something you could only describe as betrayal, "You haven't wavered once in all these years. In that torturous ass training, in your studying, in-" She threw her hands up, "God, you've molded yourself into the perfect little agent for the government. It took time, but we're here. You're here. And Chris isn't going to take this from you. I won't let him."

With her last words, she stormed out.

You stared at the front door, the ability to breathe slowly trickling away. The image of late nights over wine or beer when Claire's face would grow haunted. When her laughs would cut off. When silences would drag out. Of the vague but horrible details she had recounted of that day.

Like Chris, you didn't want her involved either.

Rubbing your palms into your eyes, you forced yourself to take deep breaths.

She wasn't going to get Chris to budge.

You would find another way.

Whatever it takes.

If you didn't find Carlos, you would find out what happened to him.

Whatever it takes.

Because back then, when you were in school, enjoying life, hardly sparing a thought for him, he was facing the horrors of Raccoon City. Something had happened to him, and you would die before you let him be erased. You would die to discover the truth.

You flipped open your wallet.

Looked down at his grinning face.

Whatever it takes.

Chapter 3: i know my destination (iii)

Notes:

I have several chapters already written, so I figured I would post a couple more this weekend and in the following days. Six more days until the RE4 Remake! I saw how it's received 10/10 ratings and that gets me even more excited.

-august

Chapter Text

Wake up, dumbass. You're going to be late.

"For what?" You groaned.

Aw, you already forgot? Going to miss me that much, kid? You're supposed to be the genius of the family. Big day..

"You're the dumbass," You muttered, hiding a smile in your pillow.

Wake up now!

Your eyes shot open, the traces of an urgent voice that made your throat tighten fading away at the blaring of your ringtone. You should chuck the shit across the room, but seeing Claire's name, you decided to grant it forgiveness this one time.

"Yes?" You sighed.

"Tell me you love me."

"I tolerate you."

"Close enough. Get dressed in your most business casual outfit. I mean, really knock the socks off these white collar motherfuckers-"

"What are you talking about?" You said, exhaustion evaporating as you sat up and glanced at the time. 6:32 AM- "And why are you punishing me? I went to sleep an hour ago."

"That's your own damn fault. Now, last chance to sing my praises-"

"I'm going to hang up," You were serious, too, but she cut in.

"I called in a favor." You waited in silence, mind flipping through the possibilities. "Meet me at the address I'm about to send you. It's not a guarantee but I have an old friend and I just…" Her voice went quiet, "If this were me, I know you would try everything you could. So please, accept this."

"Cryptic," You said, biting back a smile.

"So you'll come?"

"Thank you," You took a moment to collect yourself. "I'll meet you there."

The trauma and horrors Claire survived a few years ago truly did mean she had strings to pull, strings she hadn't really told you about.

"What exactly is this?" You asked, waiting with Claire in a much more intimidating waiting area than that of your failed attempt a couple weeks ago.

"Explain more later, she's here," Claire stood with a gracious smile and you followed her lead, schooling your expression of confusion.

The woman shook Claire's hand, talking with her. You let them talk, looking around and studying the space. You had to be scanned in, patted down, and escorted throughout this building to get here. Although you weren't entirely sure where Claire had led you, you trusted her. She may be the only person left that you trusted.

"... And this is her," You turned back to them, the two women regarding you. The woman in glasses, staring at you guardedly, and Claire, flicking her gaze to her than you with a signal. If it wasn't unprofessional, you would've rolled your eyes at her.

"Yes, that's me." You gave a last name, the word unfamiliar on your tongue. You and Claire had spent countless nights constructing and deconstructing plans, identifying what you should and should make known about yourself if you were ever granted the potential access to finding classified information on Carlos. With that being said, let it be known that Oliveira was your last name and you happened to be the sibling of someone you knew was once employed by Umbrella wasn't the right move.

"Ingrid Hunnigan. Follow me." You both moved to follow but she shot a look at your friend, "Sorry, Claire. You'll have to wait."

Claire nodded, "Right," Then she looked at you. She didn't say anything, but you recognized her determination. Knowing what she's done, how she forged this opportunity for you, you wouldn't let her down.

Maybe it was her inability to not exhaust her options of helping, but she was a damn good friend. You would pay her back tenfold someday.

"Here's the space where we mainly work from, though there are offices and rooms at our disposal throughout the floor," You nodded along throughout the tour, thoughts twisting and untangling as you drank everything in. You were focused on being open and leaving an impression, while searching for the angle that would make Hunnigan approve of you. Were you being too quiet, did you look distracted or were your small comments enough? Were you- "Here's where our agents spend their time when they're in office. All but one are currently out in the field…"

You raised your eyebrows, surprised she was giving you what seemed like private information. Just as you turned into a hallway free of others, she spun to face you. You stared right back without a flinch. She was striking, eyes scrutinizing behind those purple glasses.

"Why do you want to work here?" You figured the question was coming, and it didn't sound accusatory. She genuinely sounded curious.

You leaned closer as if sharing a secret. "Are you interrogating me?"

She shook her head once. "No, and you don't have to answer. After all, I'm not the one who decides if you are fit for the team," She blinked at you then continued walking, you rushing to follow behind. Without looking at you she said, "However, you should note hardly anything happens around here without my knowing."

"That a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Depends," She side eyed you.

You nodded once. "Definitely good."

Hunnigan straightened her shoulders. Maybe you didn't have to be cold to everyone, especially if you could befriend someone who 'knows if anything happens'.

When you came upon a closed office door, her hand gently motioned for you to pause. Her voice dropped, "What that also means is I'm aware Miss Redfield personally and privately requested this opportunity for you. Now, the director is a very busy individual. To be able to have this kind of request honored… Both you and Claire must be really special."

"I just happen to have a very good friend."

"Friends only get you so far." She stepped forward and knocked on the door, hearing a confirmation to enter. The words didn't sound like a compliment.

As you stepped forward, you glanced at her and knew there was an opportunity. You could either close her out or maybe, just maybe, open the door slightly. "If I can't honor who've we lost, what we as a whole have lost, then there's no point to the world that's evolving."

You vaguely registered her wide eyes and her humming in thought before you stepped inside the office.

The woman behind the desk raised her gaze to you, leaning back in her chair and clasping her hands atop the desk.

You took a deep breath, Carlos' bright smile trickling to the forefront of your mind.

You mirrored that smile.

Claire had forged the way, it was time to step up.

There was no failing. To fail was to not find answers. To fail here was to fail Carlos. You wouldn't do it, not again.

"All Claire gave me was a name," The woman said as she stood, offering her hand, "She seemed convinced that you would be able to speak for yourself."

This time, the small smile that found your lips was all you.

Chapter 4: what you're looking for (iv)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Elbows on her knees, Claire was in the middle of considering storming the building in search of you before something told her to look to her right. Her mouth moved before she had fully registered his presence. "Leon?"

The man in question was in the middle of listening to the man walking with him and holding out a folder to him. He glanced at Claire, barely pausing, before looking back at her and coming to a stop. "Claire. What are you doing here?"

Claire stepped toward him, smiling and ready to explain before she paused. The man with Leon was shooting her an irritated look and she shot him one right back. Leon noticed, nodding at the man, "You can finish debriefing me in the office. I'll be there shortly."

"But Mr. Kennedy-"

"Everything okay?" He asked Claire, the slightest of frowns tugging at his face as he turned away from the man.

She waved him off, choosing to sit down and buy herself some time. She wasn't sure if telling him about her connection to you was the greatest idea. Leon was definitely the type to pay attention, even more to ask questions. However, it would only be a matter of time before he made note of your connection since you didn't exactly hide your friendship, either. She settled for being broad. "I have a friend who may be joining the F.O.S. I'm waiting for her."

Leon's face betrayed a hint of surprise before it trickled away, gaze going distant and closing itself up. She eyed him, remembering a boyish and hopeful look about him all those years ago. How long ago that truth existed, how distant that was.

He was gone from her now, too. "Hm."

"Going to get back to your debriefing?" Claire said, keeping her voice neutral. Truth be told, it had been a long time since she knew how to talk to him. She knew it wasn't all of his fault, either, and that was tough to swallow. She settled for blissful ignorance. "See you around?"

"Right," He said, focus already diverted as he headed down the hall.

She blinked and realized she was standing, now, watching him walk to the elevators.

Head knocked back into the elevator wall, you forced a deep breath in through your nose, letting your eyes slide closed. There was a steady throbbing at the base of your skull. Squinting, you pulled out your wallet before pausing and resisting flipping it open. If you were asked to join the team, you supposed you would have to keep your photo at home

The ding of the elevator opening had you nearly running into the person waiting on the other side. You grumbled out a sorry at the same time they did, head bowed as you resisted the urge to send them a nasty look. Who the hell waits smack dab in the middle of the exit?

"Hey," A voice loudly hissed, and you looked up to see Claire waiting for you, eyes eager. She met you halfway, grabbing onto your arm and muttering, "How did it go? What do you think? Did they like you?"

"Slow down." You sighed, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know-" She paused, eyes shooting to the right. You followed her gaze only to see the doors of the elevator close. She shook her head.

"You good?"

"Yeah just… brings back a lot of memories."

"What, this place?"

"The people here," She mumbled, "Come on, I'm starving. You can tell me all about it over breakfast."

One, two, three, four, five.

Five weeks had passed, and you were convinced you would not be joining the F.O.S team. You settled for going back to the drawing board. Claire was more than eager, even more so than before, and you suspected it was because she must've blamed herself for Chris' meddling.

This stung. Not because you believed you were some hotshot who believed they could easily be hired onto a highly qualified team, but because all of your hard work was starting to feel like it would amount to nothing. Ever since that day talking to the director, you started wondering… what if you didn't find answers to Carlos' disappearance? What if you weren't good enough?

"Hey. Your phone's ringing." You looked up from your coffee and saw that the stranger seated at the table beside yours was pointing at your phone poking from your pocket. You shot him a smile of thanks before pulling it out, not recognizing the number. Typically, you wouldn't answer. Your heart jumped, however, and you accepted the call.

They asked if it was you.

You confirmed.

"This is Ingrid Hunnigan."

You had just arrived outside Claire's house that evening when a call came in from her.

"Hey-"

"We are still celebrating, but not tonight. Chris decided on an impromptu visit."

You stared at her complex. "All I need to know. Well… see you soon then."

Claire was due to travel for work for a couple weeks come tomorrow, and you were starting with the F.O.S on Monday. You weren't sure when you would see her again.

"Hey, don't go writing sonnets now. It's a little too late for us to leave each other in the dust. Keep me updated when you can, okay?"

"You too."

"Alright, see you later."

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a rockstar." You wanted to tell her how much it meant to you that she was in your corner, that when you lost Carlos, you didn't know how to make it to the next minute let alone tomorrow. All this time, she was the person to hold your hand, then drag you forward, until you were ready to stand back up on your own. She was family.

It was quiet for a couple beats. You were starting to regret it before her voice dripped into your ear: "Are you my groupie?"

You deadpanned, "I'm hanging up."

"No, wait, I'd like to dedicate this song to my number one fan-"

Flipping your phone closed, you shook your head and turned away with a smile. The smile disappeared instantly at the sight of Chris Redfield leaning up against his car, watching you.

You started walking past, full intentions of ignoring him, before he said, "It wasn't personal, you know."

You stopped walking, sifting through every insult that sprung to mind before you calmed down and said, "Meddling with my life is pretty damn personal. Don't start acting like we're friends because of it."

"I won't. But you're important to Claire. Which means I'm not letting you go out and get yourself involved in something that you're not qualified to handle or protect yourself from."

You turned to face him, eyes narrowing. He knew something.

"What-"

"Have a good night. I would offer you a ride but it's only a matter of time before you tell me to fuck off." He walked past you and headed toward the front door and you watched him go.

Only your second conversation with him and he was already acting like he knew you.

Notes:

Having a little too much fun writing Chris haha

-august

Chapter 5: none of us are saints (v)

Notes:

if you saw i posted this prematurely and then deleted it, apologies. it wasn't ready! i actually wanted to post this earlier today but i was catching up with a friend. let me know what you think!

-august

Chapter Text

Establish yourself, identify your advantages, and uncover something, anything, about Carlos.

You told yourself this all weekend in preparation for your first day. You dreamt of Carlos, then had nightmares you didn't remember that kept you up until early morning. You continued telling yourself this as you got ready that morning, as you studied yourself in the mirror.

On the way to work.

When you messaged Claire back.

When you stepped into the elevator.

Passed security. Passed more security. Used another elevator.

You said it as you met all of your new team. As Hunnigan started your training. As she explained how we partnered with the D.S.O and other branches of the government quite often, so often that there were designated offices for the agents here.

You soaked everything and nothing in, received information overload about your role and responsibilities, about the computer system and your access. There was so much, you started wondering if you knew anything aside from Hunnigan's name.

"Hey," You blinked, noticing Hunnigan was staring at you. "It's a lot, I know. But you'll get used to it."

"Yeah… Yes. I will." You would, because you had to. There was no other option.

"I'm going to give you a few minutes to get settled in here at your desk, look over what we've talked about. I have a few things I need to do."

You simply nodded, sitting at your chair and taking it all in. Even your desk was tucked into the corner of the room, back facing the rest of the room. It was if you were just dropped in, like you didn't belong. You shoved those thoughts away, refusing to let self doubt poison you before you even began. It was a lot, yes. It would only get worse. But you were capable.

Dumbass, You could hear his voice, You always had a knack for getting in over your head.

A commotion of voices grabbed your attention and you glanced back. Once you saw it unfamiliar faces hanging around the desks, you faced back forward, figuring you shouldn't be zoning out your first day in. You straightened up and turned to your computer.

Voices were coming at him from every angle, and it was one reason that Hunnigan was his favorite from F.O.S. He always knew that she would never be among those who vied for his attention, whether it was work related or something else.

He was half listening to the guy asking him questions about his most recent mission.

Leon had noticed someone.

He had never seen her here before.

"Hey," Leon leaned his hands on Hunnigan's desk, stifling a smile at her disgusted look as he nodded at the corner, "Who's that?"

"A new member of our team," Hunnigan said, typing away at her computer. "Have you reviewed the-"

"Yes. 54 pages of redundancy and driving the point home. The F.O.S should really consider the idea of expanding a team and dividing up the responsibilities. Since, you know, you're always uh," He looked around, " Carrying everything on your back. You had time to type up a 54 page report after all."

Hunnigan rolled her eyes, not ceasing her typing. "Leon, we could have fifty team members and it still wouldn't be enough to deal with your recklessness."

"You know just what to say to butter me up, sweetheart."

Her lip curled. "Leon-"

"Yes and Probably not," Leon held his hands up in surrender, eyes flicking back to the woman in the corner. She hadn't turned around, so he couldn't see her face. She was vaguely familiar, though.

"What was I going to say?" In his peripheral vision he saw Hunnigan was finally glaring at him.

"Can I leave you to work, and will I ever stop being this handsome?"

"You're-"

"Insufferable." She tapped her fingers on her desk, signaling his fun was already far past her capacity. He nodded at the woman again. "Efficient already?"

Hunnigan followed his gaze. She nodded. "Dedicated. It's been a long time since…" Her words tapered off, losing herself to thought. "Well, I guess we'll see."

He was still looking at her when she glanced back in their direction, and he looked away, wanting to close his eyes at his obvious behavior. Hell, he didn't want to scare her off on her first day. He wasn't watching, he was just… curious. Curious about the newcomer, aware it wasn't easy to just join the F.O.S. Leon wondered about the woman who had Hunnigan thoughtful. From that one glance, he also knew you as the woman who was Claire's friend. Satisfaction at figuring it out slowly trickled away as his own responsibilities started creeping back in.

"Review the case again, Leon."

"I will."

"I mean it."

"When do I not-"

"All the time." He blinked and she crossed her arms. "Seems you're just as predictable."

"Ha ha." He pushed off, mind already steadily speeding up. If an artist were to peek into his mind, they would simply draw a cacophony of jam-packed freeways tangled together. A collection of passing by road lines. Leon welcomed it, because the alternative was to get lost in the blur.

So he fell back in, just like he always did.

A comfort.

Really.

You were finished long after the sun had gone down. Body heavy, bones aching, you stepped outside the building and breathed in the outside air. The back of your head was hurting from a headache you hadn't been able to shake. Your attention found the figure up ahead. You watched as he reached a familiar car, unlocking it and getting inside.

Earlier, when you had spotted him talking to Hunnigan, you had thought maybe his familiarity was a stretch. Just as he moved to sit inside his car, though, he glanced in your general direction. His hair was that dirty blonde, and he was wearing that dark brown leather jacket from that night.

He was the stranger who gave you his umbrella, alright.

From the carefully composed expression on his face, you knew he recognized you too.

Chapter 6: i still got love for you (vi)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Three weeks. Three weeks here and you hadn't even had a moment to think about how to look into Carlos. You were absolutely swamped with your responsibilities and tasks, and they were already prepping you to partner with field agents.

The time it usually took for you to fall asleep was replaced with an exhaustion that would knock you out the second your head touched your pillow. You hadn't even been able to talk with Claire, though she was just as busy as you.

One Friday, Hunnigan popped by your desk as she typically did.

"Hey," You turned your head toward her without looking away from your screen, typing away at the screen. When she didn't continue, you finished up your task and looked up at her. "A few of us are grabbing drinks after work. You're welcome to join."

Your eyebrows raised. "Huh."

"What?" Hunnigan already sounded offended and you hid a laugh behind clearing your throat.

In the last couple of weeks, you had fallen into a comfortable balance with Hunnigan. She resembled that of what you would consider a friend. At least, your definition of one in the past couple of years. You kept your private lives, well, private, yet you maintained a comfortable banter. It mostly consisted of her sly comments about troublemakers on the job. The most entertaining was her nearly pulling her hair out whenever she paired with a well-known reckless agent that no one wanted. You had volunteered, but Hunnigan didn't think you were ready for him. She had said, "I'd say you work with Leon before him. Even Leon isn't as bad."

"Well, what was that 'huh'?"

You shook your head, "I just didn't see you as the type to socialize with the team outside the office."

"I usually don't, but…" She glanced back, "When Leon comes, he buys most of our rounds. Not that we mooch off of him, but he's terrible at bets. Even something as simple as rock, paper, scissors, he always loses."

You breathed out from your nose in amusement, considering. Then you realized that drinks meant everyone would be gone.

"I would, but I think I'm going to just finish up here and head on home."

Hunnigan blinked.

"What?"

"Huh."

You leaned back. "Very funny. Now what was that 'huh'?"

"Nothing, it's just nice." When you waited, she squared her shoulders, already turning away. "Nice that there's someone else who takes this just as seriously. I don't feel as… Well, as alone around here."

Her words stunned you.

In the time that you had known her, she took the job very seriously and always took on more than everyone else, but you figured it was just the kind of person she was. Maybe she felt like everyone else gave her no other choice.

"I'm glad," You settled on.

She nodded, then heard someone calling her name. "You have a good weekend, then."

"You too."

"Everyone ready?" You heard a voice you had grown quite familiar with and you glanced over your shoulder. Leon had appeared silently, just like he always did. Usually he wasn't in the office, but when he was it was hard not to notice him.

Getting acclimated to the office meant intel that may seem surface level now but could potentially be of use later. The number one subject, it seemed, was Leon S. Kennedy.

The day you found out he and Claire happened to know each other, happened to survive Raccoon City together, you had sent an outraged and disbelieving text to her. Her nonchalant response had been, How many Leon Kennedys do you think exist?

Your petty response had been, The Kennedy family is famous as fuck, but I'm wasn't out here thinking you survived with someone from a Presidential family.

Though the more time goes on, hearing of the missions Leon takes on and succeeds, his status wasn't that far fetched.

He was something of a legend, a hero, and a celebrity around here. People loved him, singing his praises and if there were hints of jealousy from some, a follow up comment was always made that shed him in a golden light. The women in the office- most of them, apart from Hunnigan- secretly called him Adonis.

Sure, you could believe it. With those striking blue eyes, his charming smiles and friendliness, on top of his extreme talents, it would be more odd if he wasn't adored.

Despite all that, the image seared into you was the Leon who wordlessly gave you his umbrella, his dark hair soaked. That effortless and instinctual kindness. How his hair wasn't the strongest shade in his eyes, no. It was something more haunted.

"Not joining us?"

You slightly flinched as you prepared yourself for his proximity. It was disarming, admittedly, to be thinking of someone when they happen to creep up on you. "Not tonight, unfortunately."

You glanced up and froze, not realizing just how close he was. He was leaning on the closest wall of your cubicle style desk, hair hanging down in his face as he peered at your computer near your left shoulder. Your hands twitched atop your keyboard as the faint scent of his cologne washed over you.

When he glanced down at you, you turned back to the computer and continued working.

"Seems important."

"It is."

You realized this was the first time he was talking to you. You had been nearby when he talked to Hunnigan or other team members. This was the first time he had addressed you, and you, him. It was oddly comfortable, albeit general.

"Think you'll be long?"

You stopped working, gaze trailing up to him. You slowly asked, "Why?"

His lips parted as his head moved back, straightening out. Because you were sitting down, he towered over you and you had to strain your neck to maintain eye contact. Then, he smiled, "If it's not too long, we'll be at the Blue Ace. The bar down the street. You can join us. First three rounds are on me."

"First three?"

"Something I like to do for the team. You know," He shrugged, "They've saved my ass more than once."

It was your turn for your lips to part, recalling how Hunnigan believed Leon just had terrible luck at betting games. You were seemingly frozen at the realization, but you made nothing of it as your focus returned to work. "Nice of you. If it's not too late, I'll join you." You had no intention of joining them.

Someone called out a question to Leon and he knocked his knuckles on the wall of the cubicle. "I'll let you get back to it, rockstar."

The nickname jostled you, watching him walk away.

For a couple minutes you were stuck. You knew he was friendly, everyone said it. You had witnessed it all the time. You just hadn't prepared for it to be with you.

You had just started up work again when you saw a shadow, a flash of movement and your eyes widened as a hand reached around you and set down a can. You looked up but Leon was already walking away, talking to a guy from your team.

Your eyes went to the unopened energy drink and you picked it up. When you looked back over your shoulder, he was already gone.

Staring at the can, you held it in your hands for longer than necessary. Did you look tired? Had he sensed it would be a long night? What possessed Leon to be so kind after all the shit he's been through?

Setting it down, you waited fifteen minutes. Then fifteen more. You waited until the lights auto-turned off in the room. Then you began.

You started off with general searches.

Raccoon City.

Endless results appeared in the database. You clicked the first, skimmed, then the second. On the third, you paused. You had come across Claire's file.

Your computer mouse hovered over the words as you looked off to the side. Her prolonged silences, the past that seized her even mid-laugh. You weighed the opportunity to learn more closely about what happened to her that night.

You clicked out of it. There was a reason she wanted to keep some of the details vague. When you came across Leon's file, you did the same, feeling wrong about peeking in on one of the most horrific nights of their lives.

In your search, there were countless files connected to Leon, most hyper-linked to other cases in the system. The scope of his influence was a lot more sharp when it was laid out in front of was an asset not only to this team and to his own employer, but to the government. Arguably, to the world.

You realized if you wanted to learn as much as you could about Carlos, you may have to dive in and fully learn everything about that night anyways.

In the past five years, the only reliable piece of information that you had uncovered about your brother was his previous occupation and that he was present before the fall of Raccoon City. You also knew he had survived, but after that is when he disappeared. Whether it was his own accord or something else, was what you hadn't uncovered all this time.

Pursing your lips, you wondered if it was voluntary… Why did he leave you behind?

You didn't realize how much time had passed until your eyes started getting heavy and you checked the time. Your eyes widened as you saw it was 2:46 AM. Rubbing at the drowsiness, you told yourself five more minutes and you would call it a night.

Scrolling through, you were mostly focused on fighting off sleep. You clicked randomly on a closed case file, skimming the contents and coming across another well-known name- Valentine. It detailed her involvement with that night in Raccoon City, and you were sleepily trailing your eyes over it before you froze. Cold washed over you, like ice in the early morning. Your tiredness shattered upon seeing a timestamp and a name.

AROUND 2100, VALENTINE-

Your eyes flew through the page, seeing most of it was blacked out. Why was most of it redacted? But her name wasn't what had gripped you. In that same sentence, at the very end:

MET OLIVEIRA, see U.B.C.S*

Your heart plummeted, then rose.

His name, unlike all of the others including Claire's, wasn't hyper-linked. The rest of the page was blacked out up until the end, detailing Jill's escape from the city.

You clicked out, clicking on the search engine and typing out his name. Just as you clicked enter, a flashlight lit up your desk and the wall behind it, and you spun around.

"Miss, what are you doing in the dark? Have you seen what time it is?"

The security guard was older, and when he saw your wince and covering your face from the light, he lowered his hand.

"I-" You glanced at your computer screen and tried as subtly as possible to block him from seeing, "Just got a little swamped with work at the end here."

"You should head on home, miss."

You nodded, offering him a sleepy smile and watching him go, keys jingling the whole way.

When you turned back to the computer screen, your smile dissipated. His name only appears in the file you had just looked at, his involvement and his existence all behind a singular and redacted file.

Notes:

A little more on Carlos! Choosing him as the big brother was so natural, he just gives off that energy.

Starting tomorrow, I'll be posting a chapter a day, at least for this week because it'll be a busier one. If I'm able to write more and get even more ahead than I am, I may post more than one!

Please let me know what you think! I know it's still the beginning, but I'm curious what you think of the characters or anything like that. Excited for where this is heading (:

-august

Chapter 7: i see you, you see me (vii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There was a comforting bliss washing over you.

Someone was faintly calling your name.

If you listened closely, you thought you could hear someone's alarm clock going off in the other room. You were going to kill him-

"LUNA!"

You shot up, blinking away your drowsiness as the sounds of typing and chatter flowed into your ears. You glanced up at Hunnigan as you scooted closer to your desk. "Sorry."

It took everything in you to ignore the look on her face, because if you didn't, you gave her room to ask, to get closer. She settled on, "Your first mission today. How are you feeling?"

You wished you could care less- or not at all- but you hadn't been able to sleep all weekend. Because of the dead end on Friday night, and the weight on your shoulders for your first partnership with a field agent today, you hadn't been able to catch up on any sleep.

You cared more than you would like.

This job… it was just supposed to be a means to find your brother.

"I'm…" You shot her a side glance, "I need coffee."

Hunnigan smiled. "A fresh pot was just made. I'd hurry before these other vultures take it all."

In the next moment, you were in the break room, holding Hunnigan's panda coffee mug. She wasn't wrong; there was only half a cup left.

As you poured it, you thought about that redacted file. Tried to envision what laid behind it, what Carlos had been through. He, like Claire, had faced the horrors of what the city had been reduced to. He had made it out before the government sent the missile. If he had chosen to disappear… Could you blame him?

A mumble from off to the side caught your attention.

Over the rim of the mug, you watched Leon holding the empty pot, frowning down at it before he placed it back.

"Sorry," You uttered, and he looked at you. You held up your mug. Though you couldn't read him, the slightest shift of his shoulders made you guess he hadn't noticed you until you spoke. You both, it seemed, sought refuge in your own minds.

You shook that thought off. You were projecting.

"Don't be. Three should be good."

"You've already had three cups?"

Leon looked over at you beneath the shade of his hair. For a moment, it was like that first time in the rain- then his eyes flashed mischievously. "All nighters aren't for the faint of heart." He turned back to the pot. "Though, I could always make more…"

"No energy drinks lying around?" You asked, not looking up when he glanced over. You're not entirely sure why you mentioned it. Mentioned the kindness he had shown.

"Not a big fan. Those are reserved for when I stay up for more than two days."

You looked at him with wide eyes.

"Kidding." You just stared some more, "Well, not really. But I'm tougher than I look," He winked. You just nodded, mind already trailing back to Carlos.

Downing the rest of the coffee, you made your way to the sink and noted Leon was still there, though this time he was facing toward you. Decked out in all black, you would've paused at his appearance if he weren't casually tossing a large knife up in the air over and over, catching the handle every time.

You side-eyed him, the holsters at his waist, the shoulder holsters he wore. As if he sensed you secretly studying him- not a far fetched idea for someone of his awareness- his eyes connected with yours just as you turned your attention back to washing out the mug. He continued watching you and your nerves steadily grew. This guy really had a staring problem. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more you should probably avoid getting his attention. He was one of the government's most prized weapons. This thing with Carlos? It didn't exactly scream patriotic.

You should ignore him. Before you could ask what his problem was, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

The napkins were behind where he was leaning up against the counter. He wasn't looking at you anymore, instead inspecting his knife with zero interest in his face.

"Excuse me," You said, though you wanted to say, Do you mind?

He merely glanced your way as he pushed off from the counter, and you opted to ignore him as you hastily wiped off your hands. The buzzing wasn't even a phone call, it was just a series of texts from Claire.

I'm picking you up after work.

You were typing out a rejection but she beat you to the punch.

And don't pull any shit with me. I got back yesterday. We should talk.

When do you get off?

Your head knocked back as you heaved a sigh. You started typing out a response as you headed for the door, figuring you were away from your desk long enough. Try as she might, she didn't have any control over how long this mission would be with the field agent. You were on call, and it could be hours, it could be days.

You glanced back, and saw Leon's head finally turn away as he stepped up to the coffee pot.

When you settled into your desk, your usual pressure was replaced with something heavy, gripping, settling into your bones as you prepared for the mission. Hunnigan was hovering, asking you questions until you shot her an exasperated look.

Her chatter cut off, and if your mind wasn't racing, you would've felt bad. Instead, she lowered her head and quietly uttered, "You're ready."

You didn't feel it. You had been extensively trained and prepared for this, sure. It was a massive part of your role, but were you really qualified? You were providing support and resources to a field agent out there risking their lives. If something happened, if you fucked up- their lives were in your hands. Were you really being trusted with this?

In over your head, kid.

You pushed out Carlos' soft voice with words like venom to match. You had to push it down, you had to- so you focused.

Agent Archer. You had met him briefly, a reserved guy who kept to himself. He was polite, didn't say a word unless spoken to in debriefings. He was who you were assigned to, and his fate was directly tied to your ability to think fast and to connect him with whatever he needed.

You've gotta realize by now.

What, Carlos?

Sometimes we're just not cut out for what we want-

Fuck. You.

You closed your eyes, drawing in sharp breaths.

"Condor Two to Hawk. Do you copy?"

Carlos' nod, hurt yet always understanding. Even when you told him such awful shit.

"I copy, this is Hawk. What's your 20?"

So it began.

The past trickled away, the tightening in your throat and chest faded. You worked endlessly at the computer, checking in with Archer and providing information, resources, and intel. He kept you in the loop, updating regularly. His voice was soothing, collected.

When you slipped up and apologized for how you were frantically looking for a contact, he even said, "Have some faith in me, Hawk. You're doing fine."

Were you?

By some twist of luck, the extra seconds you took didn't harm him. In fact, he was steady the entire way. The mission was a shorter one, wrapping up in a total of seven hours. You ate at your desk, didn't acknowledge the people around you or the sensation of people hovering nearby. You focused entirely on Agent Archer.

When it was done, you sat staring at your screen.

He was okay. Agent Archer was okay. He made it out with no injuries, succeeding in his mission and you were able to lead him to a safe extraction point.

You didn't fuck it up.

A hand came down on your shoulder and you tensed.

"You did good, Agent." Your shoulders relaxed at Hunnigan's praise. In the time you had known her, you also knew she didn't lie. Even though you doubted it was work you could be proud of, you found comfort in her words. "I wanted to let you know Miss Redfield is waiting for you."

You stretched your arms, rubbing at your neck. "Claire's here? How long?"

"Not sure. Leon's talking to her."

You blinked, attention officially piqued. Except, you were beyond drained and your bed was calling your name.

"Thanks, Hunnigan."

"Enough. Call me Ingrid."

"Alright."

The two of you walked out together, Ingrid talking generally about preparations for Leon's next field mission, how she was already feeling the increased stress. You were mostly listening, up until you stepped out of the building and spotted what looked to be a tense conversation between Claire and Leon.

Both you and Ingrid came to a stop, observing silently for a few beats before she said, "Good luck with that."

You shared a quick glance with her before you approached them.

"... and let me tell you, it's not a good look for you," Claire's face was red, signaling her intense frustration with her hands on her hips.

Leon shook his head, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he sighed, "You know it's not like that."

"Then what is it like? You know what? I don't give a damn, just-" She cut off when she noticed you, taking a deep breath before she feigned a smile, "LUNA. I was waiting for you."

"I told you not to."

Claire's eyes flashed, letting you know all you needed to- you weren't getting out of this. "Nonsense. Here," She thrusted out her extra helmet. You grabbed it, noting the last time you had seen it you had nearly tossed it at Chris' head.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long at all," She grinned.

"Long enough for security to ask me why she was creeping around," Leon corrected. Your eyebrows shot up while hers narrowed.

"Do you mind? We have plans." Claire motioned for him to move from blocking her bike from you. They both eyed each other, him slightly tilting his head. You wouldn't have guessed he was frustrated if it weren't for that tilt.

He withdrew, moving to the left and stepping back from the two of you.

Looking between the two of them , you asked, "Okay, are you two going to enter the ring or are we getting out of here?" They both broke their stare down to regard you. "What? I'm tired and hungry."

"Your mission," Claire breathed, shaking her head at the reminder. "How was it?"

"Fine. Exhausting."

As you climbed behind her, Leon continued standing there. You thought of the break room, how he had watched you. Then you thought of him in the rain, handing you the umbrella. As you pulled on the helmet, you paused and met his gaze. "Have a nice night, Leon."

He opened his mouth, closed it. Nodded. Then, "You did well."

You raised your eyebrows in question. "And how would you know that?"

He raised a hand in farewell before he walked away.

You watched his back as Claire scoffed.

You asked her, despite your warnings to yourself, "What was that about?"

Just before the bike rumbled to life her head turned. You couldn't see her face, but you knew that agitation well. "Just another nose poking where it doesn't belong."

Leon stepped into the cool darkness of his apartment.

The sounds of the keys hitting the table near the door, the scuffing of his boots, the rustling of his jacket.

Well-versed in its shapes and silences, he welcomed it, and he didn't remember a time when he resented it. If he ever did think of his starry-eyed, happy-go-lucky younger self, he fought the urge to laugh.

How stupid he once was.

Even after, even when he was already familiarizing himself with his broken soul, he had tried. He thought of his old apartment, of the photos, of his dog, Murphy. Of filling the space with failed recipes and a defective radio that made his CDs sound raspy.

When he clicked on his bedroom light, he was alone. The remnants of that old home the stock photo in comparison to this shell of a place.

Shower. Silence. Eat. Silence. Dishes. Silence.

He paused in the living room, debated turning on the television.

His feet carried him back to the shell.

Lying in the dark, he thought of earlier today, when he had talked to Claire.

He never had a knack for subtlety. Today was one example of many.

I would ask you what you're doing here, but the real question's what is LUNA doing.

Leon had meant for it to sound joking, but even though his tone had been light, Claire had tensed up like a cornered lion.

What is that supposed to mean?

You've never been fond of my line of work. Suddenly, you're passionate about helping your friend land a position.

Claire was never stupid, and was quite good at thinking quickly. He had known her a long time, however, and the longer he knew someone, the easier it was for him to understand them. So he knew the bite of her tone was to disguise her nerves. His hunch had been right, LUNA wasn't here for some obvious reason.

You've spent way too much time getting betrayed and looking over your shoulder. LUNA's here because-

Because she wants to make a difference. To be a part of justice. To make sure global disasters are prevented. To help people. Or-

Claire had looked away, shaking her head. Buying herself time. He latched onto it before she could continue.

I'm sure some of that is true. Tell me, then, if that were truly the case, why didn't you come to me as a referral?

She didn't say anything.

Or your brother? Why didn't you go to him?

What is your problem? Why are you trying to force yourself into something that's not there? Look, if you're lonely, just say it-

Don't deflect, Claire.

Don't patronize, Leon.

He winced, aware he hadn't taken a gentle or understanding route that may have been more fitting for his friend. It wasn't his forte, though, not anymore. All he knew was firmness.

Tell me what's going on. I can help.

Just like he knew her, she knew him. There was no point in playing ignorant with him anymore. I think someone of your… status… would make it worse.

What-

Look. It's not personal. It's just not my place. LUNA is here for the same reasons Ingrid is, for all of F.O.S. She's qualified and capable, and that's all you need to know. Why do you care so much?

Even in the darkness of his room, he had to shield his face with his arms as he thought of how she had stumped him with that.

He had ignored her question. Nothing about what we do is secure. If I can make it better, I will. You just need to confide in me.

Like I said. It's not my place. This, She had motioned to him broadly and he had resisted feeling a little offended, Whatever this is, is too much, even for you. More and more everyday, you're turning into one of them and let me tell you, it's not a good look.

What had she meant? Like who? Who are they? Did she seriously mean the fucking assholes who had forced him into this 'career', who had completely rewritten his future, rewritten him, hell, even rewritten the way he breathed? Did she think he enjoyed being this, whatever 'this' was? He realized he had miscalculated. Too much time, too much distance had grown between him and Claire. An ache stirred in him. She had looked at him like he was a stranger.

He could only manage to tell her, You know it's not like that.

Then what is it like? You know what? I don't give a damn, just- LUNA. I was waiting for you.

Then he turned and there was you.

Tired eyes, aware of him but hardly regarding him. Whenever Leon was curious, he had always trusted that feeling. He had wondered if it was Claire's doing, his curiosity brewing, but with a couple interactions, it was clear it was you.

You were qualified, yes. You were resilient, and from Hunnigan, it sounded like you were fit for the job. He just wasn't entirely sure how you fit into all this.

To him, you didn't.

So he withdrew.

For the moment, he backed off. Claire was fully capable of taking care of herself, and had always chased after the right lead, the right side, the true story.

But he didn't know you.

If there was one takeaway from all his years as an agent, it was to not trust convenience, the easy answer, or the brain trying to write things off.

You were someone he didn't know, someone who from one day to the next, had forced your way in.

He didn't trust you.

His instincts told him you weren't a threat, and he believed that. They had gotten him this far, after all. What he didn't trust was how you fit.

That was enough for him to look a little closer.

As he dozed off, he withdrew.

For now, he had other things to ruin his rest.

Notes:

Hopefully the wait wasn't too long! Ahhh, I've been thinking about getting this out all day! Let me know what you think! I'm so nervous and excited that you're finally getting a peek into Leon. Leon and Claire's broken friendship (,: his wariness of the reader. So much unraveling...

-august

Chapter 8: shadows in my room (viii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

You were dozing off when Claire finally appeared with takeout from the nearby diner.

"Geez, you look haggard," Claire said as she folded her legs beneath her on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Thanks," Your voice was dry as you slid to the floor with a groan. "This really couldn't wait?"

"Yeah, because the two of us just have such open schedules," Claire paused in taking the food out, "I've got a lot going on for work and I'm suspecting I'll be away a lot in the coming months. I even… I have to leave again tomorrow."

You didn't feel so tired anymore, ignoring the disappointment at her words. Truthfully, with the disappearance of Carlos, a part of you had disappeared along with him. Claire was the only friend you had managed to make and keep in the time it took for all of your other relationships to crumple.

Whenever work took her away, you were alone.

Feeling pathetic, you shook your head of your self pity as you opened your box of food.

As you made minimal effort to cut into your pancakes with a plastic fork, Claire drowned hers in syrup. She sighed in delight when she chewed through her first bite. Claire pointed her fork at you. "You haven't been very good at staying inconspicuous at your job, have you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Leon is what I mean. Something's got him wondering what we're up to."

You shrugged your shoulders. "He's a special agent. He's probably suspicious of everything."

"No," Her eyes glazed over, "No, he's not. Which means you've tipped him off somehow."

It may have been your exhaustion, but you didn't appreciate the accusation. "I barely even talk to the guy. I do my job and keep my head down. I even reject all of Ingrid's invitations to lunch and drinks." Claire glanced up at you. You couldn't hide the bite in your tone. "What?"

"First name basis, huh?"

"Did you hear anything I just said? I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking. Actually," You put your fork down, "If anything, you're the one who failed to mention Leon and your connection there."

"He's one of the most renowned special agents! I didn't think I had to."

"Really." Your voice was monotone. "His F.O.S agent is Ingrid Hunnigan and you didn't think that we would cross paths? You didn't even give me a heads up."

"I really didn't think…" Her eyes slid closed and the anger that had built suddenly washed away. Why were you getting so upset with her? Why was she so on edge, anyways? Before you could apologize, she continued, "I knew it was highly likely. But over the years, he's just been… he's different now. He isn't who I used to know, and frankly, I didn't really think he would bother. Beneath all of that? It's not the same anymore. I don't really blame him either."

You picked up your fork again. "So what's the problem?"

"What?" She was still distracted, thinking of a past and horrors you would never understand.

"If he's someone who hardly bothers, then we'll be fine."

"I was wrong," She raised her eyes to you. "I thought that's what he became. Today, though, proved I was wrong. Different, yes. But he's still the man who fights hard. Him and that damn moral code."

"So… what? You're saying we should trust him?"

"I'm saying he's noticed you. Maybe you think you've done a good job at being a chameleon," She read your face, "Well, I'm confident you've done a good job. But Leon's a wolf. Just like my fucking brother."

"Enough with the warnings. What's he going to do, report me?"

"No, but it's not that much better. He's going to want to get involved. If he finds out anything about what we're doing, he'll dive in with us."

You gripped your fork. "He can't."

"Agreed."

"He's the government's favorite weapon. The President would dedicate a holiday to him, for crying out loud. He'll draw attention and-"

"And it may cost us."

"What do I do?" You rubbed at your eyes, mind heavy with the weight of work, Carlos, and now this.

Claire's fingers were tapping on the table. "We can do a couple things here. Like I said, he's a wolf. His senses are something else. It's how he's picked up on you in the first place. I didn't make it better, if I'm being honest. Pulling away from the team, avoiding him, it'll arouse more suspicion in him. We've got to tamper it all out."

"How?" Except you already knew.

Claire looked at you. "You need to become friends with him. You need to let him in a little. The same for the team. Our first plan isn't going to work anymore, keeping everyone at arm's length. Go out to drink with the team. Chat with Leon whenever he's in. Give him a little something, something to ease whatever questions he has about you."

"I'm supposed to get a special agent off my back? Leon, with the heightened senses and intuition to match. You keep calling him a wolf! This isn't going to work."

"We don't have a choice. I've managed to hold Chris back from getting involved, now you need to keep Leon from it."

Suddenly, the tiredness in your bones doubled. She was right, you didn't have a choice. You would have to do even better at acclimating. What you were doing wasn't cutting it. But… if you had already triggered whatever superhuman instincts Leon had in him just from your minimal contact, did this mean you were already screwed?

"Hey," Claire reached over and grasped your clenched fist, "It's going to be okay. With the two of us, he really doesn't stand a chance."

You appreciated her poor attempt at lightening the mood, picking at the rest of your food. "And if this doesn't work? If I don't manage to get him to stop looking at me?"

Claire continued eating. "There's only so much he can do, really. Not without endangering us and his own position. Despite that moral code, he won't go too far. I've seen it," She went quiet for a bit and then muttered, "He's always been a puzzle."

Great.

A puzzle, a problem.

You ignored that feeling that you were already fucked and decided, quite tiredly, that you didn't care. Whatever it takes.

After all, the moment you received any substantial lead, you would be out of there.

It was after Claire left and you were already dozing off in bed that you realized you hadn't told her what you found out about Carlos.

Like a punch that winded you, your exhaustion was replaced with something ugly clawing at you. You fumbled in the dark for your phone. Texting her. When can I see you again? I have something else I need to talk to you about.

I'll be back next month. Why?

Your stomach dropped. You had been so preoccupied with your "work", your job, that you hadn't even thought to tell her about Carlos?

You swallowed it all down. Every single guilty claw.

All this meant was that you would need to uncover more on your own.

You could do that.

Something told you that you had already taken a step down the right path.

Determination wasn't compatible with rest. You laid there in the dark, keeping your eyes closed and willing yourself to sleep. After that didn't work, you let your eyes open. You stared up into the dark.

It was so quiet. Usually you could hear your upstairs neighbors' footsteps, or your next door neighbor on the right watching a reality tv show on high volume. Tonight, you could only hear the blood flowing in your ears.

On nights like this, when your mind filled in the shadows of the room and when your ears perked, wondering if you were imagining sounds, you wondered just how it was possible so much time had passed. How you vividly remembered late nights as a kid, the shadows and sounds making you cry out Carlos' name in fear.

He would act out fighting off the shadows, getting you to laugh.

Wasn't it yesterday you were celebrating your birthday with Carlos in your dorm five years ago, when you were turning twenty?

Before that, weren't the two of you staying up late on the couch watching television, making nasty snack concoctions when groceries were running low? Wasn't he consoling you over little, ridiculous things you couldn't even remember? How about summers spent swimming? Carlos learning how to do hairstyles for you when you were young even though he was young himself? Letting you drag him everywhere from the movies to the store to the park? Arguing almost every single day.

He was the best, and he was the worst.

You frowned, feeling how your pillow had gotten damp. You sat up in the dark and didn't turn on your lamp.

Carlos had left you, voluntarily or not.

Five long years, but what if you never found him?

What would you do if you never did?

Your room felt like your childhood bedroom, then.

The shadows looming. The sounds creaking in your ears.

And no brother to chase them away.

Notes:

i'm debating posting one more chapter tonight. it's a very special day, a good friend of mine's birthday, so i'm feeling nice. i'm not sure yet though, because i love the ending of this chapter so we'll see. big bro carlos (,:

thanks to two special comments who called him big bro carlos, i'm now referring to him as that from here on out.

also reader definitely has some (justified) preconceived notions about leon. the two of them are side-eyeing each other hard lol.

-august

Chapter 9: so many signs (ix)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Your confidence was all but gone three weeks later.

Since that night with Claire, you hadn't had any time to do more research. When you had the minimal free time, you tried waiting out other coworkers who stayed after hours. Unfortunately, you weren't the only workaholic around here.

At this rate, maybe you wouldn't even have to do it alone, since Claire was nearly back from her work trip.

With each day, the tension in you grew into a ravenous monster. You barely slept, and when you weren't providing support for field missions, you were thinking about that damn document.

At your access level, you could kiss any delusions about getting your hands on the original goodbye, but you would work with what crumbs they had given you.

The biggest and glaring crumb being Jill Valentine.

"Don't you love Fridays?" Ingrid's voice carried over to you, and you realized she was still at her desk typing away.

You called back to her, "I thought you hated them."

You felt her look of condescension on the back of your head. "That's because I work on Saturdays."

"Doesn't stop you from going out with everyone."

"Hey, I blame the Blue Ace. They must've hired a new bartender. Their drinks have been immaculate."

Truthfully, it was easier than you expected to mold yourself into the team. It had taken a couple of outings, sure, but the others accepted you with no trouble. They were nice, but sometimes boring. With a little effort, they saw you as one of them. It was Ingrid that you had really warmed up to, and it wasn't even an attempt to camouflage yourself. She was, undoubtedly, someone you actually considered a friend.

"I am ready for a grace period. Glad Leon's back."

There was that temporary solution to your problems, as well.

Since that heated conversation with Claire, the man weighing down on your conscience was nowhere to be found. The D.S.O and his missions had him all tied up, and from overheard conversations, you guessed he hadn't even stepped foot in the country for the last three weeks. Ingrid had been on call for him for the last week and a half, and it seemed he was finally wrapping up.

"You look like you need a spa day," You said, even without looking back at her.

"I deserve one. He may be capable, but he's a damn pain in the ass."

You cracked a smile in amusement. It wasn't the easiest working with any agent courtesy of their egos, but you were sure Leon was in a different league due to his high caliber missions. Your condolences to Ingrid. If anyone could do it, it was her.

"So, you in for tonight?" The Blue Ace again? Well, you couldn't blame your coworkers considering the demands of the job. However… if you could take the chance after work to try and learn more…

"I've got some things to finish up here," You realized you didn't have to try to sound apologetic. You cleared your throat.

Ingrid was flicking her pen in the air and you heard the small movement stop. "Well. You have my number. When you want to loosen your hold a little, you can join us if we're still there."

"Loosen my hold?"

"You've still got that new job enthusiasm. Do you see me working longer than I have to?"

"All the time."

"Okay, but unpaid?"

Fair point. You couldn't expect Ingrid to understand since she would never know your true reasons for being here. You were even lucky you made it this far; getting comfortable and docile now would cost you. Too much time had already passed. Too many days you would never get back. You refused to not find out the truth, even if it killed you.

"Just if you can. If you can step away for a bit, a drink and a good night's rest won't kill you."

Your fingers stopped typing at your keyboard. You realized then that her feigned nonchalance, her pointed casualness, it was her way of secretly showing she cared. You smiled to yourself, saying, "Okay."

"Never thought I'd see the day where I tell someone around here to stop working so hard. I'm getting soft," She grumbled, and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped.

Hours later, you found yourself in a similar position from a few weeks ago. Waiting until the last person left. Waiting some more. Waiting for the auto lights to shut off.

This time your movements weren't slow or unsure as you started with the name Valentine.

Like Leon S. Kennedy's name, her name was endlessly tied to other cases and links in the database. It was overwhelming, it was endless. She was no joke.

You clicked off one, thought maybe you would take a look at the Raccoon City case again. You searched the title of the case. Scrolled.

Huh.

There were too many cases and key word highlights related to Raccoon City, even Claire and Leon's files populating, but no sign of the Valentine case. You clicked through the first page, the second, and third.

Alarms were going off in your head.

You searched her name and Racoon City. The same, with less results. Nothing related to her night in Raccoon City, not a single document, redacted or otherwise.

With each passing minute, your pulse began to race. You clicked, read, and drowned in the details. You read Claire's file, Leon's file, reeling at the details that were available. You learned more than Claire had ever told you, clicked on hyper links leading to other events tied to Raccoon City with an abundance of redacted information.

No matter what you clicked on, what you searched, the document that had listed your last name was gone.

The singular file attached to Carlos was gone.

A sound echoed from close by, and you logged out of everything. By the time the jingling of keys and a flashlight shone into the room, your bag was shouldered and you were brushing past the security guard.

You couldn't breathe. Something was weighing down on your lungs.

The sound of the overhead lights in front of the elevators were irritating.

Someone knew you were looking.

That someone didn't want you to be.

You stepped into the elevator, pulling out your phone and flipping it open, cold washing over you as the aching loneliness engulfed you.

You were shaken. This revelation was like being shoved to the ground with a boot on your neck.

If someone knew, then what did this mean for your cover?

Your phone buzzed. It was a text from Ingrid.

Loosening the hold?

Typing out a response with one hand, you were in the middle of tugging at your collar when the doors opened to Leon standing on the other side. You barely concealed your surprise as he moved to the side and let you step off.

It was no secret the man was beautiful- that had never tripped you up before- but something caused you to pause.

He had a cut on his jaw, though it was small, and other than that there wasn't anything visibly concerning. You realized it was the look in his eyes. In that brief moment before the doors completely opened, you had glimpsed something dark lurking. Something deep and forged from years of horror…

You suppressed the unease as he turned to face you, the two of you switching places. Your hand was still on your collar, the other hanging in midair. What were you doing?

"LUNA."

"Leon." As his hand went to press the button, your mouth moved without thought. "Working late when you just got back?"

His hand hovered for a moment, then he pressed the button and stepped back. You expected him to fall back on his humor like he did sometimes or maybe not answer you. Some part of you even wondered if he would accuse you with no one around. Instead, he let himself lean on the wall, his head knocking back and eyes falling closed. "Something like that."

The doors closed on that image.

You stood there for a little too long, even after you texted Ingrid letting her know you were meeting her after all.

As you stepped into the brisk cold of night, you gritted your teeth in irritation.

It was the second time Leon was the reason your thoughts of Carlos had taken the back burner. If only for a moment. It was unacceptable. As you headed for The Blue Ace, you vowed not to let it happen again.

Notes:

i was going to hold off but BluemingFeel i had to after your sweet comment! it didn't take much to convince me lol. This is for you (:
(and please let me know if it's okay that i included your username in this note. if not, i'll remove it! )

unfortunately, it's not so easy for mc to find out more. guess i'm making her life harder.

all i can say is... y'all are NOT ready for the next chapter. the next few chapters, also, but i think the next one is going to be a wild ride haha.

last thing i'd like to say is i love work bestie ingrid. i used to have work best friends at my old job and i still talk to them. love them so i wanted to make ingrid amazing too. i honestly love all the women in this fic, i'm having too much fun writing them 3

-august

Chapter 10: i just thought i'd ask (x)

Notes:

this is only the beginning (:

though it's not exactly early, this is still getting released earlier than i usually publish the chapters bc i'm going out to dinner for my brother's birthday. birthdays all around me this time of year, including my own coming up. no, i don't have a big bro but i have a little one and he's the best.

i'm VERY curious about what y'all think of this one. Have any guesses are on what might happen after this chapter? hehe because seriously... this is only the beginning (: these next few chapters are a RIDE.

Enjoy!

- august

Chapter Text

You watched the cursor blink on your computer screen. For a moment, you had never left Friday night. There weren't more questions piled on your shoulders, more risk. It was only this blinking cursor and a suspension before the truth.

The next moment you were in your reality. Monday morning, unable to focus.

Some part of you wondered if this was a good omen, or a bad one. Since you had gotten here, you had become complacent. Had succumbed to the routine. You'd even liked it.

You had no one to blame but yourself. You had grown comfortable. You had turned away from the main goal. All of this wasn't real.

Carlos was real.

"Hey. I was thinking for lunch…" Ingrid's voice trailed off as she set down a coffee on your desk and spotted your face.

You couldn't look at her. The threads you had so finely woven, had held a grip on this entire time, were loosening and snapping with every minute. Pushing away from your desk, you didn't say a word as you beelined for the bathroom. When you turned into the hallway, you rammed straight into a familiar build.

Leon's hands steadied you and you didn't care to stop when he spoke as you shoved past him.

When you were locked away in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror and willing the blur, the pain, everything to go away, you were bombarded with delayed reactions.

Sorry, I should've been- Hey, you okay? LUNA- Leon.

Ingrid's voice trailing off as she set down a coffee, a coffee you hadn't requested but somehow knew she had gotten the order right.

Claire's hardened voice, her reddened face at your doubts.

Chris' towering frame.

Carlos' narrowed eyes.

The sensation of eyes always on you.

Your own closed in the mirror. Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you started to see an F.O.S agent. A diligent worker. Someone forgetting what mattered.

This had never been easy and it never would be. You couldn't allow yourself to be shaken now. All that you had given up- both letting go and losing- had been to get here.

The disappearance of that redacted file meant you were closer than you thought. Even if you had no information, something was there.

One step closer to Carlos.

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, you paused.

Leon was leaning on the wall nearby, head turned away from where you stood. He was wearing a black fitted shirt, his usual shoulder holsters on display. He couldn't possibly be waiting on you…

You moved to walk past him, hoping it wasn't the case.

His gaze locked onto yours as you were about to pass, causing your feet to come to a stop once more. You didn't say a word. It's what he wanted and you couldn't afford to give him any room, not when you could help it.

"You've got…" He didn't say anything else, his index and middle finger pressed together as he brought them up and motioned beneath his eye. He pushed away from the wall as you processed what he was saying, the closeness of his body flooding you as he walked past. He didn't look back as you watched him over your shoulder, your own fingers rubbing under your eyelids and pulling them down to see smudged mascara.

The heat boiling you was more suffocating when you realized you could still feel the heat of his body long after he was gone.

As you scooted into your desk with unnecessary force, it was evident Leon was watching you. Maybe you had done a good job getting situated here, but Leon was a wolf. You weren't sure what you had done to manage getting him on your trail, but you needed to figure out a way to get him to mind his business and fast.

Unless… if he had been watching you all this time, that meant he could possibly be the one to get rid of that file?

You shook your head.

Your gut told you that wasn't the case. That didn't make it any better. It just meant there were more players you had bargained for.

As you picked up the coffee, you heard Ingrid quietly say from her desk, "It's probably not hot now."

"It's okay."

You sensed she wanted to say more. Some part of you wanted her to, some part of you wanted to speak up yourself. When she didn't, you brushed off the bitterness and knew it was for the best. Not only did you have to get Leon off your back, you had to ensure you kept a safe distance from everyone.

One sign of Carlos, and you would be gone.

Setting your cup down, you knew you were in for a long day.

Your point was proven later when you had to take lunch at an unusual hour late into the afternoon. Maybe you had done it to avoid Ingrid, but you could live with not owning up to some of your guilt.

You had every intention of keeping your head down and making it to your desk without any conversation. The brief silence that was wafting from the office had reassured you prematurely, shoulders loosening when you approached.

You had just stepped out into the open when you realized your mistake too late.

Leon and Ingrid were standing at her desk, looking over a document together. After he finished reading the page in hand, he turned to her and began speaking.

Fuck.

Just keep your head down, don't acknowledge them. They're busy, they won't say anything to you. They have other priorities.

"LUNA, shame you couldn't make it to lunch today," Something smacked the top of your head, and you looked to the culprit just as Archer retracted the folder in his hand as he strode past.

"Ark," His nickname slipped from your lips without thinking, too intimate, too familiar. It was all too much. He had just asked you to start calling you that on Friday, and you had every intention not to follow through. Here you were, doing it anyway.

He turned to face you with an arched eyebrow, walking backwards for a moment as he gave a small smile, "You remembered."

"Why would I forget?"

There wasn't any room to breathe when your eyes flicked toward Ingrid and Leon, who were watching the exchange.

Ingrid stifled a smile, her monotone voice a subtle tease, "That's right. A couple beers and anecdotes, and Archer wants you to call him by his college nickname."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop," Walking toward your desk, you ignored Leon's gaze watching you. You eagerly jumped at the light-hearted conversation, taking that over either of them asking about your little breakdown earlier.

"What? It's not me who's got shy guy to walk around with a pep in his step."

"He's not even shy, he's just quiet."

"His nickname is Ark?" Leon asked Ingrid, tone toeing the line of judgment. All signs of amusement were wiped as she sternly looked at him.

"Yes. Now are you finished reading that?"

He mumbled something under his breath, straightening out the paper in his hand as he continued reading. Without looking up, he said, "What's my reward?"

"An advantage out in the field. Preparedness. Security. Less risk of me chewing you out."

"You know just how to-

"Butter you up, yeah I know. Continue," You knew how he got on her nerves. Despite that, you knew she also worried about him, too.

"Maybe I'd read a little faster if dinner was on the table," His voice took on a nonchalant and teasing tone, and you knew he was trying to get under her skin. You watched the cursor blinking on your screen, wondering if she would bite.

"Where else do we all have dinner if not on the table? Stop talking and start reading."

"Guess that's a no."

"Maybe LUNA's more inclined to say yes."

Even though it was only a couple seconds, all traces of sound ceased as you froze. Your mind couldn't register how dry her tone had been, how sarcastic. It couldn't even register that you should act like you weren't listening in.

Then, when you forced yourself to take a breath, the first thought shoving into your brain was, He's going to reject that idea, right?

The reaction time from what she said had to be two seconds, but it felt like two minutes. He was absolutely going to laugh at-

"That works for me. Eight sound good?"

Your eyes slowly widened as you twisted around to look at the two of them. Ingrid was eyeing you in curiosity. Leon was still staring down at that fucking paper. There was no way he was actually reading it, not when he had just dropped that on you.

"What?" Was all you managed to say.

He finally looked up from the paper, meeting your stare before glancing around in what you could only describe was pointedly obvious. "Dinner? At 8 o'clock?"

There was a headache weighing down on you, there must be. A pressure so confusing that it could be the only reason why it was so debilitating. You couldn't think straight. You stated, "She was kidding."

Ingrid nodded, attention already being drawn to her own work. "I was."

Leon shrugged, but you were desperate as you emphasized, "You were kidding. You were doing it to get on her nerves."

He tilted his head as you realized he had grown rather serious, the thoughts racing in your head coming to a standstill. "I was. Now I'm not."

You looked off to the side. This kind of scenario was one you never could've prepared for. You and Claire never sat down and covered the lesson plan, IF SOMEONE IN THE OFFICE YOU'RE USING TO FIND OUT THE TRUTH ASKS YOU OUT TO DINNER.

"So. Dinner? At 8?"

You were supposed to laugh. You were supposed to tease him, to just nicely say no. You weren't supposed to blank, or-

"8:30."

The two of you stared at one another, not breaking eye contact even as he returned the paper in his hands to the rest of the pile. He handed it to Ingrid, finally looking away from you as he addressed her, "Looks good. Thorough as usual."

Even that had grated her, if the annoyed pursed lips were anything to go off of as she finally sat at her desk.

He was still standing there, and he was likely going to look back at you any second. You hadn't said no, you had given him a time. Why the fuck had you given him a time? Just as his head started turning toward you, you faced forward.

You aimlessly began typing some nonsense sentence before erasing and trying to focus. You had to review a case today that was being used in a separate debriefing. Typing in the name, you didn't hear him but sensed his closeness.

A shadow fell over your desk, and then he was there. Your eyes flicked down to his hand coming down on your desk, inches away from yours resting on your mouse. He was hovering above you; to see his face you knew you'd have to twist weirdly and look up at him. He was close, so close you could smell that cologne.

You straightened your shoulders and continued typing.

"Where?"

"Where what?" You didn't stop and you didn't notice how his voice had gotten lower, either. Private between the two of you.

"Where at 8:30?"

You heaved a sigh, moving your hands away from your computer and twisting up to look at him. He was too close. Too close, but you didn't back down.

This had to be a test, didn't it?

Was it?

You studied his eyes, unable to read any emotion or question in his gaze. You couldn't even tell if he was joking or being serious.

Cleverly, he had left it all up to you.

Did you imagine he had leaned even closer. He must've, because now you could barely see his eyes with his hair hanging in the way. "I have a time, but not a place. 8:30 where, LUNA?"

You debated the clear options here. You could just not answer. You could just laugh. You could even take the Ingrid route, deflect it to someone else.

Instead, you found it hard to drag your eyes away from trying to find the answer on his face. Even harder to try and find the answer within you.

Then you turned back around. Continued typing. "I'm sure… you can figure that out."

You dreaded if he had anything else to say. Whatever was happening was bound to be a shitshow. This was a test, this was your test, your test for him- that's right! To see how far he would take his little teasing-

"8:30 it is. See you then, rockstar."

Your gaze lowered to how he slowly dragged his hand off your desk.

Heart pattering in your ears like rain, you refused to look and see if he left.

You just sat there.

Because that? That was your wake up call. That was your harsh wake up call.

An out-of-your-control, first sincere conversation that made you come to terms with it.

Come to terms with what?

Every single response to Leon wasn't for your hidden motives, or for the benefit of your situation. It wasn't even because Claire had insisted you had to get on his good side.

You agreed to dinner with him because the memory of a wordless gift and shaded eyes in the rain was sheltered in your mind for longer than you would've liked.

You agreed because you wanted to catch a glimpse behind those shutters. To cast light on said sheltered memory.

As you began your work, you nodded along in your thoughts.

You agreed because you simply had to.

Right?

Chapter 11: let down your guard (xi)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was six days later that Claire returned from her work trip.

Seven days later, Leon would return from his own.

Once again, the solution to your impulsive agreement to dinner had been postponed indefinitely that same day when Leon was abruptly called out for a mission. That left Leon little room to even talk to you, Ingrid delivering the news and finding herself roped in and busy soon after.

The night Claire returned, you knew you couldn't go any longer with catching her up on everything. Jill, the file, and your little indiscretion with Leon.

You greeted her at her house.

When you stepped inside the foyer, you first noted the unusual quiet. Claire was someone who didn't like silence, so she opted for having her stereo on majority of the time. If not, then the television.

"Claire?"

"In here," Came her voice further into the house.

You found her in her office, hair tied up in a loose ponytail and sweatshirt enveloping her. Though her eyes were bloodshot, her eyebrows were set in a determined frown as she stared at the documents in her hands.

"Hey," You softly said.

She glanced up and put the papers down, standing up and stretching. The tiredness washed away, almost a shift in machinery. "Hey. Finally you're here. I'm hungry and I'm thinking Chinese. I was craving chow mein all month."

"Have you gotten the chance to rest today?" You asked as you led the way back to the living room.

"I'll rest when I've made progress with work," was all she said. You silently watched her as she moved around the room, always on the move, always keeping the sounds alive. For the first time, you understood it wasn't exactly a hobby. It was her own way of moving forward.

"So. Any updates?" Claire asked once she finished ordering. She pulled her legs up on the couch and watched you.

"I don't even know where to begin. I'll say that… I still don't know anything," You raised your eyes to meet hers, "But I do know I'm headed in the right direction."

In the days she was gone, you had gone back and forth about dragging her into this. All these years of friendship, of her becoming family, meant that she was sticking her neck out for you when she insisted on getting involved. You understood Chris deeply, but you also didn't have anyone else. It was selfish, and you would never forgive yourself if anything happened to her, but you also knew you had no one else.

You told her about the document. You fought the urge to look away while mentioning you had read up on the incidents in Racoon City, knowing that included her. Her own stare never wavered. You brought up that it was mostly redacted, but you had confirmed Carlos' direct involvement. It was unreal, seeing his name tied up in all of this. You finished with his connection with Jill Valentine.

For a while, Claire didn't say anything. The two of you sat, and you knew that the permanent disconnect in her eyes would be something you could never puncture. It was likely the same for Leon, for Carlos, for anyone who survived those horrors.

" Jill is the lead to follow, then. That's perfect."

You didn't hide your surprise. "You make it sound easy."

Claire's mouth slowly grew into a grin. "Jill and Chris are thick as thieves. She's never around but I can make this happen. You can talk to Jill."

The simplicity of that slammed into you, making you sharply inhale. All this time, you were this close to something connected to Carlos?

"How busy is she if she's never around?"

"She," Claire couldn't hide the caution in her voice, "Well, she's a part of my brother's team. She's almost always out on the field. Somehow, she's more of a workaholic than Chris."

"So it's not easy at all then."

"It's not even her damn work schedule I'm worried about." Claire stood up, paced the small width of the living room as she cracked her knuckles. "I need to figure out how to keep Chris out of this."

"If they're thick as thieves, I don't see how that's happening."

"Don't underestimate her. Chris is a problem, but Jill is not to be fucked with. If anyone puts him truly in his place, it's her. With this? I think… no, I know she'll understand."

"Do you…" The words grew stuck in your throat. You tried forcing the words out. She came and sat beside you, hand gently cupping yours. You couldn't even look at her. Though a lot of her and Leon's cases were redacted, you knew more than you had ever thought you'd learn about what they faced as well. And she was comforting you. You forced it out. "Do you think she'll know more about Carlos?"

Claire nodded. "At least about that night. She's very resourceful."

You let your head lower, thinking of him filling up the space of your dorm room. Out of place.

Then, Claire's tone changed. "Wait, how long have you known this? Why haven't you told me?"

"It's been a while. We've just been so busy-" Her eyes narrowed and you weighed lying. Again, you knew you had no one else to turn to, "And, well, I held off telling you because I was thinking about whoever wiped the system of the file. They know I'm looking. There was nothing even worth reading in that file with all its redactions. Yet they still took the effort to remove it. They don't like that I'm looking."

"That only means exactly what you said. You're heading in the right direction."

"But… It's a little different now that I'm in it. I don't really have the resources to figure out anyone who may be against this."

"Well," She leaned back in her seat, "Carlos' disappearance means uncovering something that reeks of foul play. Your brother, who was a U.B.C.S agent with Jill that a night, a then S.T.A.R.S agent? It doesn't add up. Someone wants to keep it buried."

"Doesn't that just mean someone's aware I'm linked to this? They must know I'm his sister," You raised your head. "I'm not scared, I'm just… if they have the influence to get something like that to disappear, what does that mean for me?"

Claire's hand clamped down on your forearm and your eyes bounced to hers. There was a fire there, one you knew well. One you hadn't expected for you. "Nothing will happen to you."

You weren't worried about yourself.

You thought of Chris looking down on you, standing in your way. His worry made sense. You thought of Leon, paying attention and wanting to dig a little deeper on why you're involved in the F.O.S. You willingly jumped in head first, and you were starting to doubt you were even equipped- No.

You were.

It didn't matter if someone was watching. It didn't matter if someone had it out for you.

If it were you that day, if it were you that went missing? Carlos would've never stopped looking.

You were going to bring him back.

The food arrived and as Claire went to grab it, you winced when the memory of Leon leaning over your desk resurfaced. The dread of having to tell her about… whatever that whole mess was, it had you wanting to erase it all.

Your timing wasn't the greatest, choosing to just jump into it like everything else while she was in the middle of scooping some shrimp fried rice into her mouth.

"Leon asked me to dinner as a half joke and I agreed."

She inhaled in shock, choking. Waving her hand dismissively, you sat back down even though you had been about to help her-

Claire pounded on her own chest, d eyes dragging to meet yours in shock. "How the fuck did the two of you end up here?"

"I, well," You had honestly pictured this to go a lot more smoothly. All of your talking points went out the window. "Honestly, it doesn't make sense to me either."

She stared at you expectedly. "Well? Explain."

"Oh. I don't know, he was teasing Ingrid or something and she kind of, I guess, passed it over to me. He got all serious and was like," You deepened your voice to try and impersonate him, "'That works for me. Eight sound good?' I was shocked. I pointed out how she was joking. He was joking, too! And he got all serious again and said he was kidding but not anymore. Then I told him 8:30. And that was it."

Your breaths were fast at this point as you mentally yelled at yourself. Way to keep your composure. This wasn't even a big deal, and you were making it into one. You looked up at the sound of Claire snorting and shaking her head. "You and Leon are idiots. Both of you."

"What do you mean?" You were outraged at her reaction. She should be questioning your logic, telling you that you were making everything worse. This past week you started to feel like you really didn't know what the hell you were thinking. How was dinner with Leon going to get him off your back? You weren't some expert liar who would satisfy his suspicions. You were digging your own grave.

You cupped your forehead. "I don't know what came over me. I was completely blindsided."

Claire raised her cup to you. "I'm starting to think maybe it's you who blindsided him. He seems out of his element." As she sipped at her drink, you waited for her to explain. When she didn't, your mouth once again worked against you.

"Well aren't you going to say anything? What do you mean, 'He's out of his element'? What is his angle? Why did he put me on the spot like that? And why aren't you telling me that was the dumbest move I could pull? I mean, he's a wolf, right? That dinner just means he'll figure me out."

"The question you should be asking is why did you agree?"

You opened your mouth. Closed it. The million dollar question you had asked, but only to yourself. The idea that Claire knew you so well wasn't flattering at this moment. You sunk back into the couch. The urge to spill all your thoughts disappeared.

"It's those eyes, huh. People can't resist his baby blues."

"Claire!"

She grinned. You hated when she resorted to humor. "What? He just gives that puppy dog look and everyone eats it all up. Damn, LUNA, I really expected different from you."

You knew she was joking, but it struck a nerve. You thought of the others in the office, how they called him Adonis. You thought of his welcoming nature, how friendly he was to everyone, how he happened to tease in a way that teetered into flirting. Were you really that easy? Had you-

No. You knew that wasn't it. "It's not like that. I could care less."

"You agreed," She sang.

"Not because of his 'baby blues' or his puppy dog look. I've seen all that. I don't care if he's nice or good looking. Or if he flirts. That's all for show."

"Then what?"

"It's-" It was frustrating. You didn't have the words. You barely understood, but it was something you didn't know how to articulate. You had to figure it out on your own."It's nothing. I don't have to worry about it, anyways. It's not happening."

"And why not?"

"He's been out on the field since that day. It's as good as forgotten."

"You severely underestimate the man."

"You're confusing, too," You shook your head. "You talk about him like a good friend, but you also talk about him as if he's a stranger…"

That's when you knew you had struck a nerve this time, her smile fading. Despite pushing it away, your mind recalled the file of their night in Raccoon City. Your heart twisted as you avoided looking at her.

"That's the question, isn't it?" She said. "What I do know is he's a good man. More questions than answers with him, but I can't blame him. Don't stress over dinner with him, if it happens or not. He may be trying to figure you out, but he won't be a problem."

"It's not a good idea."

"Dinner?" You nodded. She shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe it's what you both need."

"Meaning…?"

"You're bright. Figure it out."

She went to the kitchen to refill her drink, and you released the breath you were holding. It wasn't that serious. It was best if you kept him at arm's length, too. Maybe him being called out on the field was the sign you both needed.

From how you had just come undone in front of Claire, you guessed that dinner with Leon would be a recipe for disaster.

It was when you and Claire had turned out the lights and settled in to watch a movie that it was too late and you had found the words to articulate it. You didn't agree to dinner for his looks, or for some master plan to charm him and get him to stop paying attention to you.

The rain. The energy drink. Treating everyone in the office without them knowing. How he looked when no one was around, when no one was watching.

It was the glimpses of the real him he either actively tried to hide away or that he didn't realize himself. It was the him that made you think… Maybe he's more alone than he seems.

How could you resist that puzzle?

You didn't yet realize that for all of your efforts, you were already beyond return. The moment you had slightly opened the door for Ingrid, the team, Leon? You had screwed yourself.

It was only a matter of time.

Notes:

for all her insistence on staying emotionally detached, reader sure does think about leon a lot. i mean i guess if leon shielded me from the rain, i would too haha.

i wanted to say thank you again for leaving me such kind comments and sharing your reactions, thoughts, and guesses. it means the world you're on this journey with me. there is MUCH to come and i'm just glad you're enjoying it. hopefully down the line i don't make you too sad or angry haha...

just because i'm dangling this date in front of y'all, i'll give you a little gift about the next two chapters. they are VERY leon centered. that's all i'll say.

last but not least, HAPPY RE4R RELEASE DAY! you don't know how pumped i am.

-august

Chapter 12: i wish you'd left me wondering (xii)

Notes:

happy RE4R official release day!

happy jimin album release day!

happy jujutsu kaisen season 2 announcement!

happy friday!

it's a really, really good day. thankful for it!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The pain in his thigh wasn't going away, and his cracked rib was making it hard for him to take in deep breaths.

Leon usually didn't bother with trying to avoid injury; he had learned early on it was unavoidable. However, this last mission had done a number on him and he could barely subdue the scowl wanting to crawl onto his face any time anyone addressed him.

The only words he had registered in this debriefing were at the beginning when they detailed everything important. Once he recognized they had explained everything worthy of noting, he was focused on breathing in just enough that he didn't trigger the pain from his rib.

"Mr. Kennedy. What do you think?"

Leon looked up, vaguely noting how the F.O.S member running the meeting had lost the confidence in his stance as soon as Leon looked at him. As he considered his words, he watched as the man's throat bobbed before saying, "Sounds about right."

The man relaxed so much he probably would've collapsed if he weren't holding onto the back of a chair. Just like that, the man carried on and Leon spent the rest of the meeting thinking of going to his office and hiding away.

He hid a wince when he rushed to exit the room as soon as the debriefing was over. Knowing if he lingered, everyone would be on him. Just like they always were. When he was younger, there used to be times he reveled in it. It had made a lot of his lonelier days a lot more bearable. It had lost its innocence quite quickly once he knew it was never done in sincerity.

The efficient steps following behind him indicated Hunnigan was with him. He didn't slow, despite his body pleading with him.

When they made it to his office he uttered, "Shut the door," and he felt her pause more than saw it. He didn't have the energy to throw a joke into the void, anyways. Moving around his desk, he pulled open the drawer and pulled out his prescription. He frowned down at the bottle as he read the instructions before opening it and knocking two into his hand.

Leon realized she was still standing there watching him and continued on, grabbing his water bottle. "You're oddly quiet."

She tilted her head upward. "This mission was rough, huh?"

He blinked. Eyes already drawn to his computer, mind already pulled onto all of their different racetracks. It took some effort to sift through the last mission. He's not sure when, but it came easy to compartmentalize all the missions and shit he's been through.

Shaking his head, he barely hid the scowl forming. The pain was messing with his head. Lots of thoughts about the past, today, and he didn't like it. "Hm," was what he settled on as he sat at his desk.

There was only a few minutes before he had to head out and meet at the D.S.O headquarters. With a bitter smile, he supposed that was the real pain in his side.

"Maybe you should request some time-" Hunnigan cut herself off when he looked at her. He knew he hadn't glared at her, so whatever she saw must've stopped her. There was no time to consider her words or even her concern. There was nothing ever to be done about him, everything to be done for those he worked for. She knew that.

"Did you have something else?"

Hunnigan hid a silent sigh from him. His attention was already somewhere else. Always onto the next.

"Don't forget your commitments, Agent Kennedy."

That stopped him in his tracks. She was already grabbing at the door. "What commitments?" And she had called him by his last name. He did something wrong?

Only Hunnigan's head turned. "Your dinner."

He racked his brain and it took some time to land on exactly what she was referring to- who she was referring to. She was already gone when it found him.

His dinner with you.

Thirty minutes were thirty days in his lifestyle, but he was at his desk dozing off and thinking of you instead of working. Truthfully, with everything going on he was realizing his curiosity and suspicion over you didn't take precedence.

As his pain made him drowsy, he thought of Hunnigan's quiet concern. He thought of your tendencies to try and blend with the shadows, inevitably leaving your impressions everywhere for him to notice.

His commitments? He never forgot them.

Precedence or not, he would honor them.

Dozing in and out, his mind brought him back to that day. To mentioning dinner. To seeing your back stiffen. To watching you and thinking to himself, Say no. Say no. Say no.

His heart dropped when you hadn't.

He wondered if you saw him the way everyone else did. The Adonis, the President's weapon, the government's lap dog. He heard it all. He didn't care because he knew what it was all for. His looks, the attention on him, his skills.

You had never shown him any interest, so why had you even said yes?

You should've said no.

Leon picked his head up and stood.

One dinner was fine. He would leave it at that.

You were preparing for your upcoming mission with Agent Archer all morning. There wasn't a moment to stretch, let alone think about the quiet of the office or the loudness of your thoughts. You had just returned from getting a cup of coffee to find Hunnigan standing at your desk. Their debriefing must've finally ended.

"Morning."

Hunnigan checked her watch. "Morning. How are you?"

Her words weren't suspicious, per se, but her forced nonchalance was causing alarms in your head as you scooted into your desk. You slowly said, "Fine. Tired. Preparing for the mission with Ark."

"I know we haven't been able to talk lately with all of our work. I just wanted to apologize."

You stopped typing and looked up at her. Her eyes shot off to the side, and it was so unlike her. You frowned. "For what?"

"For dragging you into Leon's teasing last week. It wasn't my intention to rope you in, I didn't even expect for him to stop joking."

Ah. "It's okay. Really. You both were messing around."

"Though it didn't seem like you minded," You looked at her and she seemed to realize what she said, "What I mean is, I know we were all joking at some point. But, well, you both got serious. So I tried not to feel bad but I still don't want you to think I was pushing you into it. I'm sorry."

"Ingrid," Your hand cupped her arm. "I accept your apology, even though I think you don't have to say sorry. Leon and I aren't kids. You didn't push us into a play date or something."

Your light and teasing tone seemed to relax her. Without tipping her off, you studied her and found your own heart stirring. Ingrid, at times, reminded you of the part of you that took a lot of work to leave behind. Someone who cared about friends, who made an effort. She was good. Being around her softened you, and you had to be careful.

Thinking that was it, her voice found you again and completely threw you off.

"In his defense, as flirty as he is, Leon never acts on any of that, especially with anyone around here. In the time I've known him, he's not really the type to date. I was just as surprised about his seriousness than I was about yours."

That was something. In your time working here, you knew his popularity and how much people liked him, but you didn't really go past any of that. You weren't curious about his love life or anything personal like that because it didn't concern you.

"Well, we don't have to think about it anymore. The dinner's not happening at this rate," You said. Realizing she was still there, you narrowed your eyes at the guilt that had suddenly appeared in her shifting eyes once more.

"I have to apologize again, then."

"Why?"

"Well, I reminded him."

"Ingrid-" You gritted your teeth..

"After his mission, he just seemed so-"

"LUNA." You both turned, your heart jumping then settling when you realized it was just Agent Archer. Once he had gotten comfortable with you he always made an effort to chat, though he still kept to himself. "Just wanted to say I'm heading out now."

You and Ingrid shared a glance.

"Uh," You stood up. "Okay. Right."

Agent Archer's expression didn't indicate anything and you were doing your best to hide your confusion. That was, until he touched the top of your head with the folder in his hand. "Stay sharp. Missions have been a lot less stressful knowing I have you on comms."

Wow. His words sunk in, then rattled you the longer you considered them. You nodded, racking your brain for a fitting response. You landed on, "You stay sharp, Ark. You're the one out there."

"I will," He gave you a quick smile, then turned and walked away.

You watched him go, pushing off the way his words had left their impression. The more days passed, the more these people indented themselves on you. You were playing with fire.

You were jostled once more as you realized Archer maneuvered around Leon standing a few feet away, watching.

Conveniently, Ingrid was now typing away at her desk.

He stepped forward. There was no penetrating his shield, even when his eyes were visible like they were now. Although you weren't sure how to read him, you picked up on an intensity that wasn't typically there as he came to a stop in front of you.

You thought of Ingrid doing you the lovely act of reminding him of your dinner and pursed your lips.

Leon opened his mouth but what you heard was your own voice beating him to the punch. "I don't have the time to chat, unfortunately. Ark needs me for the mission."

His eyebrow jumped up, but that was the only indication of anything. He nodded, but he didn't say anything for a moment. You resisted the urge to grip your mug tighter. Instead of waiting for him to say anything, your mouth once again took it upon itself to speak up. Again. "Not really sure how long the mission will be."

His eyes took on this unfamiliar glint as he studied you, head slightly tilting.

No surprise, you filled the silence. "Should be pretty straight forward. He's pretty meticulous, but it's supposed to be a pretty standard procedure." Were you going to start breaking the case down word by word? You just realized you had said 'pretty' three times.

Leon was holding a water bottle in one of his hands, a stack of files under his other arm. You blinked when he knocked his bottle into your mug. "Still a hard worker, I see."

Your shoulders relaxed. "Just doing my job."

He stared at you while he drank. What you just said came back to you and you realized that was an idiotic thing to say. Leon paid attention to you because of how you acted at work you had turned his attention to it.

"Now what would the F.O.S do without you?" His voice went low.

Looking away, you focused on taking a drink of your coffee. Instead of wondering where this was going, your attention completely shattered as he said, "If this mission- that you're unsure how long will take- is finished by tonight, does 8:30 still work?"

You lowered the mug, holding it with both hands and staring at the coffee slowly moving around in the cup. "You don't think you should get some rest?"

"Do I look like I need it?" His tone was measured but you somehow noted the flash of humor in his eyes .

"Yeah, you do."

You were still looking at your cup and you knew he was still looking at you. "A nap will suffice. If 8:30 is still ideal, of course."

"I really don't know. Ark is-"

"Meticulous. Yeah, I got that." He didn't sound annoyed, but his voice had an unfamiliar fire to it you chose not to decipher. Then, in a twist of events, it softened. Softened so, you were frozen. "I stood you up for a long time, didn't I? Unforgivable."

He whispered the last word scandalously and you finally looked up.

At that moment, he didn't seem unhappy. He didn't seem so lonely.

It wasn't the Leon in the rain, or in the elevator.

He was a guy trying to ease you, trying to make you smile. An entirely different Leon.

Your mouth moved for you, just as quiet as his. Meeting him. "Appalling."

Leon blinked. Was it just you or did he look even more unfamiliar? "Dreadful."

"Treacherous."

"Repulsive."

You swiftly turned away and settled into your desk. Beginning your work, you paused your typing and said, "Something so unforgivable can only be remedied with a punishment."

"Agreed."

"No matter how severe?"

"The more severe the better."

You didn't turn to look, only continued typing as you said, "8:30 is too kind. 8:31 is harsh. Fair. Might even be too severe."

It was so quiet, you wondered if he had chosen to walk away. Then he said, "8:31 it is."

Notes:

are you ready for their dinner? 👀

if you think you are, just know that you're probably not haha

this weekend's chapters are going to be WILD. time to have some fun...

next chapter will be all in leon's pov (: good luck!

-august

Chapter 13: when will the fantasy end? (xiii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was a Thursday.

It was a day that had started with aches, sharp pains, and lack of energy. Muffled voices, quiet concern, and suppressing the urge to succumb to all of that.

There was the momentary reprieve of his interaction with you, albeit brief. Most of the day was spent away at the D.S.O headquarters, and once he had returned, it was already late into the day and he was swept up again in his work. In between, there were small bouts of dozing off and having to down one of his reserved energy drinks.

Sometime after the sun had already set and the usual chatter outside of his office had all but turned to silence, the sharpened twist from his broken rib was making it increasingly harder to focus on the task at hand. He leaned back in his chair, letting his head fall back. Staring up at the ceiling, eyes burning, his mind trailed. A telltale sign he wasn't at his usual composure.

His scattered thoughts led him to pulling open one of the side desk drawers. He pulled out the small and tattered old journal. It was filled with dates, endless details; an old artifact that represented his past attempts to find handles in the chaos of his life. Tucked in the back pocket was a small photograph.

She was still young in it, yet older than when he had met her the night in Raccoon City. Her smile betrayed nothing of the horrors she never should have had to face.

Sherry, 2000.

All these years, glimpses and words passing, knowing she was out there living.

Maybe it was his lack of sleep, his guard being let down at the photo, or the damn rib that led him to a) not sensing Hunnigan's proximity to his office door and b) the lack of awareness of time.

A rapid knock and he was in the middle of closing the desk when Hunnigan entered. "You're still here? What are you doing?"

"Working," He said in an obvious tone. Wondering if it was too harsh, all thoughts of preservation disappeared when she strode around his desk and roughly turned his chair. "Hey, the hell-" She swept her arm to motion for him to get up. "What are you doing-"

"Dinner? LUNA? Ring any bells?"

His confusion ebbed away. His head really was muddled today. "Right. Okay, I got it." She didn't leave like he had expected- and wanted- not even as he finished sorting everything on his desk and got to his feet. He glanced at her, hiding a wince as he slowly slid on his jacket. "What's your deal? Why do you care so much?" His tone came out curious, light.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Listen-"

"In fact, you seem to care more than the two of us combined. She wasn't exactly jumping for joy earlier when I reminded her of our plans. You paying her off or something?" The question was a joke, but he wasn't exactly keen on Hunnigan's insistence or your confusing signals. He wasn't even keen on his own decision making today.

"It would be good for you. And for her." She finally settled on, as if he had dragged it out of her.

He tilted his head. "Would it?"

"Yes. The two of you, always working hard, always head deep in the clouds. A dinner doesn't seem all that bad in the grand scheme of things."

He waited for her shifting eyes to meet his, amused at her unusual nervousness. Leon uttered, "It's just dinner."

"Exactly. So hurry it up. You're already going to be late. Are you planning to change?"

He glanced down at his clothes then up at her.

The next twenty minutes were a blur of his car, dropping by his place to change, then heading to yours. He was really doing this. Taking you out to dinner.

His usual antics had landed him in a situation that he hadn't anticipated. Yeah, he had led himself here, but he supposed it was going to happen sooner or later. Except, it wasn't. His jokes and teasing had never brought him here before. It was his own doing just as much as yours.

While he drove, his mind trailed to that photo in his desk. How so much time had passed. Honest with himself, it didn't take him long to know why he was open to having dinner with you. Past the wariness and past the evident mystery you were, he also knew you had spared him little thought. It was the most sincerity he had witnessed in years, and he knew himself well enough to know he was captivated.

Gripping the wheel tight, he relaxed his hold.

It wasn't comfortable, sensing that familiar and old craving he had learned to stomp out.

How sad that companionship was still something he longed for, something he learned to leave behind five years ago.

How sad, it was stemming from you, the one person who didn't give him the time of day like everyone else.

The sour taste in his mouth came back, the disappointment unfurling in his stomach when he had silently begged for you to reject him and you hadn't. He was contradictory, he knew that, too. When all he had was himself, he spent all his time learning the infuriating qualities about him. Once that became unbearable, he had turned to locking all of that up inside of himself.

Leon hummed in amusement. Guess he never shook off his interest in emotionally unavailable women, even after all these years.

His smile faded, knowing you were carrying something. A secret. An ulterior motive. A mask.

He supposed that was what he needed to make this dinner about. This wasn't some brilliant ploy to fulfill any longing of an authentic connection. It was the opportunity to pick your brain.

At a red light, with no one around, his handle on his thoughts once again weakened. With a quiet song playing on the radio, he tried thinking far back into the past. To the kid he used to be, to the dreams he used to have. It doesn't bother him, not anymore or like it used to.

That's the comfort and the betrayal of routine; one day, you're young faced and bright eyed, bursting with opportunity and hope. Then, you blink and it isn't one day, it's years and you're just a reflection of everyone else. Lost in the warped glimpses you find in spoons, windows, the gleam of your knife.

His worst truth was sometimes he missed that day in Raccoon City. The worst day of his life. It was the last time he had ever felt so profusely, so alive. Going back there in his mind, it took his breath away.

Leon had noticed the green light first- consequences of getting swept up in forgotten pasts- before he noticed the SUV parked in the intersection. His hands gripped the wheel as he watched the passenger door open, a familiar hardened face stepping out and pulling open the back door to the SUV in waiting.

He shut off his car's ignition at the same time he shut off all of those weaknesses.

His body had barely slid into the SUV before the door closed and the man two seats away nodded at the driver. Leon's right fist clenched before loosening.

"Mr. Kennedy." He had known it was Taylor because it almost always was. The man was the messenger, the handler, whatever he wanted to call it. Taylor reveled in it, too, which was the unbearable aspect of this 'partnership'.

Leon wasn't even indebted to him, yet Taylor made sure to act as if he were.

"There was no doubt you would return from your last mission." Leon carefully kept his eyes trained forward, the venom on his tongue being swallowed. It really wasn't his day. "The Department has another operation for you."

He half listened.

The pain was so sharp in his body, his vision went spotty.

His venom and his frustration was juvenile. His composure today was all out of whack. It was possibly the worst timing Taylor could've had.

Now, he knew why his tiredness and pain had spurred on reminiscing. It was for this moment. This reminder. Desires, hopes, dreams, they all died when you had puppet strings tethered to you.

A hand found his shoulder and Leon stiffened. From his peripheral vision, he saw how Taylor's eyes gleamed. "... if anyone can execute this extraction with the utmost precision, it's you."

It was far from the first and the last time he would hear that.

"Don't disappoint, Agent Kennedy. Your talents are appreciated, but not indispensable. Don't forget," He leaned forward, voice dropping as Leon resisted the urge to tense up, "You are nothing if not a weapon."

"I won't," He said, only responding to the first line. It was most of their interactions. Taylor, on a power trip. Leon, having to swallow it.

They let him out beside his car and drove off without another word.

He stared up at the red light, his right fist clenched.

There weren't any cars at any of the intersections. He looked at his own car.

What it would be like to just keep driving.

He would head to the furthest coast. Then, he would head in the opposite direction to the furthest mountain. Find a plane. Find a boat. Find something.

The light turned green and he watched.

Yellow

Red.

He got in, and when it turned green again, he kept driving. For five minutes, then made a right. Drove some more.

He could picture the salt in the air, the chill of the wind. His lungs burning at high altitudes. Neck aching high in the sky, or body lurching with a boat.

The car came to a stop in your apartment complex's parking lot.

It was in a semi-sketchy area. The complex itself was austere, practical. He had to combat his pain with small breaths now as he picked up his cell phone and called.

When you picked up, his mind was still in that SUV. He was still swinging, being made to dance. Being made to speak.

"I'm here."

As he waited, he glanced at the time. 9:03.

Some part of him wanted to wince but he was so far removed, he could only mull over that SUV ride.

So many words today. So many moments.

Always alone.

Even now, waiting for you.

He always would be.

Notes:

the first completely leon-centered chapter...

OOF (,:

- august

Chapter 14: when will the heaven begin? (xiv)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Were you… nervous?

Shaking off your jittery nerves, you hit the lights and walked through your living room, checking the time above the stove as you went. You and Agent Archer had wrapped around 7:45 and it took about fifteen minutes to get home. So you were working with thirty minutes to be ready before Leon arrived.

You paused in the doorway of your bedroom.

It was hardly ever clean or organized here. Clothes and jackets scattered, your dresser stacked with books and papers. Your desk was worse; a jungle of printed out articles, newspapers, written down thoughts. Above your desk was your bulletin board you hadn't bothered to take down when Claire had put it up for you.

A relic of the past.

Untouched when Claire offered to re-organize it.

Frowning, you know there were quite a few photos and things from your previous life. In college, with your friends and your ex-boyfriend. All of that wasn't worth preserving, no.

Your feet carried you to the desk, hand going up and fingertips touching the two photos there. One was of Carlos in his military uniform, looking too sharp and nothing like his usual rough self. Beside it was from your high school graduation, cap askew due to his arm pulling you close and his hand pinching your cheek. Most pictures like this, you would be in the midst of yelling at him or frowning. That day, you were just smiling.

On the part of the bulletin board where you could write was a pink sticky note with old and small handwriting. You had every word memorized.

Hey, Lisa.

Don't forget my number one piece of advice:

Don't pull your punches. He crossed that line out as a joke.

Never shrink.

-Bart

As you dragged your fingers away from the pink sticky note, you swallowed past the memory of him slouched over your desk your very first day in your dorm room, hiding the note behind him when you asked what he was doing. Finding the note long after he had left for deployment.

In the shower, your mind was gently coaxed into the memories. As kids, he called you Lisa as an insult and you did the same with Bart. Watching it together, his explosive laugh making you flinch then throw pillows at him.

Out of the shower, you stood in front of the mirror. Water dripped onto the tile. You looked so tired. You turned away. When you found yourself in the closet, staring but not seeing, you were holding up your home phone before you even realized.

"Hey-"

"This is already a disaster."

"Alright," Claire whispered out, movement on the other line. "Lay it on me."

"What is this?"

Silence. "What is… what?"

"This dinner. Just stupid."

The silence was working up your frustration but then, "Ah! The Leon dinner! So it's still happening, I see. Right now."

"Right now in," You walked out of the closet, checked the clock, "Sixteen minutes!"

"What's the issue?"

"I don't even know why I agreed to this. I thought I knew, but now that it's happening, it's just ridiculous."

"Okay. Well, then cancel."

"Cancel?" You breathed in, out.

"Don't… cancel…?" Claire tested out.

"You're terrible at this."

"I despise dating. You called the wrong person."

"You're all I got! Who do I call, Chris?"

"Ha! Hilarious." Claire was chewing. After a few seconds, she said, "Well, let's take this one step at a time. Why do you think it's ridiculous?"

"He's… he's Leon!"

"Still just as lost. Even more now."

You forced yourself to take a deep breath. You whispered, "Is this a date? Am I supposed to treat this as a date?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Instead of freaking out, you forced yourself to think before answering. "I don't have any time or room for that."

"Not what I asked."

"No. I don't want it to be a date. Well, I don't know. All I know is, I don't know Leon."

"That's what dates are for, dumbass."

"It's just that…" You thumbed one of your shirts. "I'm already feeling like I'm getting too comfortable at work. When I've talked to Leon, I just don't see what other people do. I mean I do. He's a good looking guy, he's nice, and his reputation precedes him. More than that, I think I'm curious. Because he is more than all of that."

Her silence didn't frustrate you or make you nervous anymore. It came out soft, understanding. "That's okay. It's just dinner, LUNA. Curiosity is normal. There's definitely more to Leon than anyone assumes."

Maybe it was dramatic- you certainly hadn't figured out why you were so stuck on it- but whenever you thought of him, it was him in the rain. No one around, no expectations. No conversation. Just a meeting of two isolated souls.

Then, it was the wordless hand reaching out, seeing you when you were blending in.

"I'm okay. Just nervous, I guess. It's dinner, yeah, but I haven't met anyone in years like this."

"Whatever it is, he'd be a fool not to enjoy this," Claire always knew how to get you to calm down.

"Thank you," You whispered.

"It was all you, rockstar. Go with the dark blue dress."

Your hand was on the very dress she spoke into your ear, your hand dropping as you looked around. "Do you have cameras planted in here?"

"I just know you more than I know myself."

"Well, I know you and you're the definition of a rockstar-" You thought of, then, how Leon had called you that. It could've been a coincidence, sure, but it was odd. It was like he had known you and Claire's nickname. "Dark blue dress it is."

"Go kick his ass! Wait, sorry," You laughed, "Wrong scenario. Eat to your heart's content! And relax. Leon's nice. So are you."

You weren't too sure about that, but you still thanked her and hung up.

Heart settled, you started on your makeup, ignoring the panic growing at the dwindling time.

8:30- 8:31- was so close you figured he'd show up way before you even finished. You didn't worry about that. This was a night to enjoy yourself. Who knows? You might even gain a friend from it. A friend with a lot of admirers and eyes on him, but a friend nonetheless.

Just as you finished up your eyes and studied them, the CD you were playing switched to the next song. It was a CD you reserved for getting ready, and it's one you used to frequently listen to. You had burned songs onto it that had made you feel confident, hot, everything under the sun. One song in particular, had a memory you had completely forgotten unveil as you stared at yourself in the mirror with wide eyes.

After all, it had been years since you'd listened to this song. How could you have forgotten, though?

"Knock knock."

You didn't turn, focus entirely on your eyeliner as you muttered, "Why do you say it instead of just, I don't know, knocking?"

"I'm all about creativity." He wasn't going anywhere, you knew he was hovering and waiting. You heaved a sigh and lowered your hand, staring at him from your perch through the mirror. Carlos was leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed and patient.

"What?" You couldn't hide your exasperation.

"This guy picking you up?"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him and his "Tough Guy" voice. You continued doing your eyeliner. "I'm meeting him there." He scoffed. "That's what I wanted to do."

"You sure?"

Your hand dropped and you glared at him this time. "Don't ruin this."

"I'm not, I just-"

"Think the guy should pick you up on the first date. I know. I've heard it all before. I'm an adult now. And your idea of romance is a bit dated."

Carlos put a hand over his heart. "Damn. When did you get so grouchy? College is doing a number on you." When you stopped once again, he held his hands up.

You finished up your eyes and he was still there.

"What now?" You said, whipping around to him studying one of your CD cases. Wide-eyed, he set it down.

"I can't give you my moral support?"

"Don't need it."

"It's your first date with this guy-"

"Second, and I'm good."

"I would really like to meet him. You know, just to feel him out."

"Sure." You had no intention of letting him meet him. But his satisfied grin meant he would get out quicker.

"You must really like him," He said after a few beats.

"Why do you say that?" You said, continuing your makeup.

"You pulled out the CD."

"What?" He finally got your attention.

"Your Lovesick CD. You only pull this out when you really like a guy. And that includes when he doesn't know you exist. You listened to it all the time in high school-"

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about."

"You know I'm right," He laughed.

"Like you're any better! When Laurel broke up with you, you listened to that country CD for two months straight!"

His eyes narrowed and you shot him a triumphant grin.

That was, until the next song started up and he started poorly fighting a smile. You warily watched him in the mirror. He started laughing, pointing at the radio, then doubling over and saying something you couldn't understand.

"Get out," You bluntly said.

"No, wait," He gasped.

"Get out!" You yelled, climbing to your feet and going to shove him out.

"This song… is perfect. It's literally you," He said, then in an impressive feat, composed himself in time for the lyrics to start. Incredible that you're incredibly goofy brother still managed to embarrass you. Right in the middle of your bedroom, he proceeded to half sing, half shout the lyrics to Real Love by Mary J. Blige, "'...I've been searching for someone to satisfy my every need. Won't you be my inspiration? Be the real love that I need.'"

You shoved him into the hall and slammed your door. You wanted to scream as he laughed all the way down the hall, hearing him scream back to you, "'Real love, I'm searching for a real love. Someone to set my heart free. Real love, I'm searching for a real love.'"

"Carlos! Shut the fuck up!" You shouted, irritated even with a smile on your face.

Mary J. Blige's voice surrounded you as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were staring at yourself at first, but now you couldn't see past your stinging eyes. Your hand dialed and held the phone up to your ear once more.

This time it hardly rang before Claire picked up.

"Lay it on me. Again." Somehow, your silence must've sounded different because her voice grew really serious. "What is it?"

The guilt was consuming. You turned away from the mirror, hating the sight of you in the dress. Of the tears aching to fall. "I'm doing this when I should be looking for more information."

"LUNA…"

You squeezed your eyes. You whispered, "I'm letting myself get distracted. Enjoying myself. When he's out there missing. If it were me, he would've found me already. Or… or he wouldn't be doing this."

"That's not fair."

"It's not." You wanted to shout but it came out quiet. "It's not fair to him-"

"No, it's not fair to you. You're giving this your all, LUNA. You are doing everything for Carlos and you will find him. But not by working yourself to death or not taking some time for yourself. You think Carlos would want you to seclude yourself? To miss out?"

Her logic snuffed out your turmoil like it was a delicate match.

Your shoulders sagged.

"Not being ready is one thing. Not wanting to is one thing. But don't be the villain in your own story. You deserve this."

You rubbed at the slight smudge underneath your eye, thought of Leon pointing beneath his eye with his fingers, You've got…

He didn't even know it, did he? How he had looked out for you? How you saw glimpses of the parts he hid away.

"I was thinking… Carlos was right about my ex."

"Yeah, he was. Your ex was a Class A dick. If I ever run into him," She practically growled.

"Carlos is going to love you," You said, and those words gently pushed out the guilt, if for a moment to give you to breathe.

"If he's anything like you, I'll love him too."

"Love you," You whispered to her.

"I love you too. Call me again if you want, okay?"

"Okay."

Real Love was long over by the time you got off the phone with Claire. You opted to switch the CD, okay with hearing something a little different. You fixed up your makeup quickly, figuring you were running a little late.

When you found yourself on the couch, you turned the television on. Then off. Then on. Glanced over the back of the couch, checking the time. 8:37.

He was running late, but that was fine. You didn't have to worry about rushing.

You half paid attention to the sitcom, realizing it was taking a while.

By 8:56, your tv volume was lowered and your shoes were kicked off. You had stared down at

home phone for a minute or two, itching to dial Claire's number but choosing not to.

At 8:59, you had opened a bottle of wine, taking a big drink with your eyes on the stove clock. Trying to wash away the confusing and bitter disappointment you were swallowing along with it.

You finished your glass at 9:02, just as your cell phone began blaring. You were slow in grabbing it, staring at the unnamed number.

You braced yourself for an apology, to the dispeling of this heaviness in your chest.

"I'm here."

No greeting. No apology. No explanation.

The heaviness in your chest deepened.

Those two words let you know you were in for a rough night.

Notes:

i started playing RE4r today! it's so good! the game mechanics are everything. i can tell it'll be harder though.

next chapter is the dinner chapter, and it's the longest chapter of the work thus far. i've been WAITING to get here. it'll be tomorrow's chapter. i feel like we've learned a lot about mc and leon as individuals. (at least i hope you feel that way haha). now let's see who they are together...next stop: their dinner (:

-august

Chapter 15: gone a little far (xv)

Chapter Text

You were out of your mind. It was decided.

The wine had taken off the edge and nerves, leaving you in the aftermath of doubt.

In the darkness of Leon's car, heater gently warming you and music filling the space, you focused all of your energy on not thinking about the question sitting in the driver seat. The outside world blurred as you passed, your nostrils overflowing with the nice car freshener he had. It smelled more like cologne than any other car freshener you'd smelled.

It calmed you as you reflected on the events of the night thus far. After meeting him downstairs, you had taken one look at him and confirmed you were in for a night. You had steeled yourself, trying to collect your composure considering you had already let go of your calmness the second you had let yourself feel disappointed.

He had held open the door to the passenger door and though you had muttered your thanks, he was still yet to say anything. Those shutters hiding him away were impenetrable and you wished you had the machinery to break through. What was once alluring was now a distance you were unsure you could cover.

Your hand itched to grab your cell phone from your bag.

What had you expected, exactly?

Conversation. Questions. Understanding.

You silently scoffed to yourself. You carried more of your younger self's optimism than you thought.

Without turning your head, you watched him from your peripheral vision.

Leon had changed clothes since you last saw him in the office. You were surprised to see him in slacks and a button up white shirt, though it was open at the top. The only time his eyes moved was to check his mirrors, and although he was so careful about keeping his expressions neutral, you knew he was faraway.

You turned your head toward the passenger window, thinking about ordering a drink when you reached the restaurant.

Friendship. Kinship. Connection.

What a joke.

The lights blinked in and out of the car. The music trickled in and filled the space.

You had two desires now: to get through this fast and to forget the constructions your mind created of how this would be.

You were too in your head to realize you were pulling into a parking lot. Snapping to attention, you straightened just as Leon shut the ignition off.

"This is it."

You looked over at him and saw how his bright eyes glimmered toward the front windshield. Following his gaze, you vaguely recognized the name of the dimly lit place. Lenny's.

The relief of escaping your thoughts was quickly replaced with awkwardness. You had just climbed out of the car, and paused seeing Leon standing there. Your eyes met, then you looked away as you closed the door. He had been about to open your door, but you had beat him to it. He hovered a few feet away, and you joined him at the front of the car.

"Lead the way," You said, because the silence was killing you.

No wonder the man didn't date, if what Ingrid said was true.

You shook your head. It was just dinner, and you could tell you weren't giving it a chance. You had to pull it together.

"For two," Leon gruffly said when the two of you reached the host at the front. The young girl stared wide-eyed at him, nodding rapidly and glancing over at him continuously as she grabbed two menus.

"Oh, uh," She nervously laughed. She had to be in high school. You waited as she tried to compose herself, "Right. Table or booth? We also have indoor and outdoor seating."

"Indoor, and…" Then he looked at you. Asking for your preference.

You pursed your lips. What, was he looking to salvage this now? You told her, "Booth, please."

A table was decidedly more of a "things are going well" choice. A booth meant at least you'd be comfortable.

The young girl nodded at you with flushed cheeks, "This way."

Expecting Leon to lead, you stiffened when you sensed his hand hovering over your lower back. You sidestepped him, watched his eyebrow bounce up for a second before he followed after the girl.

Watching his back, you tried to give yourself a pep talk. You didn't have to make this more tense or awkward. Some connections, you reasoned, can only be sustained in a certain environment. That was it, yes. You were just like everyone else in the office. You had built him up in your head as this mysterious, isolated, and alluring guy who showed himself in glimpses.

You blinked and realized he and the host were waiting for you to slide into the booth. You did so, watching as Leon slid in on the other side and accepted his menu. You took your own, flipping it to the drinks section.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," You shot her a gracious smile, wishing you could convince her to stay and provide you entertainment.

After studying the drinks, you scanned your surroundings. You personally had never been to Lenny's, but it was a cozy and beautiful little spot. It had an expansive bar in the middle of the building, and plenty of the tables and booths were occupied tonight. The lights were dimmed and pleasing to the eye, romantic.

You gripped your menu tightly, refusing to look up at Leon.

He still hasn't said anything.

Somehow, your irritation grew as you thought of Claire's support, Ingrid's encouragement. They could've talked you out of this-

"Would you like to order individually or share a dish?" Your eyes struck him in a blaze. If he sensed your energy, he didn't say a word. He added, "They have pizzas. Stews. Servings for two. Or if you want to order individually, we can do that, too."

So when it comes to food, he's chatty. "I'm still deciding on my drink."

He nodded slowly, eyes sliding away in thought. Always far. Always alone.

You forced yourself to look back down.

Saved from more unbearable silence, your waiter appeared. They introduced themselves, asking for drinks.

"I'll have water for now," Leon said. You studied how he looked with his head tilted up, neck exposed. You counted two beauty marks. His eyes in this lighting were almost warm, almost open. You shook your head. Even now, you were tricking yourself. He was just a puzzle. A puzzle, a problem.

"And you?"

"I'll have a glass of this wine," You pointed down at the menu and the waiter nodded as they wrote in their notepad.

"And are you ready to order or do you need more time?"

"We need more time-"

You cut Leon off, "I'll have the fettucine alfredo, please." Your pulse jumped when you glanced at him, eyes locked on you.

The waiter glanced between the two of you.

Maybe you were a little more bold than you'd anticipated.

"O-kay," Leon straightened as he glanced down at the menu then closed it, "I'll have the Pasta alla Norma."

At least with the menus, you had something to do. As you watched the waiter walk away, you braced yourself for the silence. You tensed when you turned your attention back to Leon studying you from across the booth.

Like this, he was brutally beautiful.

With nobody to blame but yourself, you waited on that wine.

"I was late," he said. Real subtle. When he went quiet once more, as if he were searching for an answer, something in you went cold.

You weren't sure why, but you didn't have the energy to be forgiving.

In the last five years, you had been let down and had closed out everyone and everything you'd ever known. When Carlos disappeared, you didn't have the capacity for the people who said they were your friends, your love, your family and what they demanded of you.

No one. Absolutely no one, aside from Claire, had ever proved to you to have faith in people.

When had you thought Leon was even worthy of your curiosity?

You realized you had said something, with the way his head was tilted. You took the moment to recall it before you straightened your back and found it. Doesn't matter either way.

Subtlety, it seemed, wasn't your strong suit either.

He opened his mouth just as the waiter appeared with your drinks. Leon had started thanking him as you grabbed your glass and took a huge drink.

"Company that bad?" He asked. You lowered your glass, staring at him as he leaned back into the booth. Hair messy, shirt undone on the top, he looked so… human. So unlike all of the versions of him. You just shrugged. "Listen…"

You hated that tone. You hated that look on his face. Was it pity? Sympathy? Guilt? Or were you still filling in the blanks for him? Did he not care even the slightest?

You thought of your trip down memory lane earlier, how Carlos had always wanted to meet your ex boyfriend. How you had been ashamed, because you knew deep down Carlos wouldn't like him and you didn't want your ex to endure that. How right your own suspicions had been. Carlos would've hated him, and you never gave him the chance because you somehow knew your ex wasn't worth it.

You had spent so much of your final time with Carlos pushing him away, cutting him out, hating him for leaving first to the military, then far away from you. You had spent your final moments cursing him out. The very last time you talked to him on the phone, tail between your legs and asking him to forgive you. Him always forgiving you.

You were a shitty sister. A shitty girlfriend. A shitty friend.

You looked into the ocean of Leon's gaze and saw your own reflection.

"Really, Leon. It doesn't matter. Wasn't even surprised, truthfully."

His eyebrows had slightly pulled together. "Meaning?"

The chatter of the other tables, the music, and the clattering of silverware were gone as you stared into steel blue.

"Why expect anything more?"

"I still don't understand what you mean." His voice held an edge. Was that frustration?

Were you actually getting reactions? Were you actually getting something you had wanted in the first place? Deep down, you could feel yourself cringing, could hear your inner voice pleading with you to stop.

You couldn't.

So you shrugged. Took a sip of your wine. Waved your hand. Dismissive. Unfamiliar.

Sometimes we're just not cut out for-

Fuck. You.

"I mean, it's you," A laugh spilled out from your lips. He was staring at you in dismay now. There was an ache in your chest and you ignored it. "Reputations exist for a reason."

Leon's hand was gripping his glass of water. He hadn't drank from it once. "And what's the reason?"

"Come on, Leon. Don't act oblivious."

"Enlighten me."

"You really don't know?"

He didn't say anything. He just looked at you. There was so much to study in his face, so much to decipher. At what cost?

When he looked away, you panicked. He was showing himself, and he was going to retreat. He was going to hide away again.

You blurted, "I just should've known."

"Never took you for the cryptic type," He hadn't retreated far, head turning back to you with a speed that threw off your little spiel. His jaw had tightened for a moment.

"I'm an open book."

He nodded along as you spoke, uttering, "A comedian, too."

You narrowed your eyes. "What's funny?"

This time, he took his time drinking from his glass. The longer he took, the more your irritation built. It was ugly, claws out, wanting to lash out at his smugness. You repeated, "I don't see how my being an open book was funny."

"You really don't know?" He quoted, you blinked, he tilted his head, and you narrowed your eyes once more.

You had control. You wouldn't let him trick you. "Enlighten me."

He intertwined his fingers atop the wood and leaned forward, dragging his eyes across your surroundings, before landing on you. Voice low, "Only someone with something to hide would feel the need to declare themselves an open book."

You didn't have control. He had cornered you.

Blood rushed into your ears as you gripped your glass tightly. You hoped your expression was calm because he was staring at you so heavily you couldn't take in a deep breath.

You were a fool.

You tried to find a ledge in his eyes as you tried to stop thinking about Carlos. About why you were in the F.O.S. About the Raccoon City files. About the horrors he endured. About Claire's horrors. About Jill.

"I have nothing to hide." Finally. Finally, you said something. It wasn't enough.

He sat back, and though his expression was carefully crafted, you sensed his satisfaction.

He had played you.

This whole dinner, this whole night, his hot and his cold, it was all a ploy. He had exploited your curiosity, your belief that maybe he was more, all while he had found the one thing that had softened you to him.

The image of him in the rain blackened and burned to ashes.

Your head was heavy. The pressure was immense, and you tried pushing it down.

You need to get over it, LUNA. He's gone, Your ex had said to you the day you'd cut him off, smug and self-centered when you had turned to him to say, Get the fuck out.

Your friends, whispering about you, unaware you could hear them. She's just not the same. It's depressing. She really… I don't know, dampens the mood when she comes out with us. I know, I know, I'm a bitch for that! But come on…

None of them. Not a single one reached out when you walked away.

Tonight, you had been cocky and convinced you had a handle on Leon. Instead, you were humiliated knowing you had somehow confirmed whatever he had been thinking about you.

You didn't care anymore. You cared too much.

You thought of his dismay, of his frown. "And you?"

"What about me?"

The food arrived, offering a momentary reprieve. You didn't look away from him, even as he looked up again and talked with the waiter. The space between you had never been so wide.

He had picked up his fork just as you said, "You're a prop."

From one moment to the next, you watched a carefully crafted and composed man. Body coming alive, live wires, eyes flashing like lightning.

Brutally beautiful.

"You still want to be enlightened?" You asked.

His fork was still aimed for his first bite.

"You're what they say you are, aren't you?" You couldn't stop.

Though he was a live wire, his voice came out frustratingly calm. "What am I?"

"Come on."

He set his fork down slowly. You held your breath. "If everyone is so right, why are you here?"

"Because I wanted to figure it out for myself. And I did."

"You did, huh?"

You nodded, but it didn't come out confident the way you wanted to. The eagerness and determination you had felt was slipping out of your grasp and leaving something desolate in its wake. Desperate, you whispered, "You're their spectacle."

Leon's eyes jumped up and then your mind short circuited when he smiled. Picked up his fork. Took a bite. He didn't care. He didn't care?

"Now I'm a spectacle?"

"I…"

He loosely pointed his fork at you. "If I'm a spectacle, you're a fraud."

No.

Leon motioned to his face. "Just a mask. There's nothing there. You don't belong."

His words were a punch to your lungs. He stole your breath away, he ripped you open and prodded at the one thing he couldn't possibly know yet had found. Your one doubt you had carried throughout your entire life. You're in way over your head, kid.

"You don't know me," You shook your head.

"I do."

"No-"

"Just like you know me. I'm the puppet, the prop. You're the fake, the fraud." His words were intentionally theatrical, but the look in his eyes was haunted.

You pushed the plate away. "I think dinner is done." Your feet knocked into his as you slid out of the booth. He looked up at you as he put down his fork and you grabbed your bag. As he moved to slide out, you held up a hand, "You should stay."

His eyebrow twitched up and you ignored all of the little pieces you could now see. This was too much, you had gone too far, you- "The mask slides off and you run. Very surprising."

"What do you want from me?" You hissed, drawing closer and putting your hands on the table near him. Looking up, he studied you. "What, Leon? I'm no one. So instead of judging me, why don't you just mind your damn business? I'm not Claire. I'm not Ingrid. I'm not your friend."

"I don't want anything from you."

"Yeah, you do. It's in your damn nature. But I don't need you getting in the way."

"Getting in the way of what?"

Your attention sharpened and you realized how you were practically leaning over him. His stare didn't waver. Everything he'd said, done, it was all to get here. You were truly played, huh? Just like that.

Slowly dragging your hands off the table, you took a shaky step back. "Don't."

"I don't know what's going on but I can help."

"Stop," You closed your eyes. When you opened them, he was standing in front of you. Never wavering.

This wasn't him.

You don't belong.

You considered your words carefully. You needed to aim true. You knew what had set him off tonight. He had read you, and you had done the same.

Maybe this was the exact opposite of how you wanted things to go, but you could still do damage control. You had to, because if you didn't, he was going to get involved now.

His eyes widened the slightest when your hands came up his shirt. You felt the firmness of his body as you dusted it off, him watching you closely when you kept your hands on his chest. You whispered, "A lap dog like you can't do anything for me."

You expected him to reel back. To lash out. Even to recover the way he had before.

When you pulled away, there was the briefest moment you caught his wince. Then you were staring into that familiar impenetrable gaze. He uttered, "I'm not your enemy."

"But you're not my friend."

"LUNA-"

You took a step back and let your hands fall. "You wear your mask and I'll wear mine."

Turning around, you headed for the exit. When you stepped outside you were slammed with the cold air, the quiet, and the weight of everything that just happened. You leaned on the nearest brick wall, hissing at the cold and wrapping your arms around yourself.

You closed your eyes at the thought of his frown, his wince, his anger.

One of the many takeaways? You were more destructive than you'd ever known.

Just a mask. There's nothing there.

The door abruptly opened and you knew it was him. You didn't look at him.

"At least let me take you home. It's late."

You weren't an idiot. You knew he was right. But you dreaded the thought of riding in that car with him. You just nodded.

He led the way.

You were in the passenger seat.

The heater was running. The music was going. The sights outside were blurring.

It was decided. You were out of your mind.

Leon was, too.

Somehow, him bailing would've been better than what tonight turned out to be.

Now you know.

All those glimpses, those moments. They were coincidences. And you knew that your words had struck him just the same.

The two of you weren't peas in a pod.

The two of you were alone.

Yeah, You thought of Carlos, I'm in over my head.

Every inch of your body avoided looking at him, but you wondered if he was feeling the same thing. This desolate and endless loneliness.

If he were, you knew he would be okay. He was admired, respected, and adored. And you?

You were alone again.

Chapter 16: they say move on but you know i won't (xvi)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Somehow your apartment was colder after Leon dropped you off.

You didn't bother to turn on the lights.

Climbing into bed, you curled up and tried to ignore the knot in your throat. When your eyes tried peering through the dark toward the photo of your brother over your desk, you squeezed them tight.

No memories clung to you. Neither memories of laughter nor of tears.

You were truly and terribly alone.

The sky was gray and you woke up in a startle. Shivering, you blinked and looked around your room, looking for whatever woke you up. The source found you, your home phone ringing out from somewhere in the apartment. You climbed out of your bed, rubbing at your arms and realizing you were still dressed in your dress from last night.

You frowned, then yawned as you shuffled into the living room, cursing at the 5:46 on the stove clock.

There was only one person who would call you at this time.

You sighed. "Claire."

"Good. You're awake."

"You woke me up."

"That's why I called your home phone. Just in case you were sleeping."

"You think I can't hear it ring?"

"How was last night?" Claire's voice was stark, as if it were the afternoon instead of before sunrise. She was effortless in that way. Maybe it was your fresh shitty night, but you weren't in the mood for it.

"Peachy."

"That sounds good," Her voice was sickly sweet. She went quiet and you knew she wanted you to fill in the blanks. You didn't have it in you, at least not right now. You were doing everything in your power not to think of those blue eyes frowning.

"Why are you calling me?"

"Right…" Her voice trailed to a distance. You heard a door close. Was she out? "There's been… a development. In what we talked about before." You blinked. Jill?

Your heart rate jumped. "Okay. Good or bad?"

"Good. Let's meet for lunch."

Your eyebrows pulled together. Claire was never free for lunch with her work, and your own lunch was too unpredictable for you to ever make it work. It clicked; she was speaking in code. Your heart didn't know if it should be anxious or hopeful.

She was being careful and you were relieved. She was being careful and you were worried about her.

"Where at?"

"You know that pizza place across from the town hall? There. Make sure it's right around our usual time. Okay?"

That one was a little harder to figure out. You had no idea what pizza place she was talking about. You also didn't know of this 'usual time' either. "Okay, sounds good."

"Great. See you then. Get some more rest."

Your hand fisted your dress. "Yeah."

"You okay?"

Your eyes found the shoes you had worn last night, strewn near the front door. "Peachy."

An hour later you were dressed and sitting on your couch, pulling at a loose thread from one of the throw pillows. You weren't sure what was stressing you out more: the reality of you and Claire having to take extra precaution like someone had their eyes on you, or that you weren't any close to figuring out the rest of her code talk.

Claire was definitely working, so you couldn't bother her to try and get more information.

Around 10:30, your problem was solved for you with a knock at your front door. Looking out the peephole, you uttered, "No fucking way," Before opening it to a teenage boy holding a pizza.

"A large cheese pizza," He slid the pizza out of its cover. The kid looked like he had a night just like you.

"Uh, give me a sec," You uttered, closing the door and finding your discarded purse, digging through it to grab your money. When you opened it and held out your hand he shook his hand in refusal.

"It's already covered."

You pursed your lips. Claire was thorough, you'd give her that.

"Your tip, then," You held it out.

"Thanks," Suddenly his face brightened with energy. As he handed it over, he said, "You know, I thought you were crazy to be ordering pizza this early."

You just stared at him. "Yeah."

"Have a nice day."

"You too," You said as you shut the door, taking it to your kitchen counter. You threw the box open and saw a greasy receipt plastered to the top of the inside. Ripping it off, you flipped it open to what would usually be the blank back.

2 PM.

Town hall. At 2 PM.

This seemed excessive, but you don't know if there was anyone else in the world who would go this far for you. Far with you.

You checked the time over the stove.

Soon, you would have your chance.

One step closer.

There was a pizza place down the block from the town hall, but it was closed down. You kept walking past, then found a place to hang out for the next thirty minutes. Around 1:55 PM, you made your way across the street and in front of the town hall. There were a lot more people than you anticipated, walking the streets and bustling in and around the building. This wouldn't be exactly private.

You weren't even sure what to say.

Once you had realized Jill was connected to Carlos, your mind had exploded with possibility. She had known him, she may have been one of the last people to see him and when faced with the opportunity, she could be a strong lead.

Then you thought of what it meant if she didn't have anything to say. What if she didn't know him personally? Or know any valuable piece of information? That thought was more devastating than you could fathom. So, instead of brainstorming, you just dove right in.

Heavy chatter and activity broke you out of your reverie and you stood up from your post.

From the main hall came an entire group of people, so dense in number you could hardly make anyone out. Your desperation built as you scanned the faces, wanting to curse as you realized she could be in there and you'd have no clue. You only had her ID photo to go off of from that file, after all, and you didn't exactly have a photographic memory.

You saw movement several feet away toward your right.

You turned and noticed just in time as separate double doors opened. The people exiting looked a lot more composed and of higher prestige. Conveniently, their meeting was ending at the same time this chaotic wave of people were heading out.

Your eyes widened as a woman walked out.

A bob, a suit, an overwhelming presence.

Jill Valentine.

She was heading across the main hall toward a separate door.

You followed along, several feet between you as you weaved between people. This was your chance, wasn't it? This would be your opportunity. It may be your only shot.

When you made it to the other side, the area was suddenly clear of people. It was a straight shot. You opened your mouth to grab her attention when movement from behind her caught your eye and someone's hand came down on your shoulder.

"You've got a gift for being in places you shouldn't be."You wanted to scream at the familiar lower voice. Not bothering for friendliness or formalities, you shifted an icy stare toward Chris, then to his hand. You didn't look away until he removed it. When you looked back at his face, you gritted your teeth at the knowing look blooming in his expression as his gaze flickered toward the direction Jill was headed. "Have someone to meet?"

Truthfully, you didn't know what to say. Anything you said or did, he would just sniff it out. He and Leon were similar in that way.

You couldn't lie, because it was just too obvious. You could just not say anything, but you had already drawn even more attention to you. All you could do was just try and alleviate the situation. "I just have a couple questions. That's all."

"An F.O.S agent on a rogue mission? Very interesting."

"A BSAA operator sticking his nose where it doesn't belong? How original."

Chris scoffed in amusement. "There's a reason I'm good at my job. Want to tell me why you were heading toward Valentine like a bull?"

"It's none of your concern."

All traces of amusement were stripped so fast, the room went cold. He took a step closer. You didn't waver, even though you thought of how his own standing was enough to get you fired and blacklisted if he so pleased. "She's a part of my team. Now you, who happen to be teaming up with Claire doing who knows what, want to talk with someone else that happens to matter to me. I'd suggest you try again on whether or not this is none of my concern."

You both studied each other for a few moments. Moments that, truthfully, were painful. You wished you had Claire's quick thinking.

"I know interrogating really gets you going, Redfield, but I'd prefer you don't drag my team into it."

You both turned your head at the same speed: you in shock and Chris in annoyance.

Leon, like a lion, had appeared so suddenly you were thrown for a complete loss. An innocent bystander unaware there were hunters circling.

You caught yourself just in time before asking what the hell he was doing when he shot you a look so precise and quick, you had to wonder if it was yet another projection you were putting on him. Alas, it wasn't when he slid into a smooth smile. "Why the third degree?"

"She's here with you?" If unbelieving had a face, Chris would be wearing it as he faced Leon.

Leon looked around with obvious attention. "She's my F.O.S. agent."

"She wasn't in the debriefing."

He nodded. "You know as well as I do that regardless of our position, sometimes we're not authorized to be present in certain places."

Chris scrutinized Leon so deeply, you held your breath. He wasn't fooled, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let it go- He turned to you. "I'll see you later, LUNA."

Not if you could help it.

You watched him go the way Jill had gone, disappearing behind the door she did. Your chance snuffed out just like that.

"I'm just as curious what you're doing staking this place out, too. I've never been fond of a Chris approach, though."

You didn't look at him, even though you knew he was looking at you. It hadn't even been twenty four hours since you last saw him. There wasn't enough time to recover, to compose yourself. You blocked all of that out. "Because your approach is so welcoming?" Or not.

Leon hummed, and your heart twisted when you saw his gaze move down and away. This was too much, you realized. One night and you saw a lot more behind those locked up eyes than you'd thought possible. "You don't have to tell me. Not until you're ready."

You turned toward him. Your movement made him look back up. The air knocked out of you when you both regarded each other. It was too soon. His words were still ringing in your ears. This easy, kind version of him was clashing with the stormy one from last night. "Leon, whatever you think I'm not ready to tell you, it doesn't exist. There's nothing for me to tell. And if there was, why do you think I'd eventually tell you?"

He shrugged. He let the silence fester between the two of you. A puzzle, a damn problem. He took a step toward the way Jill and Chris had gone. "That's for you to figure out. I hope you do. Now, I'd suggest you hang around until the meeting is over. Unless you don't care much for appearances and keeping Chris away. You may despise the thought of me around, but I can't imagine you're very fond of him involved, either. Up to you."

"So I wait for you?" You couldn't help but ask, mouth twisting at the thought.

He stopped walking. Didn't turn his head. Then continued on until he was gone behind the door as well. So he was being debriefed for the same mission Jill was? And had Claire just failed to realize her brother would be here as well? It must be a pretty damn serious mission for the three of them to be involved.

You waited. Well, you did at first.

The meeting dragged on for so long, you started to wonder if you looked suspicious hanging around town hall. Your thoughts were confirmed when you noticed the nearest security guard watching you.

With wounded pride, you just had to muster faith Leon would cover for you once again.

Heading back home, you thought of how you had let yourself be hopeful. Let yourself imagine this would be one thing that went smoothly for once, that you'd see Jill and get to speak with her. That she'd give you some massive clue and you'd be able to find Carlos.

Instead, both Chris and Leon were closer to your truth than you ever wanted.

When you reached the outside of your front door, keys in the lock, you could almost wonder if Jill had been a ghost.

The thought sent a chill through you.

If she were a ghost, what did that make Carlos? What did that make you, chasing ghosts?

As you unlocked your front door, you made a promise to yourself. Neither Chris nor Leon would get in the way of you speaking with Jill again. No one would.

Carlos was counting on you.

You couldn't let him down. Not again.

Notes:

it truly made my day seeing everyone's reactions and thoughts about the dinner. there is MUCH more to come with those two. love these two knuckleheads and the dinner was EVERYTHING. even I was eating popcorn on the sidelines haha.

guess who's back, back again, chris is back lol. he has perfect timing, doesn't he?

aaaanddddd first jill appearance! HECK YEAH!

-august

Chapter 17: close my eyes, fantasize (xvii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Explain. Now."

Claire blinked. "Hello to you too- Hey!" Her seething stare did nothing to deter Chris barreling into her apartment. Her irritation at his abrupt entrance became careful when he spun to face her. He was pissed.

Closing her door, she crossed her arms. "Explain what-"

"What LUNA is doing trying to talk to Jill."

"First, don't me off," Claire spit, hearing his thunderous steps follow her into the kitchen as she set a tea kettle to boil. "Secondly, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"So this is what we're doing now. You're lying to me."

"You're refusing to trust me."

"How can I trust you when you won't tell me the truth?" Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek, unable to withstand his influence. Anyone who knew the pair closely knew that Chris was her role model growing up. As they've gotten older, they may have started to shift their individual motivations . He was still Chris, though, and it was hard to lie to him.

The tea kettle started whistling, and she took the time facing away from him to collect herself. After a few moments of silence, she asked, "Tea?"

He didn't answer. When she raised her head and braced herself to face him, he said, "Don't tell me, then. But if you think I'm just going to let you get yourself killed, you're more naive than I thought. I already know enough. I'll figure out the rest."

Claire spun to see he was already gone from the kitchen. When she rushed into the living room, he was heading out the front door. She raced after him, seeing him head for his truck and pushing the door closed as he started to pull it open.

His eyes narrowed at the same time hers did.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He asked.

Claire breathed in, then out. Your radio silence in response to her reaching out meant one thing- your plans to meet Jill had failed.

She was running out of options. So she'd kill two birds with one stone: satisfy Chris' protective nature and succeed in landing you the chance to talk to Jill.

"LUNA lost someone that night in Raccoon City. Jill may have known them. She just wants closure." Not exactly the full truth, but enough. Chris studied Claire's open expression. She took extra measure to ensure her breaths were even.

"How would Jill have known them?"

Claire shrugged. "It's not for certain. Jill met people that night. Helped people. The person LUNA lost may have been one of them. That's why she wants to talk with Jill and that's all."

The silence was overbearing. Claire resisted the urge to fill it, knowing Chris would catch onto her nervousness.

Chris nodded. Then, "Why did LUNA try to join our program, and why is she now an F.O.S agent?"

"For that person. To honor them. She's unfortunately yet another person fucked over by the aftermath of Umbrella's corruption."

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "And there's nothing else? She's not trying to do anything else?"

Claire shook her head. "There's nothing else."

She gives an inch…

He nodded again. "Okay. I can help. With her meeting Jill, I mean."

The excitement that flooded her was ripped from her in an instant. She shook her head because she knew what him helping meant. "No. She'll be upset you're getting involved."

"Shocker," He looked off to the side in thought. Then muttered, "We'll make it so that it's not 'me' that set it up, it's you."

"What are you setting up exactly?" Claire studied him, not liking where this was going. He was already taking the reins and she didn't like it.

Chris pulled open his truck door and then looked at her. "A chat, of course."

Claire deadpanned, "Let me guess-"

"You guessed right. I'm going to be there, too. Just to, you know, keep an eye on things."

"What, you don't trust Jill with us? What do you think she is, a damn traitor?"

At this point, Chris was already in his truck and starting the ignition. Hand resting out the window, he lazily dragged his eyes back to her. He was already done with the conversation. He said, "More like I don't trust you both with her. Maybe it's because, I don't know, I've known you your whole life, but something tells me you're not telling me everything. No hard feelings. I'll let you know when Jill is free."

Before she could even respond, he drove off.

And Claire watched him go, holding up a middle finger to his truck.

For once, you gave yourself a little forgiveness to just take a moment. Yesterday was a disappointment, not getting to speak with Jill. You had spent the rest of the day relaxing. You had ordered in, had put on a channel that was playing an entire movie series back to back. You mostly slept.

You gave yourself that time. You didn't want to think about Leon. You didn't want to think about Jill. Instead of feeling guilt, you let yourself succumb to your tiredness.

The following morning on the way to work, it started to feel like it didn't make much of a difference. You were nauseous, palms growing more sweaty the closer you got to work. On top of that, you now felt unprepared for seeing Leon and regretted not thinking everything through.

You had really fucked up, hadn't you?

Holding back a laugh, you supposed it wasn't much different from how the last five years had gone.

When you stepped out of the elevator, you straightened your shoulders. There was much to be done, you didn't need to concern yourself with any of your nerves.

As you headed straight for your desk, you spotted Ingrid engrossed in whatever work she was doing. You had to suppress a sigh of relief. Looked like you would have some extra time to avoid yet another person who was probably curious about that dinner.

The first couple of hours, you were able to focus on work. No one, aside from Agent Archer, spoke to you. You welcomed it, refusing to let yourself get swept away from the chaos of the weekend. This routine, somehow, had become a comfort.

In the early afternoon, the most excitement you got was everyone complaining the coffee machine was broken.

When it was time to leave work, you realized you had gone the day waiting for the shoe to drop and instead had the time to yourself.

Why weren't you as relieved as you thought?

Once you'd wrapped up at your desk, you paused right before passing Ingrid's. She was completely focused on her monitors, typing away with her earpiece in. You hadn't been here long but you knew she was the most capable out of everyone.

As if she sensed you, she looked over in your direction. With wide eyes, you whispered, "Do you need anything?"

She mouthed, "Coffee," before shaking her head in disappointment. Even working all day, she had picked up on the low morale caused by the lack of a functioning coffee maker.

You squeezed her shoulder as you walked past, pausing when you saw Leon exit the elevator down the hall and turn toward his office. You hated it. You hated how your heart had jumped at the sight of him.

This was not good.

"He's going to be the death of me."

You looked over your shoulder just in time to see Ingrid tapping her fingers impatiently on her desk.

"Who?" You asked, her words ringing true for your current situation as well.

"Who else? Agent James." Ah, the famous reckless one. No F.O.S agent wanted to work with him, and the only one truly able to manage it was the woman in front of you. You admired her for that. You'd heard nothing positive about the experience. "Every time I work with him, it makes me think of Agent Rodriguez. She was the ideal agent to be partnered with."

So that's why she could barely spare you a word today. She definitely had her hands full. You watched her. She was already sucked back into her tasks. If you looked a little more closely, you wondered if you imagined the sad shadow that had taken over her face. Agent Rodriguez was someone you hadn't heard of… It only meant one of two things.

Gripping your bag, you realized then just how much you wished you were a little more like her. Capable. Level-headed. Strategic. Despite what she must've faced in this role, whether it was difficult men like James or tough losses like Rodriguez, she didn't waver. If Carlos was her brother- stop.

You swiftly turned your back to her.

That's no way to think. You couldn't waver. Being surrounded by capable people only meant you needed to keep up or surpass them. You could learn from them. What you once lacked may be sharpened now.

Before completely walking away, you turned to look at her again.

She was good. Maybe you weren't, but you could try to find the pieces of you that used to be okay with sharing your heart.

It wasn't too late. You were sure the cafe down the street was still open. On the way out, you counted three others still at their desks.

Wrapped up in your thoughts, you had just clicked the elevator button when movement grabbed your attention from the right. You looked over to see Leon in the middle of a conversation with someone you didn't recognize. Even from this distance, you saw the bags under his eyes. Just as the elevator opened, you saw his head begin to turn away from the person he was talking to and turn toward you, so you looked away and stepped inside.

Clicking the ground floor, then the close door button, you sucked in a breath as soon as the doors closed. You weren't even sure if he was about to come this way but you couldn't risk it.

You rubbed your eyes. You really had fucked up.

The anger that had stolen your appetite that night was nowhere to be found. You were just stuck in shame and, you hated to admit it, regret for the things you'd said. Maybe you believed them at the time, but weren't you just judging him based on one thing?

You raised your head. No, you had to stop doubting yourself. If Leon wanted to be a friend like he seemed to, he wouldn't have acted so indifferent. He showed up late, he barely talked, and then he said you didn't belong.

You did belong.

Why was it so hard for you to stop picturing his wince? Or his frown? Why didn't it sit well with you at the thought you had wounded him?

You pushed it out. This was why you shouldn't have avoided thinking about everything all weekend.

You did a good job of it, of pushing it all out. That was, until you were about to order coffee for Ingrid and everyone else still at the office. You were just planning to get four coffees. Just four. You only needed to get four.

You weren't surprised at yourself when you ordered five.

As you made your way back to the office, you took the opportunity to reflect.

It wasn't a peace offering. It wasn't even an invitation of friendship. You just knew you couldn't go on avoiding him or letting the dinner affect you. You had to figure out a way to move past it.

You went to the office area first. Before you could approach Ingrid, the others must've been desperate with the way they instantly noticed what you had in your hands. They perked up then quickly surrounded you.

After a chorus of questions asking if you had seriously brought them coffee came their gratitude and their over-the-top compliments. As soon as they moved away, Ingrid was spun around in her chair withholding a smile. "Vultures."

"I was trying to give you first dibs," You said as you handed her the one in your hand. "I made sure to get something you liked."

She cupped it in her hand, looking down at it with an indecipherable look on her face.

"Was I wrong?" You half-joked.

Ingrid just shook her head. "No, it's… it's great. Thank you."

"You okay?"

"Yeah-Yes." She took a deep breath. Then her face changed and she was her usual self. "Now get out of here before you get roped into another mission somehow."

You laughed and then retreated. The more often you chose to retreat the more you started to despise yourself a little more. Were you… a fraud?

Gripping the last cup tightly, you took your time walking down the hall. Turning the corner. Heading toward Leon's office. You had already considered asking Ingrid to give it to him instead but in the next second you knew that was childish. You had to face him eventually.

Standing in front of his door, you were struck with one last desperate urge to flee. You could just drink the coffee yourself. You didn't have to do all this. Don't forget what he said- what you said. He's not your friend-

You knocked twice on the door. Waited a few beats. Knocked again.

Silence.

Huh. Maybe he left after you did?

You turned the handle, unsure if it would be locked. It wasn't, and you froze when the door was barely open and you saw him sitting at his desk. You had no clue what you were going to say walking into this so you were unsure why your mouth was opening- until that froze as well.

He was leaning his arm on one of the arm rests, supporting his head with his fist. His eyes were closed, face relaxed. Breaths even.

Leon was asleep.

You threw a glance back, weighing your options. If he wasn't still here, you would've just taken the coffee. From the looks of it, he had no intentions of going home any time soon. Why do you care?

You stepped closer, attempting to keep your steps quiet. You didn't want to wake him, you would just leave the coffee for him and not say a word. It was even better than you initially wanted, because you could just avoid talking to him altogether.

As you reached across to put it down, you paused when you looked at him.

Even though his door was open, it was quiet. Usually there would be voices no matter where you went or the sounds of people walking around. The AC wasn't quiet. Even the printer had a usual soundtrack.

Right now, as he slept, it was quiet.

As if the office knew.

His eyelashes were long, his eyes fluttering. Like this, he wasn't stern or even clever like he tended to be.

He looked almost…

You set the cup down and straightened up. Admiring him was definitely not a part of your plans and you had no intention of starting now.

There had been plenty of men you had considered attractive in your lifetime. Leon was one of them. Your old friends? They had found you pretentious when you didn't really lose it over those very men. All you could say when they asked why you didn't like them was So what? Or What else?

Looks were only the surface level.

So Leon being the office Adonis? Sure. What else?

You already knew what else. You thought you did, but then Friday night happened…

You weren't sure anymore, and you couldn't afford to spend any more time sulking about it.

With your back turned, you thought of him in the rain as you uttered, "Now we're even."

You let out the breath you were holding as soon as you closed the door.

Pleased, you headed down the hall, glancing back at his door in slight disbelief.

For a prodigy and special agent, he sure lacked a survival instinct if you could just sneak in like that.

He wasn't sleeping.

Needing time to just be.

Since that night, that dreaded fucking night, he hadn't been able to get his mind to settle down. His body was hurting and he had his thoughts split between the Department's mission and the mission they pulled him into with the BSAA. Despite that, he couldn't stop thinking about his monstrosity of a dinner with you.

He wasn't in tune with his emotions, not like he used to be.

What he knew he could always count on was his honesty with himself.

Leon had absolutely fucked up the dinner. It wasn't his intention and yet he still had like it was as easy as blinking . He wasn't used to this- to caring about how things go or how he carries himself. He didn't remember the last time it bothered him that he'd let someone down.

For as long as he could manage to remember, all that he'd been and all that he'd cared about was his work.

He was a prop, that was true. He was a spectacle, too.

He just didn't know when that was all he'd become.

It was when he was letting himself be, offering himself momentary reprieve from the racetrack of his mind, that you'd knocked on the door.

Leon had known it was you. He had heard the others celebrating about the coffee, how they showered you with gratitude. He wasn't as full as himself to think you'd brought him one, but from your knocks he had known.

They were unsure and they were quiet, as if you half regretted what you were doing. He deserved that.

Then he thought about his eyes were closed. Before he had gotten the chance to ready himself, you had stepped inside.

You had surprised him there.

Most people either barged in or were in the middle of knocking as they came in. You had given him the time.

Now? He wanted to give you the time too.

He knew he wanted to help you with whatever it was you were doing here. At first, it was wariness. After seeing just how much it mattered to you, his stance easily flipped. Whatever it was, he wanted to make it evident you could rely on him. As you stepped inside and walked closer to the desk, he kept his eyes closed.

Leon thought of how you didn't really want to look at him yesterday when he'd stepped in between you and Chris' conversation. It was still hard for you after the dinner. He could see that. He didn't want to make it worse.

So he kept his eyes closed.

For a moment, he questioned if you'd had professional training and somehow had left without him hearing. There was a pause. You were still there. He wondered what you were thinking.

He listened as you uttered, "Now we're even." Even? What had he done?

The sound of the cup hitting his desk grabbed his attention, your retreat following.

He waited for the door to close and then opened his eyes.

Leon picked up the cup and twisted it around. It was all black. That was fine. You seemed the type to not just assume someone's order.

The coffee was still warm.

He took another sip. His eyes trailed to the closed door.

Somehow, it was warmer.

Notes:

fun fact: the coffee scene was one of the first scenes i created for this fic! it came out a lot sweeter than it was initially. it was supposed to be completely different 3

mc REALLY has a lot of conflicting thoughts and emotions. if you're wondering, it IS intentional. she's so complicated but i do love her for it. but yeah, she can't even decide if she should allow herself to care about leon lol

finally a little insight on how leon feels about how the dinner went; he blames himself (,:

what did you think of the ending? 😢 oh leon...

- august

Chapter 18: stop before it's too late (xviii)

Notes:

it's a good time for me to remind you this is a resident evil story. there will be horror and violence. we've spent some good time with these characters, and as much as i care about them, it will very much be a part of their story, as well. let's begin.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

You were cooking dinner when the home phone rang.

The first thing Claire said was, "There's a nasty storm hitting there tonight. Did you hear?"

"I did not, but thanks for the heads up," You said, though you didn't go out all that much to be concerned with the weather. You looked to the windows and saw that the early evening was darkening quicker than usual, as if to further prove Claire's warning. "I would've told you to stay off your bike if you were here."

Luckily for you, you didn't have to worry about her and her bikes when she was out of town for work. Although you hadn't been exactly keen on speaking with her the last few days in fear of her asking about Leon. Not to mention, telling her you had failed to talk to Jill…

"Noted for next time," She paused when she started chewing on the other end. Then, "I'm glad I've finally reached you. I have an update."

You stopped stirring the food, straightening your head as you grabbed the phone and moved it to your other ear. "You do? Well, I do, too."

"Okay… you go first."

"How do you have an update if I haven't even talked to you in the last few days? I haven't even told you what happened the other day with-"

"Yes, I know, but I suspected it didn't go well since you were avoiding me."

"Fair."

"Yeah." There was a pause. You wondered if you were overthinking, since it sounded like she was frustrated. When she spoke again, she sounded normal. "Well, tell me."

"Oh, you know, just my usual problems. You know Chris right?"

"I think I've heard the name," She played along.

"What about Leon?"

"Wait, Leon too?!" The joke ended before it began.

"Yup. I didn't even get within arm's distance of her before I was swarmed. Vultures," When you uttered the last word, Ingrid's face popped into your head and you smiled. It faded when you realized you had failed yet again to make any sort of difference. "Maybe it's just me?"

Claire sighed. "You really think it's you? When those two suffocate an entire room when they're in the presence of each other?"

You raised your eyebrows. "So they know each other like that?"

"Well, they're both renowned in the field. They cross paths more than they both probably care to. It's actually pretty funny."

"It was hilarious having to get them both off my case. I actually made it worse. Chris isn't going to let it go. Leon covered for me, but he's definitely wondering."

"Are you and Leon good?"

Her question caught you so off guard, your hand froze and you went silent. She must've sensed something off when you had mentioned him. She talks of Chris and Leon's instincts, but she was a hunter too.

"As well as could be."

"Convincing."

"Claire. We're getting off topic. You said you have an update."

"Right." As if Claire had somehow timed it, thunder and lightning went off outside, startling you. The smell of your dinner burning made your attention revert back to the task at hand. She said, "I'm going to have Jill over. Next week."

"What?" You gasped. Just like that?

"I snuck into Chris' phone. Shit is so locked down, I had to distract him and make him forget his phone for a few hours," She had rushed the words out, which was a little strange, but you didn't think anything of it. "Anyways, once I figured it out I was able to get her number. I reached out to her. She's out of the country until next week, but she's going to come over. I'll be back by then, too"

"I-what?" You were at a loss. Once again, Claire was your savior. "Really?"

"Yup. It should've been what we did in the first place."

"Trial and error right?" You smiled, but it was twitching off your lips as you tried to compose yourself. You quietly stirred the food as you whispered, "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"Let's not jump ahead, yet. We should prepare for, well, if Jill doesn't have anything to tell us. But don't worry, I didn't forget you're my groupie."

"Shut up."

"Never."

You walked to your room to grab your water bottle, her attention diverting as she told you about work. You listened, always willing to hear her. She may not know it, but you weren't sure where you'd be if you never met her. You honestly believed you certainly wouldn't be here.

When you stepped into your room, you stopped listening to Claire.

In the dim lighting, storm in full swing outside, something was off.

You scanned the room, unsure why you were uneasy. Heartbeat loud in your ears, you finally chalked it up to your paranoia, unable to spot anything that was causing you to be on edge. You shook it off, responding to Claire as you went back to the kitchen.

It was only after you had hung up with Claire and had just taken your first bite of dinner before your stomach dropped. You slowly looked over your shoulder and to your bedroom. Put your plate down on the coffee table. Stood and walked toward the room. At the threshold, your chest was rising and falling rapidly.

You peeked your head in and toward your desk.

Your photo of Carlos on your bulletin board was missing.

Without stepping inside the room, your gaze bounced around the room. Nothing else was out of the ordinary. You stepped inside, feet heavy as you stared from a distance away. There was no doubt, it was gone. There was a blank space where the photo usually resided on the board, and you couldn't imagine it had fallen off.

You walked over to the desk, glancing all around you as your hands came up to the blank space. Then you searched the top of your desk. Your hands moved quickly, sweeping and quick like the rain outside.

You knelt down, checking beneath your desk, moving everything out of the way. It wasn't here.

When you stood up, your mind exploded into overdrive.

Call the cops. Call Claire.

It was a photo, the cops would find you paranoid.

Was someone in here?

You couldn't get a deep breath in. You were trying to think but it felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of you. You walked over to the bed, kneeling down and pulling the bat you kept underneath it out.

The phone was in the kitchen. You could check out the place yourself.

You stood at the threshold, now facing the rest of your apartment. The only sounds were the storm raging. The light was on in the kitchen, casting a somber glow.

You moved, bat raised and alert. The living room was empty. So was the dining area. The bathroom door had been open like always as you walked past. There were only so many places someone could obviously hide, right?

Mouth dry, your hand shakily found the phone as you flipped it over and stared at the numbers. Who do you call? What was Claire's number again? Should you call the cops?

It's a photo. They won't care. They won't understand.

You must've just misplaced it. Or it fell and you just didn't see it. Go check again. Your fingers started dialing, knowing the knot in your stomach was a warning. As you turned around, your hold on the bat slipped slightly before you gripped it tight.

Number unfinished in the phone, the dial tone started going off as you stared at the refrigerator.

There, with a magnet holding it up, was the photo.

You pulled it off, sweaty fingerprints leaving a mark as your hand shakily held it. You weren't sure why, but you flipped it over.

It should just say Carlos Oliveira, 1995.

That's all it should say.

You went cold.

Most of the letters of his name were blacked out except for LIVE. Beneath it, was scrawled

LET GO. OR LOSE.

You stared at the words.

Kept staring.

The words were still there as you grabbed your bag and ran out the apartment.

Your bare feet hitting the rain made you snap into your surroundings. You jumped back, standing beneath a covering at a nearby table. Digging into your purse, you almost dropped your phone twice before you hit the second programmed number.

"Hey! What's up? Miss me already?"

You weren't sure what you said. You weren't even sure if you had called her. Were you retaining anything?

You blinked. You weren't sure how much time had passed. The phone was silent on your ear. Had you called someone?

Someone walked by and you tensed. They eyed you strangely and quickened their pace, widening the space between you as they walked toward the parking lot. You realized your bat was hanging from your right hand. Your purse was at your feet.

You were shivering.

Then you looked up and Leon was in the rain again.

You squinted at him as he came to you. His hair was soaked. So were his clothes. Oh, he was saying something. His hands were hovering over your arms, not touching you.

Suddenly, you were flooded with sound.

The rain was an orchestra, beating down on the parking lot covers, the complex behind you, the sidewalk, you. It seemed you had tried to avoid being soaked as you stood beneath a small table but had failed. With the severity of the storm, it hadn't done much.

"Just breathe. Deep breaths. There you go."

"Leon?" You asked. He was here? He was here! There was a clattering sound. You had dropped the bat. He didn't look away from you. Your hands were suddenly gripping his arms. "Leon, someone was here."

"I know. Are you okay?"

"I- They were inside. They were there."

"Hey," Leon's voice was so soft, it was a wonder you could hear him. Then you were leaning forward, your forehead resting on his chest. His hand was a gentle pressure on your upper back. Other than that, you were clinging onto him as he stood there. You gripped his shirt tighter, the thought of going up to your apartment sending chills down your spine.

"Leon, someone was inside."

His other hand pressed you closer. Although it was freezing and both of you were soaked, he was an anchor. You felt his slightly racing heartbeat beneath your hand. Was he scared too? Still, it was slower than yours. You focused on taking deep breaths. You had calmed your own heart around the same time the rain slowed.

You pulled away. Looking up at him, you asked, "How did you know…?" Claire.

"Claire called me. She… she was a mess. I came immediately."

Your eyes slid away. You were still seeing the words. "I didn't call the cops. I just thought… they would think I'm being ridiculous."

"You're not ridiculous." His voice was so serious, so sincere, your eyes flooded as your body started to relax.

You collapsed at the table.

He kneeled in front of you. The rain was coming down, but his hair wasn't in his face. He must've pushed it away. "Will you tell me which apartment is yours?"

Your hand flew out and then you brought it down into your lap. "You're not going in there, are you?"

"I need- Is it okay if I check it out for you?"

You shook your head, trying to find the words. What if someone was still in there-

"LUNA. LUNA, look at me." You couldn't focus. You saw the blank space above your desk. Then Carlos' unsmiling face. LIVE. When your eyes found Leon's, there weren't shutters to shut you out. His steadiness sent air shooting into your lungs. You breathed in deeply. His hand was lightly touching your knee and you focused on the blue of his eyes. Cataloging it. Settling yourself. "I'll be safe. I'd like to check."

"I can't go back in there," You whispered. You didn't say a word as he pulled his knife out and held the handle toward you.

"You can stay here. I'll check it out and come right back."

"You have to be careful, I-"

"I will be. Now, you call out to me if you need anything. Okay?" You nodded and he waited until you held the knife. He stood up and you told him your apartment number. You watched him set off in a determined stride for as long as you could before your eyes scanned your surroundings.

Even though he wasn't far, his absence sent that paralysis of fear stiffening your limbs.

The minutes he was gone felt like hours. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him walking toward you. He had his phone at his ear, and he finished up talking just as he reached you.

"How… how was it?"

"Nothing was out of the ordinary."

You already knew and yet you had to close your eyes.

"Come on. Let's get you out of here."

"What?"

"If that's what you want. But I don't think you should be alone, especially here. We're going to figure this out. First, let's get you dried off and something to eat."

You were starting to realize the seriousness of the situation. Someone had been in and there were no signs of forced entry. It was about Carlos, they were trying to scare you off. And-

"If you'd like, I can grab you some clothes."

"No. I… I can do it. Will you come with me?"

He nodded, and when you didn't move, he took the lead. He opened the door. He stepped inside. He waited. When you stepped in, everything was quiet. The storm wasn't raging. Nothing was amiss.

You were able to breathe with Leon sticking close.

You avoided looking at the bulletin board as you pulled out a bag, packing a couple of items of clothing. As you finished up, you muttered, "There's towels… in the hall closet. We can dry off a little."

When he looked at you, you nodded. "I'll be okay."

He was gone for a few seconds and then reappeared, wordlessly holding out a towel. Instead of pushing away the memory of him holding out his umbrella, you latched onto it.

"Shit," You muttered and his head whipped toward you as he ruffled his hair with the towel, "I should call Claire."

"I called her already. I let her know what was going on."

"I must've worried her sick. I just," You kept telling yourself to focus on breathing, "I didn't know who to call. I shouldn't rely on her so much."

"Hey," You looked over at him after he called out to you, "Don't feel bad. It's good to have that. I'm glad you called her."

As you zipped up your bag, you resisted the urge to look at your bulletin board. Staring down at your bag, you didn't have any energy to filter your words. "I'm glad you came. Thank you."

When you shouldered your bag, you joined him at the bedroom door. He was still wet from the rain, but he looked a little more like his usual self. Almost as if he'd come out of the shower instead.

"You ready?"

You nodded, gripping the strap of your bag tightly.

He came to a stop between the living room and kitchen, looking at you. You walked into the kitchen, finding the photo where you'd dropped it on the counter. You packed it away, then went to your couch to put on your socks and shoes. You were already feeling warmer.

When you stood, your eyes trailed down to the box near your front door. "Right."

Leon silently watched as you went over to it. "This is yours." You pulled out the black umbrella.

He stared at it, no familiarity or any reaction on his face. Then, the slightest spark.

You were still holding it in between the two of you. He pushed it gently back toward you.

"I figured you had forgotten it was me."

His eyebrows jumped up for a moment. "There was this vague feeling I had seen you before, but I didn't realize. It's yours, anyway."

You would usually argue, but your eyes were heavy and so was your mind. You lowered your hand and whispered, "I'm ready."

Without hesitation, he held the front door open for you and you stepped out, the weight on your lungs lifting the further you got from your apartment. Your sanctuary, punctured just like that.

It was barely sprinkling now.

Still, you held the umbrella over your heads. When Leon tried to say he was fine, you only stepped closer.

You didn't say much after that, and you silently thanked him for not saying much either.

Because this moment may have been the worst you've ever missed Carlos. It was taking every ounce of your energy to focus on not breaking down like a little kid. You needed him. You were lost.

You couldn't remember anymore the last time you felt secure or truly safe.

As the car started up, the heater blaring, the music playing, you watched Leon's hands as he adjusted the heat.

You were lost, but maybe you weren't so alone.

You focused on the heat. Taking deep breaths. And the song playing low through the speakers.

Notes:

i kind of drew from some personal experience in this one. situations like this are terrifying, and i haven't written about something much like this, so hopefully i wrote it well and sensitively.

- august

Chapter 19: i can feel you fade away (xix)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There was a song playing, a well known 60s band. You were forgetting the name of the song, but you were half listening to it anyway.

You weren't hungry. Still, you picked up a fry one by one.

Leon tried not to watch you, but every once in a while he would flick his gaze up to look at you. You appreciated that he didn't talk, or didn't prompt you. He gave you the time.

When you were finished, you pushed your plate away.

He had finished his burger and fries, so he looked over at you when he heard your plate sliding.

"I'll get a box," He said, then slid out of the booth. You vaguely registered his hand holding his side for a moment as he got to his feet before he dropped it.

Your gaze kept jumping to the window facing outside, heartbeat picking up whenever you saw someone out there. As if they'd followed you here. Has someone been following you all this time? What if they were here now?

Slumping in the booth, you coughed a bit, throat dry. You slid your untouched water over and took a sip. Your eyes trailed down to your bag. You dug through it, hand eventually knocking into your cell phone.

Flipping it open, you stared at the couple of missed calls from Claire. Clicked open the texts and saw she had told you to call her when you could.

You looked over at Leon standing there. Shoulders broad, formidable, impenetrable. Fearless.

You swallowed. Clicked the call button.

She picked up on the first ring.

"I'm with Leon," You said, then blinked hard. She knew that. It was hard to focus, right now. "We're eating."

"You're safe," Claire said.

"Yeah," The word came out too weakly.

"I tried to see if I could come back early. But my boss… they need me out here," Claire whispered, and you hated how sad she sounded. Her job was important.

You said so. You also said, "I'll be okay."

"You're not staying there anymore. You're moving in with me."

"Claire," You shook your head, "You've done everything for me, I'm not-"

"You're not arguing about this. Where else are you going to go? I know Leon's helping right now, but as soon as I'm back, you can stay with me. Just… Just please. You're my friend. Stop feeling like you're burdening me. I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to. You can stay with me until you find another place."

Leon was coming.

"I gotta go," You said, unable to argue let alone think.

"Call me again as soon as you can."

"Okay." As soon as you flipped it closed you nodded at Leon's hands, "Really?"

"It's not for me," Leon sat down and slid the milkshake across the table.

You stared at it. Didn't say anything. You cupped the glass.

You weren't sure what to make of this, of this unusual change of events regarding Leon. Despite your convictions about him- more like your turmoil over him- he had shown up for you. You hadn't even asked, and you probably wouldn't have, and he still came.

As you brought the straw to your lips, you paused and looked at it. "It's yellow. Banana?"

Leon shook his head, "It's a milkshake special. Apparently they like to experiment. It's gumball."

If it's gumball, why was it yellow?

He sounded like a spokesperson. You blankly stared at him before turning your attention back to the shake and trying it- Your face twisted up as you rushed to your water and washed it down. "Wow," You coughed out.

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Come on."

"Leon," You blinked, realizing you weren't that far from the counter. You leaned forward and whispered, "It's really bad." He was unconvinced and you stressed, "Seriously. Try it if you think I'm lying."

"I believe you, I just think maybe you're stretching it a little."

You pushed it toward him. "Let's see it, then."

He scoffed softly before picking it up and taking a regular drink, no care or worry in the world. He lowered the cup, smacked his lips a little, took another sip, mulled over it before he blinked and looked back up at you. "This is awful."

Your lips twitched.

He pointed a finger at it, "How do you mess up a milkshake?"

Your hand came up to cover your mouth before you wiped a hand over your face. This guy.

Right when you met his gaze, you thought you caught something warm in his expression before he picked up the milkshake and started drinking from it again.

"What are you doing?" You sat back, not much energy to do anything except for watch.

He paused, saying, "I'm not letting it go to waste. Even if it's shit."

"Noble."

"Necessary sacrifice," He sighed as he forgoed the straw and started drinking it from the glass.

You just shook your head. Just like that, you were able to forget about your sickening fear that stole your security, your appetite, and energy. For just a moment, you had almost smiled. All because of Leon.

Eyes trailing back outside, you thought of the photo burning in your bag beside you. LIVE. LET GO. OR LOSE.

Who knew about Carlos? What had happened to him? And why were they keen on keeping you away?

As Leon scraped at the bottom of the glass, his voice went serious. "I talked to Hunnigan. She's arranged a hotel room for you." Your eyes snapped toward him but he didn't look at you while he was focused on draining the milkshake of its disgusting glory. He continued, "She doesn't know it's for you. I figured you wouldn't want anyone to know. And it's better if less people do, anyway."

"Wait," You sighed. Because how was this fair? Weren't you inconveniencing everyone with your problems, now? Claire, talking about you staying with her. Leon running to help, then Ingrid arranging a room for you. It was too much-

"I figured you wouldn't want to stay with me. I wanted you to feel comfortable." Your attention focused and you realized he was staring deeply at you. He was serious.

He had just calmed you down, helped you, even made you feel safe.

You said, "You don't make me feel uncomfortable."

Leon searched your eyes, and then nodded once. "All the same, I want you to be away from your place for a while. If that's what you want. But someone broke in and didn't take anything. That means all they care about is you."

You knew he was leaving you an opening. He was giving you the opportunity to confide in him. The way he was sitting, blue and shadowed eyes gazing at you patiently, your heart ached.

You couldn't.

You ran a hand over your mouth before shaking your head. "You're right. Thank you. Claire will be back in a few days. I'll be staying with her until… well, I'll figure it out."

"Okay," He nodded along, "That's good. Are you ready?" He nodded at your plate. You quickly packed up your food as he held a hand up for an employee. As he paid the bill, your eyes went down to your bag. Every time you looked at it, your stomach sank further down.

What happened, Carlos?

Who knows you? Who doesn't want me to find you?

Then you were in Leon's car again. It was warm, the music was a little louder. You let your head lean back.

At some point, right after the light changed green, Leon's voice trickled over to you. "I have a flight tonight. Mission in Dallas. I'll be gone, but Hunnigan will be on call and available. I know you have work and your life, but if you need anything at all-"

"Thanks."

In your peripheral vision, you saw he glanced at you.

"Seriously," You closed your eyes. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," He continued on, "You can call Hunnigan at any time. Or even Archer. Call anyone at the office if anything comes up. Even the cops. The hotel's secure, as well. If no one else, you can…" You had been listening. You were trying hard to focus. Yet, his voice was gentle, lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

An abrupt silence had your eyes flying open and hands shooting out. Settling your hands on the dashboard, you looked around, registering Leon turned toward you. He asked, "You okay?"

You nodded as your body sagged, tilting forward as you inhaled a deep breath. "Yeah."

"Take your time. This is it," He nodded and you looked up to the wide and brightly lit building. It was modern and loud, which you appreciated. You weren't sure you could get out of the car if it looked more like a haunted hotel.

You pushed open the door, grabbing your bag and shouldering it. Leon joined you, both of you staring ahead.

He handled getting the hotel keys, talking with the front desk. Every few moments, you couldn't help but look over your shoulder. Look outside. No one was in the lobby.

When you entered the elevator, no one else joined you. You made sure to look out until the very last moment and see if anyone entered the lobby. No one did.

Once the doors closed and the elevator began to climb, you realized Leon had clicked three different floor buttons. When you looked over at him leaning on the wall, hands leaning on the bar on the wall, he didn't explain. His eyes weren't even open.

You noted the dark shadows under his eyes.

You looked away.

This life he lived… He was unfazed and he was fearless because he likely had no other choice.

The image of someone you didn't know in your apartment had you gripping your bag tighter.

"Here," Leon said when the elevator stopped on the seventh floor, which was the second stop on the ride. He let you get off first, and then you followed him down the hall. When he unlocked the door, your feet wouldn't move.

Come on, you hissed in your head. Don't be an idiot. Don't-

"Hey. It's okay, I understand," His hand was the slightest pressure on your shoulder before he let go and stepped inside. You watched at the threshold as he surveyed the room. He checked the bathroom, the closet. He even kneeled and checked under the bed.

You watched him there, in the sickly lamp light. He was obviously tired, and he moved stiffly, like he was hurt. In that dim light, you were sickened with a new realization. You were wrong. The government used him as the weapon he was, but in this sickly yellow light, in that bright diner light, and in that gray sky light outside your apartment? He wasn't a weapon. He was an angel.

You wanted to apologize. You were so painfully wrong, weren't you?

When he straightened and approached you, you let your eyes lower.

You had treated him like shit the other day and he had shown up for you. Maybe that just made him a decent person, but prior to the dinner, he had shown you nothing but kindness.

You truly were cynical, weren't you?

When you looked back up at him, you silently vowed to not forget his kindness. Maybe you had already told him you weren't friends, and you certainly didn't deserve his friendship, but you would give him yours.

"I've got to go." He didn't move. It was almost like you from moments before, like his feet wouldn't move. You spotted the slightest tenseness of his jaw before he schooled his expression. He cleared his throat, nodded at you. "Remember what I said?"

You nodded. At the deep frown he gave you, you forced yourself to say, "Yes. It's going to be okay. Seriously. I'll be fine. I can handle myself."

Your tone wasn't biting like it was that night of the dinner or wavering like outside your apartment. It was steady. He helped give you the space to somehow search for that.

Finally, Leon nodded and went to maneuver around you. You stepped out of the way, both of you turning to watch each other as he made his way past. He paused at the door and you came with him, holding back a wince at the quickening of your heartbeat with his departure. He was leaving. You were going to be alone. Again.

He looked as if he wanted to say more. The moment passed, and he nodded at you with his hand on the door. "I'll see you soon."

You nodded.

Then he was gone.

You stared at the door, the growing silence swallowing you up and making you sweat. You rushed to the door, locking it and putting the chain in. Stepping back, you stared at it. It wasn't enough. Stepping closer, you decided you'd then you'd check out the peephole. Just to give yourself a peace of mind. You'd check just this once and then go to bed.

Closing one eye, you peered through.

Leon was outside, facing away from the door as if he had paused right before he left. Your speeding heart settled at the sight of him.

You were okay. You would be okay.

You had come this far, and you wouldn't back down.

Fear was only a paralyzer, and it wasn't enough to keep you from Carlos.

With your hand on the door, you watched him leave before taking your own step back.

The clock showed it was early evening. Too early. You weren't tired.

Still, you changed into comfortable clothes. The thought of a shower only started making you breathe faster.

Your eyes were trained on the door when you found yourself at the edge of the bed. Your mind was cruel, picturing over and over different scenarios of someone busting it down or knocking. Or-

You were pushing the couch across the room. It was heavier than it looked.

You pushed it as firmly as you could into the door.

When you stepped back, the rocks shoved into your lungs slowly dissolved. They weren't completely gone, but you were finally able to climb into the bed.

You turned the tv on, listened to the reality show with your face turned away.

You fell asleep like that, listening to their trivial problems, their drama, and wishing you could call Carlos like you used to when you were young and scared. Now you were just alone and afraid, and wondering if this was always how it was going to be.

Notes:

i just wanted to give you all a heads up, because you definitely deserve it for going on this journey with me. i'll be going on a trip after tomorrow, so chapter 20 will be the last chapter for around a week. It may be a little longer, but you should hear from me next weekend! i look forward to when i come back and get to continue 3 i didn't want to let you know abruptly tomorrow or just not say anything and you wonder where i disappeared to haha.

now that that's out of the way, looks like mc is starting to see leon differently. mc definitely won't forget what he's done for her, right?

they both deserve such big hugs honestly 😭

-august

Chapter 20: i wanna fight but i can't contend (xx)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When Leon boarded his plane that night, it wasn't his broken rib that was bothering him. It wasn't the large stack of papers he needed to read before he landed that held his attention, no. He stared blankly at the page longer than he should've allowed. All he saw in replacement of the words was you.

Someone so determined, so passionate. Someone who wasn't afraid to tell him what she thought. A woman who had barely glanced at him, yet when she did held a dizzying weight to her words and eyes.

Wrapped up in something more dangerous than he had known, and should've expected.

He glanced down, realizing he had gripped the stack of papers so tight they were practically ruined.

He thought of that photo he'd found on your kitchen counter. The only thing out of place. The name on the back. Carlos Oliveira. Mostly marked off and leaving a message for you in its wake.

There it was, the reason.

He didn't know the man, but he knew he was the reason why. Why you were at the F.O.S., why you were in danger, and why someone was watching you.

There was no way in hell he could stand by and watch.

Leon didn't even know that his heart had been stirred and he was more of his younger self than he'd ever thought possible, because as he forced himself to focus on the task of reading the information before him, he was already plotting out what needed to be done when he was back.

Find out who Oliveira was, his connection to you, and why you had a target on your back.

So like his younger self.

As if he hadn't lost him on the way.

The following day was a staggered and faint day, so unlike yourself as you tried not to focus too long at any one task.

You had the morning and the early afternoon before you had to go work. You hadn't slept. Around 11 AM- after having checked in with Claire once again, you were light-headed from hunger and knew you couldn't hide away in the hotel room any longer. You would have to eat, go buy some clothes for work, and not sit in your uncertainty.

LIVE in Oliveira. Did this refer to Carlos? Being alive? Why feel the need to specify that?

LET GO. Let go of what? The most plausible answer being to let go of him, but that would never happen.

LOSE. The word that you dreaded the most. You avoided thinking about it any further.

While mulling over your thoughts, you looked up and realized you were right outside the library. You knew what you wanted to do here, and with one last look for your surroundings, you went inside. Logged onto a computer. Searched. Wrote down addresses. When you thought you were done, another caught your eye. Your heart rate picked up and you wrote down this one last address before you logged off and headed out.

Now for food and clothes.

You were browsing for a dress shirt when Claire called. Again.

It seemed her unease was still not put to rest, especially since you told her you had errands to run.

"Hey," You said, holding a shirt out to inspect it.

"How's it going?" Claire tried to sound nonchalant but you didn't miss the note of relief.

"Uneventful. It's hard to find a work outfit the day of, though."

"Sounds about right," Claire went quiet, and you waited. You still hadn't quite shaken the inability to really talk. You weren't going to stop what you were doing, looking for Carlos, so you figured that meant whoever had broken in would be back. Instead of giving into your fear, you had to push through it. That's where all your energy was at. "So. Chris is back home. I think it'd give me some peace of mind if he checked up on you."

You suppressed a sigh. It was starting to feel like you were a child everyone wanted to protect. Still, she was worried. You didn't want to make it harder for her. "Okay."

"Maybe after work he can pick you up?"

"I'm sure that you're not asking and that translates to, 'Chris is picking you up after work. Be ready'. Am I right?"

"You know me well."

You didn't hold back a sigh this time. "That's fine. I'm doing this for you."

"He won't bother you. Might annoy you but that's just how brothers-" You weren't sure if the wind being knocked out of you would've happened if she had just finished her sentence. "Sorry, I don't know why I-"

"It's fine. It's true, isn't it? That is how brothers are."

"I shouldn't act weird about it."

"You're not."

"I'm just… I'm really mad someone is fucking with you. All because you're just looking for him. Something's not right."

You knew that, too. Consciously or not, Carlos was involved in something bad. Bad enough that you were at risk.

In the middle of the aisle, your short breaths let you know you needed to change the subject. Now. So you asked what had been in the back of your mind. "Why did you call Leon?"

The abrupt change of subject had her confused. "What? Oh," She paused for only a moment before saying, "Well, I actually called Chris first. He didn't answer. He was working, and I thought of the next person I trust."

"Which is Leon?"

"Which is Leon. At least with this. Look, I may not be as close to him, and I know I've said he's changed. But so have we. The world we live in, we've had to. I knew I could rely on him. Even if you don't want him to get involved, I knew he would show up for you."

"How can we be sure of something like that?" You whispered, not because you thought of Leon as someone unreliable. It was because all you'd ever known was people letting you down. Everyone aside from Claire.

This time, she didn't even have to think about her answer. "I've seen him fight hard for everyone other than himself."

You didn't know what to say to that.

Reading their files, you knew you'd never fully understand the trust they carried in each other, even when they weren't close. Aside from already seeing how quick to judge him you'd been, Claire's high esteem for him made your caution soften even further.

Leon was really more than anyone gave him the room to be.

The time was quickly dwindling, and you didn't have time to eat. You accepted that, because your research at the library had been more of your priority. When you couldn't sleep last night, you thought about what could bring you more peace of mind.

As much as you relied on Claire, you knew the only person who could truly protect you was yourself. You had to step up.

So you ignored the hesitation in your feet when you came to a stop before the gym. Joan's, an all woman gym. From your research, it was part boxing gym, as well. When you had discovered this in your research, you knew you had to check this one out.

The anxiety making you stiff loosened with everywhere you looked, quiet as the employee at the front gave you a small tour. The gym wasn't busy, but where you did look, you saw different women keeping to themselves as they did their own routine.

You listened as the employee listed out the different martial arts classes they provide on different days of the week, cataloging that once you got a little more comfortable. You suspected learning some defensive techniques would certainly give you more confidence walking around on your own.

Nodding along to the employee, your attention diverted when a commotion happened off to the side, your steps slowing as your attention was drawn to the two women sparring in the boxing ring. They were almost too fast for you to register what they were doing, let alone being impressed.

"She doesn't mind when people watch. She's our most frequent regular, at least when she's available." The employee led you closer to the sparring match and when she didn't notice your questioning look, you couldn't be bothered as your attention came to the two women again.

Close up , you realized why she had only specified one of the women. Now that you were able to see more clearly, one was leagues above the other in terms of skill. The one who was defending had just as much trouble keeping up with her opponent's attacks than you did.

At first, the dread that sunk in your stomach had your mind whirling. How were you supposed to just miraculously develop strength and skill? It would take time, and you had already wasted so much time. How were you supposed to get stronger quickly and find Carlos? You were a lost cause-

Your self doubt dispelled as the super star in the ring performed a quick succession of moves, then paused and talked quietly to her opponent. You watched as the other woman attempted to replicate it. The super star circled the woman and showed her the move again, instructing her calmly and giving her pointers.

The sight moved you.

So much of recent events, so much time had passed of you letting yourself wallow in defeat. You were closer than you'd ever been.

If you only had two days to get stronger, you'd walk away knowing one thing.

You wouldn't quit. You'd keep going even if you were beat down, even if it took your entire life. I'm coming, Carlos.

You froze, not registering a single thing the employee beside you said when the two women in the ring turned, signaling they were finished. The super star in the ring was Jill.

You followed her movements as she talked with the woman, the two of them walking close to where you stood to climb out of the ring.

Vaguely, you registered the employee's questioning tone but you didn't care as you walked the perimeter of the ring until you were nearly arm's length away from Jill. The woman was talking about the last move, saying something about how she had so much work to do. Your heart jumped when you heard Jill's low voice say, "You got this. You've improved a lot since last time."

"Excuse me." The two of them turned toward you. You tried to think of what to say, how to approach this, preparing to open your mouth to speak- that was, until you watched Jill's face pale in shock. You frowned at her, eyeing her as she regarded you. You tensed, wondering but not for long as she shook her head and regained her composure in the next second.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to react so cagey. You just… you reminded me of somebody I used to know," She murmured. Ice water was crashing down on you. Carlos.

Words left you.

The woman Jill was with said she had to go, not regarding you as she left. The more seconds passed, the more you watched Jill's expression sharpen. This wasn't going well and it was only the first few seconds.

"I-" Your eyes went past her shoulder and out the front windows of the building. There, in the parking lot, was a hooded and masked figure. Your body went cold for a different reason. As soon as you looked at them, they turned and stalked off, quickly out of view. You knew. That was who had been in your house. They were following you.

"Who was that?" Jill asked, her voice steel and unfamiliar than when you'd heard her speak earlier. "Hold on," She said, and you tried to rein in your breathing as she went over to the front desk and told the employee about someone creeping around here.

You slamming the bathroom door snapped you out of your fog.

Jill was here. She went to this gym. She was a regular, and she knew Carlos enough to have seen some sort of resemblance- Someone was following you. They were watching you and they must've been trailing you since yesterday. Even when you were with Leon. Even at the hotel.

Your fingers were shaking as you found the contact Claire insisted you add to your phone.

"Chris. Something's happened. I need you to come pick me up. Please."

"Where are you?"

Since yesterday, the moments you were going through had been striking you in snapshots. You couldn't dwell on one moment for too long in fear of having a breakdown.

Your next moment was opening your door to the concerned employee once Chris let you know he was waiting for you outside. You brushed the employee off, thanking them before swiftly making your exit. Your gaze bounced around the gym, not surprised Jill was gone.

Jill didn't know you. Why would she possibly hang around, curious about what you had to say?

She didn't know you.

She would.

Notes:

chapter 20! what a milestone! i'm so excited for what's to come. like i mentioned in the previous chapter, i'm going on a trip for a few days and i'll start posting again once i'm back! what i can guarantee is you'll hear from me by next weekend!

you don't understand how excited i am about jill. what do you think?

until the next chapter, my friends! i look forward to it.

- august

Chapter 21: stuck with you in your dreams (xxi)

Notes:

Guess who's back, back again! Enjoy the long chapter in celebration of picking back up where we left off!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Beneath that sound was the distant AC unit blowing.

Click, click, you clicked your pen over and over as your mind tossed the words live, let go, or lose around in your mind until they stopped making sense.

It had been five days since someone had been in your apartment. You had hardly slept, ate very little, and you knew you weren't doing enough to take care of yourself but you never were. Carlos needed you.

Five years. Five years, he was gone, and you were just as clueless as you were then.

You hadn't been back to Joan's yet, and Chris had taken to renting a room at the same hotel as yours. You mostly didn't see him but when he called to check in on you, you made sure to answer- the one time you hadn't, he came banging at your door so you learned your lesson.

He gave you rides to and from work, ignored you when your lack of sleep had you snapping about how he even had the free time to be around you. All he'd said was, "I don't."

Claire was coming back tonight. That simple fact was enough to keep you functioning a little while longer…

"Are we boring you?" When someone called your name, you had taken too long to respond. You blinked rapidly, looking around the room and seeing that the debriefing had gone silent as everyone watched you.

Director Connors, the woman who ran the F.O.S division and whom Claire had managed to score you the opportunity to talk to about your position was at the front of the room. She was hardly available, given her responsibilities, so amidst your sluggish thoughts you knew you had screwed up when you'd caught her attention negatively.

"Sorry," You said, voice hoarse. You cleared your throat and realized you were about to click your pen again so you set it down. You reached for your water bottle and paused when Director Connors was still watching you before she turned back to the whiteboard and began speaking.

Yikes. Her being impressed with you that first time you met was gone just like that.

You looked up from your blank piece of paper and saw that Archer was looking at you. He tilted his head in question but you just looked back down. You had to stop slipping up.

When you did manage to sleep these past few nights, you saw someone stalking around your apartment. Even when you were hidden in your dreams, even when you entered unaware, they were always there. If you didn't dream about your apartment, there were always eyes on you in your other dreams. Sometimes they were Carlos'. Your dreams about him were the worst, because it started to feel like his face was unfamiliar. With every passing moment, your desperation was climbing.

The debriefing ended, and as you stood up, Director Connors called out to you without looking at you, "Please hang back a moment."

You didn't care much for the looks everyone else sent you, as if you were back in school again and you were about to be reprimanded. You supposed you were about to be, but still.

Her back was turned to you, hands clasped behind her back. She had never given you the impression of a warden in the one conversation you'd had, so you were taken aback when she looked over her shoulder at you with a coldness that could freeze the building.

"If you're unfit for the role, you are more than welcome to hand in your badge at any moment. Sooner rather than later is ideal."

You blinked, tried to find a footing in her bluntness. You really should've eaten this morning. "I-"

"I don't need an excuse or explanation. I need you on your A game. You're obviously not well at the moment. That's not acceptable, not in this role. Not on such an important mission like this one. Agent Archer needs you sharp."

"I understand that," You sharply inhaled as you tried to clear your mind. She was talking patronizingly, but you couldn't blame her. Still, you knew your abilities. She was judging you based on one slip up, and you didn't like that. "I won't let him down."

"You're letting him down as we speak. Have you been taking care of yourself?" She faced you, shorter than you in stature. Her lips, pursed. Her eyes, writing you off.

You briefly considered trying to defend yourself. How would you explain, though? More eyes, more hands, all of your nightmares coming true.

You steeled your shoulders and met her gaze with your own ice. "I know I wasn't sharp in today's meeting. That won't happen again."

"Do you understand the weight of a mistake in this position? One mistake, and an agent is killed out on the field. One mistake, and an entire population can be wiped out. Forget the mission, think of the lives in your hands. Are you aware of that? Are you aware of the role you play? I won't tolerate imperfection."

With every word, you knew she was right. You resisted the urge to bow your head or become small. Every word struck true as a wound, but they seared into you. Carlos came first, but you were also in a position that could play with lives. You had to balance both. You would.

"Understood."

"Do you?" You gritted your teeth as you met Director Connors' eyes. She was really drilling it, yet the look in her eyes wasn't care for her employees. It was a different kind of steel. You shook it off. The room was starting to suffocate you. You needed air.

You nodded. When she waited, you reiterated, "I understand."

She dismissed you when she turned back to the whiteboard. As you reached the door, she didn't turn around when she said, "Have Archer fill you in on what we covered." In other words, she was aware you hadn't retained any piece of information.

In the next moment, you were looking out to the desks. Ingrid was hard at work, still on call for Leon in Dallas. From her, you learned it was a shorter and more simple one; he should be wrapping up any day now. He hardly needed her for this one, but she was there. Always reliable. You were sure Director Connors had never spoken to her about her absentmindedness.

A wave of lightheadedness hit you and you sunk into your desk chair. You bowed your head and closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing.

"Here," You glanced to the side and saw Archer holding out a muffin. "It looks like you need it."

"Thanks."

You silently picked at the muffin, blankly staring at your computer screen. At different moments, you had caught yourself wondering about if you had been home when the stranger had been there. Usually it filled you with a paralyzing fear, but some moments a dark desperation washed over you. What if you could just figure out who it was? What if you were strong enough to subdue them, question them, find out more?

You wanted to scream-

"Is it not good?"

"What?" You asked sharply to Archer who was still standing there. You followed his gaze to see you had completely smashed the muffin in your hand. "Oh. Sorry. Just… I'm sorry."

Archer quietly said, "I get it."

"You do?"

"I mean, not everyone can do what you do. What I do. It takes a toll. Try to listen to your body, alright? I think taking care of the fundamentals will make it a little easier in those long meetings."

You blinked hard and realized he had warmed up his tone. He was trying to be friendly. You looked at his face, really looked at him. Slightly older than Leon, still handsome. Quiet and a bit awkward yet insisting you to call him Ark. Director Connors' brutal honesty struck you hard, then. If you messed up, this was whose life could be at risk.

You didn't want to see anyone else get hurt.

"Thank you, Ark."

His facial expression opened in surprise before he offered a small smile. "No problem. We'll touch base later before I head out."

You jumped when you felt a small weight press on your head and glanced back to see Archer tucking the papers in his hand back under his arm.

Slouching back in your chair, you closed your eyes.

A few more hours and you'd see Claire.

Just a few more hours, and you'd feel a little more like yourself.

After you finished gathering your belongings at the end of your shift, you turned and saw that Ingrid was doing the same. Body heavy, you came to a stop. "Mission wrapped up?"

The only indication Ingrid was tired was the slight flyaway hairs popping out of her bun. Slinging her bag across her shoulder she sighed, "Yes."

Both of you walked in silence, and it wasn't an awkward one. You were more focused on seeing Claire. With the moment coming closer and closer, the weight on your lungs was lifting.

When you stepped off the elevator together, you paused with Ingrid when she stretched. Because you hadn't really talked to her recently, you asked, "No Blue Ace tonight?"

"A bubble bath and movie marathon is calling my name."

You nodded, briefly picturing that. That sounded… nice. How long had it been since you enjoyed something like that? Frowning, you succeeded in distracting yourself when you spotted a familiar truck parked outside, the driver standing and waiting.

Heaving a sigh, you held the door open for her as Ingrid wondered aloud, "Who's the scary hunk?"

"Scary?" Your face couldn't help but twist before shaking your head. Then you said, "Hunk?" And shook your head again. "I'll see you later."

"You didn't answer my question," She shook her own head but she was already walking off to her car.

"I like being mysterious," You joked before you carried yourself over to Chris. You opened your mouth to greet him but he beat you to it.

"With someone watching you, you'd think you wouldn't linger around in public."

You watched him get in the truck and debated biting your tongue. You couldn't help yourself when you uttered, "I wasn't lingering. And you were right there, bodyguard. I would've been fine."

He shot you a look and you tensed. You supposed Ingrid had a point about scary.

With the ride continuing on, you were thankful Chris liked to keep the radio on low- although today he had it on a channel with two people discussing world events. You were never really sure how to make conversation with him so you hardly did. Despite him rubbing you the wrong way when he first got involved, you knew he had good intentions. Not only that, Claire loved him dearly. You could stand to be near him for her comfort. For yours, too.

Soon, the familiar sight blurring outside the window was making your eyelids heavy. You wanted to stay awake because at the end of this drive was Claire; you wanted to stay awake because if you didn't, you risked seeing the stranger or Carlos.

You forced your eyes to study the interior of the truck. Eventually, they found Chris. His hand gripped the wheel tightly, then relaxed his hold. His expression wasn't cold, but it wasn't open either. You noted how despite the size of the truck, his presence was more tremendous than that. He was a mountain, and it wasn't just his height or body- it was his searing stare, his firmness. Personally, you couldn't imagine anyone wanting to fuck with him.

"Claire is…" His voice cut in your thoughts, and you faced forward, as if he were calling you out for studying him. You relaxed when you realized what he'd said. You turned your head back. He kept his eyes trained forward. "... always has been thick-skinned. She's one of the strongest people I've ever known, including myself. She would sacrifice herself for the people she loves." As if the universe knew he was speaking, the next light turned red and the truck came to a stop. With his hand still on the wheel, he finally regarded you.

"That's what concerns me. She will throw herself on a grenade for you in a heartbeat. That's why I want to know what you two are up to. If not for me, think about her. You two don't need to go at this alone."

Special, indeed. He had pinpointed your one fear in diving into all of this- getting Claire involved. He was right, of course he was, but more hands in this was just more risk. More risk, more attention, less chances of finding answers. Right?

You couldn't suppress a sharp breath. Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes. "If I weren't desperate, I would do this alone. Claire is all I have, and I wish I was strong enough to keep her away."

"Hell, a pack of wolves couldn't keep her from helping," You laughed in surprise. He was right. "Just think about what I said. I know you have no reason to confide in me. But I hope Claire's trust in me can be an example. I don't have to get involved, but I can help protect…" Your eyes jumped to him and he cleared his throat as he adjusted his grip on the wheel, "Yeah, I know, you and Claire don't need protection. But, anything… just ask."

You nodded, not knowing what to say. Chris didn't joke around from what you'd seen. Truth be told, you could use that reassurance. Another face flashed in your mind. Dark blue eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, you weren't as alone as your mind liked to convince you.

You spotted Claire's red jacket before you saw her face. Her eyes scanned before landing on you and Chris standing side by side, waiting for her. What you expected? A witty remark, a grin, even a bad joke. Instead, she paused when she was close enough, your face falling when her own twitched with emotion before she came forward and embraced you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," She whispered. Your hands were frozen hovering over her back before you hugged her back. You ignored the sting in your eyes as you blinked them away.

"Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

She pulled away, her hands firmly holding onto your arms as she studied you. The more seconds went by, her face grew in disapproval. Then, she shot an icy look over your shoulder and toward Chris. "When I told you to look out for her, don't you think that means, I don't know, to make sure she's eating and taking care of herself?"

"Claire-" You hissed, but Chris' own sharp tongue couldn't help itself.

"I'm sorry, did you want me to get a bottle ready for her?"

You both whipped to look at him, her eyes narrowed as you uttered, "I am fully capable of taking care of myself-"

This time, you shrinked back as her sickly sweet voice said, "Sure looks like it. Have you even eaten today?"

"I did!" She slowly crossed her arms. "A muffin!"

"Come on, Claire." She looked back at him. Chris' expression revealed nothing, but he said, "Lay off of her."

You were shocked, to say the least. He was trying to back you up?

"I get it, but taking care of yourself isn't negotiable. You don't get to just say to hell with it. Do you want to be more of a target-" She cut herself off but she caught how your face changed. Claire squeezed her eyes closed, before turning toward her suitcase.

Chris watched the two of you in silence, before stepping forward and grabbing her suitcase. She tried to argue and this time you watched as he scowled and snapped, "Just get in the damn truck." Your hand was already on the back door and she paused with hers on the passenger one.

When she turned to look at you, you saw how her own face was paler, eyes bloodshot. You had worried her, and there was nothing you could do.

So you offered her the smallest smile.

You didn't miss the relief tucked into her gaze.

Both of you climbed into the truck.

For a moment, you were able to take in your first deep breath in days. Then you realized the truck hadn't started at the same time Claire did, and the two of you looked over to Chris.

Before Claire had the chance to speak up, Chris' hand went to the keys. He side-eyed the two of you, "Burgers or Pizza?"

Your lack of appetite said neither. You watched Chris and Claire stare each other down before she said, "Both."

He shook his head and started the truck. "You're a pain in my ass."

You had to crane your neck to see a glimpse of Claire's grin, but it worked magic all the same as you relaxed, leaning your head back.

"...anyways, he was a world class asshole the entire trip, but I was able to handle it."

"Just like you always do," You said in response. Claire scoffed and paused with a pizza slice in mid-air. You added, "What? I'm serious."

"You make it sound as if I have my shit together."

"Your expertise wouldn't be so in demand for your organization if you didn't."

"If they really respected me, they wouldn't send me with douchebags like Harrison."

"Yeah, well, there'll always be douchebags."

Chris wasn't really listening. He had the quiet of the drive to formulate his thoughts, and the two of you catching up over dinner to brainstorm his next course. He tuned back in, however, when he heard you mention the gym.

"I only went the one time, but I'm planning on going more. I'd really like to… I don't know," Chris pretended not to notice you glancing at him. You were always cautious about what you said around him. "Get a little stronger."

He silently ate as Claire pointed her pizza crust at you. "That's a wonderful idea." He resisted rolling his eyes at her terrible table manners.

"Is it? I feel like I should've been-"

"Nonsense. Better late than never. Have you thought of your workout routine?"

"No, I was actually thinking of joining one of the martial arts classes. Just for beginners, or something. Haven't made any concrete decisions."

Claire discarded her pizza crust before placing her hands on the table and declaring, "I'll take classes with you."

"What?"

"You?"

You had spoken in surprise and Chris had spoken in disbelief.

"Yes!" Claire said before she realized he had said something. She gave him that look he knew all too well. "I would ask why you're asking like that, but I don't give a shit."

Chris leaned back, finishing the bite in his mouth before deadpanning, "I give you one class before you give up."

He was almost amused at how you leaned back in your chair, dreading what was coming. His nonchalance pissed Claire off more than what he was saying.

"Like always, you don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

He proceeded to list off, "Swimming, softball, ballet, band, piano lessons. Every class or club you've ever tried, you quit."

"I'm sure about what I want. Once I tried those things, I knew I didn't want that for me."

"And you think that martial arts is your calling?"

Claire exclaimed, "Hello? You've taught me all I know! You know how much I've picked up."

He brushed that off. "You know a class is different-"

"It's time for you to go. We don't need your negative energy stinking up the damn place-" Claire yanked his chair away from the table and grabbed onto his arm, entirely serious.

"I'm not done-"

"Don't care. Here," She picked up a full pizza box and a bag with a burger and fries in it, thrusted it into his arms, and pushed him toward the door. Looking down at the food, he knew that buying both was too much- "Drive safe, dumbass."

He stared at the door shut in his face, wondering where she possibly got all of her bad habits from, before he turned and headed toward the truck.

Chris had one thing on his mind, and he knew what the next step in his plan was to get him closer. He just wished it didn't involve him.

For once, Leon had been thinking about finally getting the chance to sleep in his bed. He had only taken a few steps off the plane before he was notified someone was trying to reach him. He had found a payphone, gritting his teeth as he waited and wondered what other bullshit they were going to throw him into, when the voice that greeted him on the other line surprised him.

Leon couldn't remember the last time he had been to The Sparrow. What he did know was the last time he had, it was the one and only time he and Chris Redfield had spent time together outside of work.

He peered through the front windshield, seeing its usual welcoming and aging look about it. He'd rather be in bed. That, or- well, he'd rather take the chance to check up on you. All throughout his trip, he had debated reaching out to you when he'd touched down in Dallas or when he had gotten back. Leon very well couldn't reach out to you when he was on the field, but he had embarrassingly tried to hint at you to Hunnigan once. If Hunnigan had noticed, she certainly didn't give him anything to go off of.

Even between the tiring and endless meetings they had him attend in Dallas, he had considered creeping away and calling to check in.

Each time he did, he shut it down. He wasn't sure if that was crossing a line. He didn't know what the lines between the two of you were.

He knew he had let you down, but he also remembered how alone you had looked in that hotel room. How frozen you were outside your own home.

He hated it.

It reminded him too much of how he was on his own.

Until he figured out how much room you'd make for him, he would respect the distance. He never wanted to overstep. Not only that, Leon had long lost the ability to determine whether or he was genuinely wanted or when people kept him around with other intentions. That wasn't you, but he also didn't know what it looked like when he tried to show his care.

He closed off those thoughts and climbed out of the car.

The lighting in the bar had him pausing at the entrance as his eyes adjusted. He spotted him at the end just as he was finishing up his glass. One thing he could always count on: Chris Redfield looking a mix between pissed, bothered, and tired.

Leon asked, "Of all places?"

Chris glanced at him before motioning for the bartender. "Good times, right?" His voice was emotionless, meaning he was being sarcastic. Leon strained to remember that foggy night as Chris paid off his tab and stood up. He motioned to the door with his head and Leon followed.

As they stepped outside into the brisk cold, Leon finally landed on it and couldn't resist his unamusement. "Are you referring to how you kicked my ass at everything that night?"

Chris shrugged as he lit his cigarette. He blew out the smoke before confirming, "Good times."

"I was completely wasted that night. I wouldn't call that worthy of a night bragging over."

"I drank just as much as you did."

"Okay." Leon was starting to wonder if Chris needed friends if he was calling him of all people to hang out with before he felt the atmosphere shift.

Without looking at him, Chris held out his cigarettes. Leon waved him off but he insisted and uttered, "Come on, Kennedy. Don't be naive."

He had called him for something a lot more serious. Leon was aware he needed to be discreet, so he pulled out a cigarette and held it between his lips. "So?"

He held out his lighter and Leon grabbed it, the two of them facing forward as Chris uttered, "You know LUNA, I'm sure. Which means I'm confident you've already suspected something else is going on."

Leon's heart rose then fell. He lit the cigarette. He didn't inhale. Pulling it away from his mouth, he said, "Someone's watching her. I'm sure you knew that, too."

"I've been close by while Claire was out of town." Relief then something unfamiliar struck Leon fast. Chris inhaled and then blew out smoke. "What do you know?"

He shifted through his options quickly. Leon wasn't jumping for joy to partner up with Chris on this, but he knew he was the best choice if it were to be anyone. Holding the still unsmoked cigarette, he muttered, "Carlos Oliveira. The name means something to her."

Chris held the cigarette between his lips while taking the pack and lighter back. "The name's familiar. Oliveira. I'll get back to you on it."

Leon nodded. Then, "You?"

"LUNA and Claire are looking to rope Jill in."

"Valentine? Why?"

"Claire says-" Chris hesitated, the first time he paused and shot Leon a quick glance. When he didn't speak up again, Leon flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

"Partner, Redfield. Not informant," He reminded him.

"LUNA lost someone that night in Raccoon City. Jill may have known them. And she's looking for closure."

Leon was unsure how to process the weight that entered his system. He nodded once and quietly confirmed, "It's settled, then. Oliveira is who she lost. So we have to figure out the connection to Jill."

"She tried to talk to Jill and failed. She'll try again."

"Shouldn't you know when she does?" Leon thought back on it. "I mean, you stood in her way at town hall."

"Claire has been suspiciously distant. I think she's cooking up something. Chances are, she's gotten a hold of Jill on her own."

"So how are we going to-"

"We need to be there." Chris turned his head to look at him. "We will be there when they talk to Jill."

"Okay, Mr. Confident. How?"

"That's where you come into play. Claire is icing me out, so work your damn magic and find out more from LUNA."

"I think you're misunderstanding. She wants nothing to do with me."

"Doubt that." Leon cocked an eyebrow. "Just be useful."

"Like you're going to be?" Leon snapped before saying, "Because the breathing down the neck method is so effective."

"And your methods have proven useful?"Leon didn't say anything."Exactly. We're in the same boat. And it sounds like we also want the same thing."

Leon thought of your fire in the restaurant, then thought of you shivering from the rain.

He nodded once before taking a step toward his car. Without looking back he said, "I'll find out."

"Good."

Notes:

Heyyyyyyyy!

Thank you for the love and sweet comments I received. It's a little baffling knowing how much some of you enjoy it. It means more than I can convey, so much that I find myself re-reading them and feeling warm. I found myself on the trip smiling and getting overwhelmed with emotion whenever I read your comments.

The trip was incredible, I'm so grateful for the experiences. If you're ever wondering if you should take a break, please do! It makes a huge difference. I've been back for the weekend and I've actually been writing a lot for the story! I was a little worried about the break but it actually did a lot for my inspiration. So yes, if you're needing a break, TAKE ONE!

I'm almost done with my first playthrough of RE4r. Would've been done already if not for the trip, but I'm so sad it's almost over. The Ramon fight was such a pain in my ass, my brother and I just decided to use the rocket launcher lmao. The regeneradors are TERRIFYING. Anyways, that's enough rambling.

CHRIS AND LEON TEAM UP!

-august

Chapter 22: tell me what's in your eyes (xxii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Thursday, two days after Claire was back, your biggest opportunity was coming in a mere matter of hours.

Jill was coming over to Claire's for dinner.

It wasn't the most foolproof plan, considering your presence was going to blindside her. Claire's 'brilliant' idea consisted of telling Jill her new roommate might end up joining them for dinner, and that's when you would show up. Definitely not tcreative, but hopefully you would know how to take control of the conversation once she recognized you.

This late morning was a brisk and clear kind, sharp whenever you took in a breath. Though you hadn't slept much in general, you were more rested than you'd been in a while. Today, Claire had made you take yogurt and fruit to the office.

As you finished up your fruit and clicked away at your computer, your mind wandered.

What would Jill say? How would she react? Who was Carlos to her?

With every scoop of yogurt, you brainstormed how to approach the subject. Running through possible responses, you prepared yourself.

"You seem chipper."

You looked up to see Ingrid standing there with an abnormally large pile of papers.

Looking down at your yogurt, you said, "Well-"

"Must be because a certain someone is back in the office today."

You blinked. "I didn't know he was back."

Ingrid nodded and then hummed. Was she… teasing? If she was, it was short lived as she turned her attention to the pile in her arms. "I'm sure you're just as busy as I am, and it pains me to ask, but the fax machine is screwing up again and I really need to get these out. I have back to back meetings starting up in a few. Could you run these to the fourth floor fax machine for me?"

"Yeah, sure." She passed the pile to you.

"Thanks. I'll treat you to lunch today."

"It's really not that big of a deal-"

"It is when I can't trust anyone else to do a task so simple. See you in a bit," With that, she was off.

You thought of her words on the ride down, how she said she trusted you. It made you smile the slightest bit. Then you remembered why you were here and how the person she knew you as was fabricated to give you leverage in your search for Carlos. Your smile was gone like that, shorter than the amount of time it took for you to fax the papers and head back to the elevators.

Even your guilt over that was dim in the grand scheme of things. You were busy mulling over the dinner tonight to prepare yourself for seeing Leon inside the elevator. You froze, gaze connecting with his and his presence shocking all of the coherency out of you.

The doors began to close. You stepped forward at the same time his hand reached out, going for the open button.

"Thanks," Your voice came out rusted, so you cleared your throat as you joined him.

"It's nothing," He said. As you faced toward the doors with minimal space between your and his shoulders, you weren't sure what to make of the clenching of your stomach. What you did know was it was a little difficult to resist looking at him.

As the elevator rose, the two of you stayed quiet. It hadn't been that long since you saw him, but the last time you had you were a mess. He must've been curious, right? Why wasn't he saying anything?

As if he had read your mind, you turned your eyes forward when you saw him shuffle in place as he turned halfway to face you.

Your lips parted when in your peripheral version, you saw him close his mouth and his arm raise, hand going to his neck. There was more color to his face, like he had also gotten a little more rest than he usually did. That was good.

Your shoulders straightened. Okay, you hadn't realized you had even noticed when he wasn't looking great.

The doors opened and you realized neither of you had managed to say anything.

So, "I've been staying at Claire's now."

He held out his arm and you stepped out first, turning toward him as you held the pile of papers to your stomach. You wondered if you were imagining the slightly more open expression he was giving you.

"That's good. Are you going to… room with her now?"

"Not sure yet. Thinking it over."

"How are you doing? Has anything…?" Leon trailed off, looking over your shoulder and then his. There wasn't anywhere nearby but he was being cautious. You appreciated that.

You thought of the masked stranger outside Joan's. You shook your head. "Nothing."

He studied you and you wondered what he saw. You could cringe, thinking back on how you had clung to him in the rain. Obviously, you knew it was nothing to be embarrassed over, but damn you couldn't fight the embarrassment. What was he thinking? If you had the ability to read one person's mind, it would be his.

Leon slightly tilted his head.

You raised your eyebrows in question.

Studying your face for a couple beats longer, your stomach clenched again at his observation. Or did it flip? What was this damn man doing-

Your thoughts stuttered to a stop when you witnessed the slightest twitch of the right side of his mouth. If you hadn't been studying him attentively you wouldn't have caught it.

"What?" You asked.

"Nothing," His gaze fell as if he had some inside joke with himself. "I'm glad you're okay, is all." Your lips parted and then he was taking a step back. And another. He let you watch him before he started to turn away. He said, "Have a good day, LUNA."

As you watched his back, you realized two things: That feeling in your stomach meant you were nervous. And you were happy to see he was okay, too.

To your surprise, it wasn't long at all when you saw Leon again. Later that morning Archer had come to your desk. He was telling you about something regarding a previous case, and you had been listening. That was, until you looked over to see Leon was talking to one of your other team members. He had just said something and your teammate laughed, and Leon had taken the brief halt in conversation as a chance for his eyes to snap right toward you.

You weren't prepared to look away as he held up the styrofoam cup in his hand- pointing at it, then winking as his index finger bent to his thumb in a symbol of approval. This morning, you had decided on a whim to buy coffees again, none specifically reserved for him. You had just left them in the break room without really saying anything. You weren't even sure how he'd known it was you.

You just rolled your eyes and bit back amusement.

He held a hand to his heart in feigned offense before he lifted his cup to his mouth and turned his attention back to his conversation. You turned back to Archer, silently noting how the atmosphere completely shifted whenever Leon returned.

A minute or so passed and without really thinking about it, you looked back over in his direction. He had already been looking at you, and his gaze turned away quickly. You didn't know what to make of it, or of the way you had to turn your own eyes away.

Even people around the office laughed, smiled when he was around.

Could you blame them? You were glad he was here, too.

Except.

Except, well, maybe it wasn't for the same reasons. This time, the Leon of your memories was one with no hesitation and soaked to the bone as he walked with you. Supported you. No questions asked.

You didn't want to think about it, but when you glanced at him at the same time he glanced at you, you knew something had changed.

There was no time to think about that as you tuned back into Archer.

You thought there was no time to think about Leon- until today made sure you had yet another chance.

Ingrid had gone out and brought back lunch for the two of you. You settled in a break room. Over lunch, Ingrid gave her usual offer of the Blue Ace after work. She made sure to add she was actually going tonight for a dinner deal they had going on.

"Can't. Have plans," You said, not really thinking about it as you stabbed at your food with your fork.

"Dinner?"

"Yeah."

"You never did tell me how it went with Leon. I assume it went well, since you're having a second one tonight."

Your hand paused. Unaware of your staring, she chewed her food. Before she got the chance to take another bite you asked, "Why would you assume that?"

Ingrid raised one shoulder then dropped it as she ate some more. "You both seem… a little different now. Lighter? I don't know. It just feels a little different when you look at each other and even when you don't look at each other."

You shrugged it off. She wasn't a dramatic type, so you knew she genuinely felt that way. What was she going off of though? You and Leon hardly interacted, and today was the first time you had seen him in days. You had exchanged a handful of words. Hell, the dinner had gone terrible so you weren't sure what looks she was going off of anyway.

"My dinner isn't with Leon, if that's any indication."

That grabbed her attention.

"Then who-" She gasped, shocking you into silence as she exclaimed, "With the scary hunk?!"

"Ingrid," You hissed, gaze shooting to the break room door. Seeing it was closed gave you some relief, but you still warned, "Keep your voice down. Remember? Vultures?"

"Well?"

She was just curious, you knew that. Especially because you had just inadvertently said the Leon dinner wasn't great. You weren't sure how to diffuse the situation. So you just said, "Yeah. With the 'scary hunk'. Stop calling him that."

"Wow."

"Didn't take you for the type to be so invested in romance," You said, hoping to change the subject.

"I mean, I know he's hot, he just doesn't seem like your type-" Cutting herself off caught your attention as you realized her eyes were trained toward the door. You followed her gaze, freezing at the sight of Leon paused with his hand still on the doorknob.

He left no moment to silence as he said, "Sorry to interrupt. Left you the file on Dallas to review and finalize. Connors wants it by the end of the day."

"Okay, thank you. I'll take care of it."

Leon nodded, eyes flicking to you before he stepped back out of the room and closed the door.

You slouched in your chair, hand going to your head.

"Whoops." Ingrid was unfazed at the unamused stare you shot her.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Come on, it's hardly anything to freak out over. The two of you are hopeless."

"And you're delusional."

"We'll see about that. Now are you going to tell me more about the scary-"

"Nope."

Leon had to read the same paragraph three times before he realized he wasn't focused. The overcast sky wasn't making it any easier for him to find the energy to keep his eyes open, let alone do his work. At least on the field he could keep his blood pumping, body moving and pushing his limits.

He leaned back in his chair, the silence slowly eating at him as he stretched out his neck.

His gaze flicked to his desk drawer, thinking of Sherry's photo.

Moving his chair to face the other way, he looked over to the window. He stood up, leaning his hand near the windowsill and looking outside. He didn't see much, only the parking lot and the surrounding buildings. Nothing warm or inspiring about it.

So his mind wandered.

Specifically, to the memory that was poking at him for the last two hours.

Passing the break room and on his way to meet with someone, he had noticed you and Hunnigan settling down to eat lunch. On the way back, he started thinking about just how much you fit into the picture around here. Like earlier , when he'd seen you and Archer, it caught his attention as he had listened along to the story he'd previously heard three times before in the past.

He watched Archer talk to you, how Archer always watched for your reactions. He saw how Archer lit up a little whenever you responded a certain way, how he hung onto your every word. He saw how the man's face changed when he noticed you were looking at Leon instead of him. He even saw how Archer always made it a point to touch your head with his papers, even when he didn't have anything to show you.

Even if you knew about how Archer looked at you, you didn't treat him differently. In fact, you always listened to anyone who approached you. You included them and you gave them that room. He had noticed how Hunnigan softened with you. Saw how Archer straightened at the sight of you.

Here at the F.O.S., you were as real as they came.

If he were a puppet, a doll people made dance and that they dressed up in their minds, you were the mirror that shattered that falsehood. So concrete. So genuine. He envied that.

On that walk back, he had found himself imagining what it would be like if he joined you and Hunnigan for lunch. Would the two of you be okay with him joining? He couldn't remember the last time he ever had lunch with anyone.

He was in the middle of debating whether or not to do it when he paused outside the break room, knowing he had to tell Hunnigan about the Dallas file regardless. With his hand on the door, he caught the sound of you saying his name and paused.

"... Leon, if that's any indication."

"Then who-" He heard Hunnigan gasp before she exclaimed, "With the scary hunk?!"

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Ingrid, keep your voice down. Remember? Vultures?"

"Well?"

You were seeing someone? Leon pictured you behind this door, wondering what your face looked like. Were you flustered, were you smiling? He glanced back, suddenly realizing how this looked.

"Yeah. With the 'scary hunk'. Stop calling him that."

"Wow."

"Didn't take you for the type to be so invested in romance," He pushed open the door.

"I mean, I know he's hot, he just doesn't seem like your type-" Hunnigan immediately stopped talking as she noticed him. Though he wasn't looking at you, he was keenly aware you followed her gaze and froze at the sight of him.

All thoughts of joining the two of you for lunch went out the window.

There were moments where Leon caught himself wondering what it would be like to be just a little more average. Average in skill, average in appearance, average in use. Every part of him was used for someone else's gain.

At this moment, with you watching him, his self hatred was a little more stark.

Because if he was a little more average, did that mean he would be able to have a more successful dinner with you? Would he be able to join in with others without knowing they had other things on their mind on what they wanted from him?

This was what it was to be on top.

Leon took his leave quickly, and since then, he was holed up in his office

He realized in his reflections his hand had found its place on the desk drawer. Pulling out the journal, he flipped open to the back and picked out the picture of Sherry. He was looking at it when Hunnigan knocked and entered.

"I reviewed the Dallas file. Everything looks good to go but I have a couple clarifying questions."

"I'm all ears," Leon said as he slid the picture away and flipped through the document he had been trying to read. Hunnigan's questions were brief, and he thought that was it until she surprised him once again.

"I take it you heard us talking about LUNA's date tonight."

He hadn't heard that part, but he had heard of a man in her life. His face didn't give any indication as he skimmed the file in his hands. "It's none of my business."

Hunnigan didn't move from where she stood. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he already wanted it to be over so he looked up. She was standing there, arms crossed and an unwavering stare pointed at him. Hunnigan always had an talent for looking a little longer, noticing the little cracks.

He didn't like it.

Leon tilted his head the slightest as he lowered the file. "She's welcome to date anyone she likes. A dinner with me doesn't change that."

"It was that bad?"

"I thought you were big on professionalism. This doesn't fall under that, I'd assume."

"Work or not, I was hoping dinner between you would be a good thing. I just wanted you to know that."

"Know what?"

"I find it unfortunate she's having dinner with someone else."

He nodded along, running his fingers along his lower lip before he asked, "Again, why do you care so much?"

Whatever answer he was expecting, it wasn't the one he got. "It may not mean much to you, but I actually consider LUNA my friend," She paused, her stare finally breaking away from her as she rushed out, "And you too, so I won't interfere. Though she's being so cagey, I'm wondering if she just said she's having a date to shut me up. I just… I want you both to do whatever's best for the two of you."

"I see." He finally said, because he had no idea what he was feeling or thinking. Too much, nothing at all.

"Well, I'll let you back to it, then." He had already turned his attention back to the paper when she said, "And Leon?" Her back was turned. "Make sure to eat lunch."

She was gone when he scoffed in amusement. Hunnigan? He could always count on to call things out, to have his back, to be upfront.

It may not mean much to you. If the wave crashing into him was proof, he'd say he cared more than she'd ever know.

And why did she always come to him about you? Did she think he'd be affected at the thought of you having a date with someone?

The ugliness clawing in his chest and up his throat, this morbid curiosity of what may have happened if he hadn't fucked up the dinner, that wasn't serious. He wasn't someone who felt this, who doubted himself.

You had dinner with him, and now you were having dinner with someone else. So what?

There were bigger things on your mind, why would you even bother thinking about how much of a screw up he was? Like someone watching you, like whatever Oliveira's significance to you, like Jill. You had all of that on your plate, so a date with someone…

A date with someone, he couldn't judge.

He thought of how Hunnigan said you had been cagey, and how she wondered if you were even having a date.

Straightening in his seat, he thought of you and Claire wanting to meet with Jill.

Could it be… Jill you were meeting?

He picked up his jacket, found himself outside and then down the street. At the gas station, he picked up and dialed.

When Chris picked up, he said, "I have a theory. It's about tonight. It's LUNA and Jill."

Notes:

if you'd like a visual of how leon and mc snuck glances at each other across the office (emphasis on the part where Leon was already looking at her) watch this clip from 2:17-2:23:

/jh6iksYTevk

I've never seen this movie, only stumbled across this clip and it's absolutely wild how the briefest eye contact can communicate so much.

THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK IN THIS CHAPTER! Ingrid is all of us cheering them on in this slow burn haha.
Leon's observations about MC...

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

- august

Chapter 23: open the blinds, let me see your face (xxiii)

Notes:

posting a little earlier today bc funny enough, i have a dinner i'm going to tonight. twinning with MC haha

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

You had just stepped outside when you received word from Claire that she was with Jill. A wave of nerves struck you and you had to pause to take a breath. It was early evening, the sun going to be gone sooner than anyone realizes. You were minutes away from learning more about Carlos.

There was no room for doubt anymore, you had to actively choose to think positive.

"Need a ride?"

You turned and a different kind of nerves struck you at Leon appearing from the building. It was odd how much you'd seen him today but you shrugged it off. You worked together, after all.

"Ah," You said when you realized you hadn't responded. You hadn't planned on getting a ride from anyone, likely taking the bus. It would've given you time to collect yourself… however… "It's fine. I don't want to be a bother."

"You aren't." You found yourself thinking, He's just being nice, but when you looked over at him you saw how genuine he actually was, thought about how he always was. You checked your wrist watch. It would be more efficient.

"Alright."

Leon led the way to his car. At this point you could pick out his car with your eyes closed. As you pulled on your seatbelt, you found yourself amused at the drastic change of events with the two of you. You went from curiosity to animosity to… generosity? What you were certain of was Leon's ability to surprise you and to… well, stump you.

You breathed in his air freshener, wanting to ask where he got it from. It was fresh and icy, more of a cologne than a car freshener. "Oh, do you know Claire's address?"

He nodded, eyes glancing at his side mirror. You let yourself relax as much as you could at the prospect of talking with Jill. The doubts threatening to keep in were vicious, so you exerted a lot of energy on keeping them at bay.

You were driving yourself a little wild with the mental back and forth; you needed to distract yourself. Without turning your head, you watched Leon drive.

One arm bent, his long fingers were relaxed and pressed into the wheel gently, as if he had no concerns about driving whatsoever. In the times you drove with him, he was always quiet and faraway, so you wondered what he would be like if someone reckless cut in front of him or if someone did something stupid in general. How was Leon when he was frustrated, or surprised? How was he angry, or sad?

Your thoughts were getting a little too cozy for your taste, so you turned them to your memories of him. You opted out of the umbrella gift, as well as the dinner. There was more to him than being a kind stranger or a distant dinner companion. You recalled then how in the recent weeks he moved stiffly, and how he had started to move like he usually did again. Without looking at him you asked, "Feeling better?"

"What do you mean?"

"You looked hurt recently. Not sure if it was serious, but you seem like you're feeling better."

When the silence took on a different weight, you were surprised to see he glanced at you a handful of times. After the last glance, he kept his gaze trained forward as you witnessed a sort of darkness spread over his face. Not quite cold. It was new. His voice came out stiff. "I'm fine."

You nodded, because you didn't want to put him on the spot. Thinking that was it, you turned toward the window.

"It was… a minor injury. Could've been worse."

You hummed. "I'm sure our definitions of 'worse' are vastly different."

"Well. What's yours?"

"Whatever had you grabbing your side like someone had stabbed you."

"It wasn't a stab wound. It was a broken rib."

You winced. "Yikes. Yeah, that's bad."

"It could've-"

"What's worse than a broken rib?"

"Two broken ribs." You blinked, turning your head to look at him. When he sensed you looking at him, he glanced at you. "What?"

You covered your mouth for a moment. "You're kinda cheesy. Did you know that?"

"I may have heard that once or twice."

You shook your head. This guy.

Approaching the end of the ride, you couldn't avoid the memory of Leon earlier at lunch. You had already considered the thought of him hearing your conversation with Ingrid, but you weren't sure if bringing it up was worse than not bringing it up.

If he hadn't heard, then it would be immensely awkward.

Thankfully, you didn't have to as Leon said, "Heard you and Archer have an important mission coming up."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, there's been a lot of preparation for it." You thought of Director Connors scrutinizing you. The weight of the risk. You picked at your nail as you said, "Heavy shit. You know, as usual." When you looked up, you realized who you were talking to and would have hit yourself. Leon, the most renowned special agent. Who had endured and experienced the most horrific experiences, and you, a desk agent talking of 'heavy shit'.

As you mentally berated yourself, Leon said, "Never gets easier. Just get better at managing it."

Thoughts slid away. For once, you allowed it. You didn't worry about saying the wrong thing or having a repeat of the dinner. You found yourself quietly asking, "Have you? Gotten better at managing it?"

Your heart jumped when you and Leon glanced at each other across the console. You caught that slight tilt of his mouth again. "It makes me feel better to think so."

"That's enough."

It was a red light. Those two words made Leon turn fully to look at you. You couldn't look back. For a very different reason than any other reason you usually had to not look.

"You think?" His voice was low, thoughtful.

"I know. All you can do is move forward. It won't work every time, but getting back up? That's enough."

He swallowed. "Yeah."

The car was turning into Claire's neighborhood. You added, "Just make sure not to get too carried away at figuring it out. That leads to even more than a broken rib."

"Two broken ribs?"

"Disappearing." You said, serious.

Your mind, hardly ever quiet, was regaining its noise at the sight of an unfamiliar car in Claire's driveway.

The car came to a stop at the curb and you couldn't look away from the front door. Behind that door…

"Thank you for the ride, Leon."

"Have fun tonight."

His words clicked and he was successful in dragging your attention back. "What?"

You couldn't interpret the look washing through his eyes. Deep blue and deeply impenetrable.

He'd heard you and Ingrid.

"Right. That," You looked down the street, hand still on the handle. No handle on your emotions. "I was… exaggerating a bit. Ingrid surprises me with her interest, sometimes."

"You don't need to explain. You deserve to have a good night. And good company."

Pushing the door open, you finally looked at him. You loosened the reins on your worries once more, just this once. Because the look on his face? You knew you caused it. You and your mouth that night when you'd torn him down. "My lucky day then. I had good company for the drive." You winked and climbed out of the car.

By the time you turned toward the front door, your attention was completely gone from Leon. Hands on your keys, you were already walking toward the door. Your breathing was rough and fast. Your hands were sweaty around the keys as you slid them into the keyhole.

You had envisioned yourself freezing at the door. You had envisioned many different ways this unraveled.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside.

The smell of steak cooking wafted from the kitchen. Your ears perked up at the sound of a low and quiet voice coupled with Claire's.

"I'm…" You cleared your throat and spoke louder, "I'm home."

"In here!"

You walked around the corner. You noticed a coat strewn across the back of the couch. From this angle, you couldn't see into the kitchen but their voices were clearer. You stepped closer.

"Honestly! He's definitely got to work on his delivery. How could he make grown men cry at 14? It's villainous."

A laugh- Jill's laugh- had you tense. This was happening. Jill's response was, "It's impressive."

"Hey."

Claire was the first to turn quickly. Her eyes were bright, smile reassuring as she focused on cooking the steak. Jill leaned on the counter near her, head turned toward the stove. She was wearing a sweater and jeans, nothing out of the ordinary. Why did you sense the heavy kind of influence lurking beneath?

Then she turned her head and looked at you.

You expected her face to pale again or ignite in suspicion.

Instead, she blinked and a slight smile found her lips in greeting. "LUNA, is it? Nice to meet you. Properly this time."

You shot a look at Claire, but she was already turned back to the stove.

"You know who I am?"

Jill's eyes lit with humor as she leaned back into the counter, arm holding her up as her legs stretched out. "I think I'd be a little curious seeing the same stranger more than once, right?"

"You saw me at the town hall?"

"Hard to miss someone nervously trying to reach me. Even harder to miss with a stormy Redfield barreling after you. Pretty much impossible when an agent prone to trouble also joins the mix. I figured approaching you then would only overwhelm you."

This time, you sent Claire a look filled with all of your questions. The one she sent back was reassurance once more. You forced your racing heart to calm down a little.

You admitted, "The gym was a coincidence. I had no idea you worked out there. I've just been thinking about getting stronger myself."

"I respect that. Sometimes the hardest part is starting. If you'd ever like any tips, let me know."

An image bloomed in your head. Of Carlos with this enigma of a woman before you. You knew he must've liked her. It was a sharp knife to your heart.

Claire chimed in, "Trust me, we'll need them."

"Not too sure about that. With a stickler like your brother, I'm sure you've got aces up your sleeves."

"No matter what he's taught me, I know there's much more to learn."

"True. He should be taking pointers from you." They laughed, an easy and comfortable understanding.

Internally, you sensed yourself retreating. Was this what friendship would look like for Claire if she wasn't tied to helping you?

"Food's almost done. The two of you can wait in the living room," Claire nodded at you and you realized how unfair it was for you to think that. Just another thing you'd have to work on.

"Come on. Seems we're overdue for a conversation." Jill straightened and you didn't say a word as she led the way out of the kitchen. Her posture was immaculate, her muscles noticeable even beneath her sweater.

"I hope… you don't feel too blindsided."

Jill glanced at you over her shoulder. "Like I said, I suspected something sooner or later. Which, sorry I couldn't stick around at Joan's. I would've talked to you then but I wanted to make sure that creep lurking around was taken care of. I also got called in, so there was that."

"Trust me, you don't have to apologize. I wasn't sure how to go about this at all."

"You're doing just fine." Jill relaxed into the couch and you took the recliner adjacent to the couch. She watched you, not with pressure but with patience.

Her confidence made it as if this was her living room, as if you were two friends catching up. You doubted you'd met anyone as badass as her.

Your thumb went to massaging the palm of your other hand as you began."I've thought long and hard about how to ask or how to have this conversation. I haven't really come up with something so," Your fingers knew exactly where to find it as you grabbed it out of your bag and put it down on the coffee table. You turned it and slid it across the table.

Jill's eyes flickered down. She leaned forward and you watched her expression closely. Just like Leon. Unable to be read. Her fingers traced the edge of the photo before she pulled it up and looked at it. She flipped it over, eyes skimming the words and the handwriting you had memorized.

Finally, she looked up at you.

In her hands, she held your world.

In her head, she may have the answers.

"I haven't seen my brother since before that night in Raccoon City. You may be the last person that saw him. That knew him."

Her chest rose. Then fell.

"I only knew him that night, but I will always know him as a friend."

"You knew him?" You whispered.

Jill confirmed with a nod. "He's the reason I'm alive. I would be dead if he didn't save me that night. We kept each other alive, escaped together."

"He was a part of the U.B.C.S… he worked for Umbrella," You said, because that was the one thing you had managed to uncover. The words were nearly impossible to say.

"Your brother wasn't aware of their motives or any of their connection to the events that unfolded. Not until that night. When he did find out, he was devoted to working against them. Unfortunately… it didn't all go according to plan. But we escaped with our lives that night. Together. He's an honorable man."

Pulling your hand from your mouth, you looked down to see they were trembling. Clenching your fists, you asked, "Do you know where he went after that?"

"I know he fled to South America. Our government wouldn't take nicely to his involvement, I'm afraid. Even if he pleaded his case and the fact that he was unaware. He spoke about justice. He didn't want Umbrella to get away with what they'd done."

South America. Fled. He was safe. He was safe?

"That's why your file was mostly redacted? Why it doesn't have much information on him?"

You only now noticed the glass in Jill's hand. She must've just picked it up as she swirled the contents. Her eyes were back there, that night. "There is much about that night they want to never see the light of day. I'm sure Carlos is one of them."

Your body collapsed back into the chair.

So Carlos wasn't missing? He was just in hiding?

"So Carlos just left." Me, you wanted to say. Your throat was hurting. Your eyes were stinging.

"It's not so simple, LUNA. I…" She took a deep breath before setting her glass down and leaning toward you. Her gaze blazed, so burning it pulled you from the depths. "Listen, I never knew his exact location, but I had my sources. I wanted to make sure he was fine. That he was never exactly alone. That if needed, he'd have someone to turn to. My contacts… they've gone completely silent."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's been half a year and I don't know what's happened to Carlos."

"Up until six months ago, he was fine. And now…? Now he's missing?"

"Now, I don't know. But I'm going to find out. We'll find him. Together."

"How? You said you never knew his exact location. All this time, and neither of us have that key piece of information."

"We have a start. And that's all I've ever needed."

You had to lean forward, drop your head forward. Breathe in, breathe out. If your mind was usually on overdrive, it was crashing with the onslaught of new data.

"LUNA." You raised your head when Jill's hand gripped your fists. The two of you held each other's gaze. "Carlos is a tough son of a bitch. We're going to find him and bring him home. He saved me once, and I'm going to save him."

You opened your mouth but the sound that filled the air was the doorbell going off.

Claire came out of the kitchen, eyes already narrowed as your heart rate picked up.

Jill looked over to her curiously then studied you. "I'm guessing whoever that is wasn't invited."

Claire approached the door, spoon in air. You joined her from behind, the two of you sharing one last look before she peered out the peephole. She moved back and uttered, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Who is it?"

"I'm going to kill him. Kill them both."

Then she opened the door.

Chris and Leon stood on the other side. The former, poised for a fight. The latter, a wild card with wicked eyes.

Notes:

WOWOWOWOWOWOW

We've come a long way, haven't we? JILL VALENTINE EVERYBODY.

- august

Chapter 24: this has broken me down (xxiv)

Chapter Text

"You going to let us in or what?"

Claire was completely silent, spoon raised in the air like she'd had a bright idea. Chris was carrying his usual tired frown. It wasn't either of them that you were focused on, no.

Leon had all your attention.

Standing just behind Chris, he wasn't shrinking away or embarrassed at all. The two didn't scream friends, but they sure did ooze every bit of confidence like they were out on the town together.

"Let me think about it," Claire hummed in feigned consideration then snapped, "How about no?"

"Why not?"

"Why are you here?"

"We brought ice cream. And wine," Leon offered in a monotonous tone, with no hints to how he was feeling as he held up a grocery bag.

"How sweet. Go eat and drink that at your own apartment."

"Since when is it a big deal if I show up for dinner?" Chris huffed.

"It's not a big deal. It's annoying when you come unannounced with a stowaway."

Leon's eyes flashed at her. "Claire, that's not very nice. Aren't we friends?"

Chris hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Yeah, isn't this dipshit your friend?"

"You weren't invited," Claire moved the door closer to her body, "Get lost."

As the two siblings continued their arguing, Leon's gaze struck yours fast through the small space in the door that Claire had left. You were hoping your look conveyed how unimpressed you were and you knew it had when you saw his lips twitch.

He was enjoying this.

"A surprise party for me? You shouldn't have." You and Claire both turned as Jill walked over, taking Claire's place at the door. She leaned on the doorframe as she asked, "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"I think I'm a little entitled to a dinner with my teammate and sister."

"That so?"

"Jill-"

"You should be flattered that I'm hanging with her. At least one Redfield is approachable." Claire snorted in an attempt to cover a laugh. Jill addressed you and Claire as she faced them. "These two have a real skill for subtlety, don't you think? I don't mind if they join us. Otherwise I'm sure they'll be hanging around outside like lost children."

"Hey wait a minute-" Leon blurted, he and Chris exchanging a look.

"Probably scare the neighbors."

"We're not trying to-"

"Get the cops called on them. On second thought-"

"We get it. We crashed your top secret dinner party," Chris rolled his eyes.

Claire turned to you quietly. "What do you think? They don't have to stay."

You thought you needed the distraction. Already, you knew more than you'd ever had; you also knew this night was only the first. To her surprise, you admitted, "Fine with me."

"Perfect," Chris moved to step forward. Jill didn't budge. The two stared each other down and you watched him purse his lips. She slowly dragged herself up and moved out the way.

You caught Claire hissing at Leon, "Didn't know you and Chris were suddenly pals."

"People grow on you," Leon shrugged, staring at you as he walked past.

As you watched him walk toward the kitchen, Claire's hand found your shoulder. "Sorry, I know that this only makes things harder for you."

"Hey," Your face softened. She was genuinely upset. "It's okay. We've managed to keep them at arm's length so far. Remember? The two of us are unstoppable. Besides, those two goofballs are more concerned about competing with each other than outsmarting us."

"True. I guess dinner won't hurt."

"It won't," You agreed, lowering your voice even further, "Because I already know more than I did."

Her eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Claire! This steak is burning!" Chris bellowed.

"Tell you later," You signaled and she nodded before rushing off to the kitchen. You shook your head as you heard the both of them spark up an argument over how to properly cook a steak.

Leon stepped out of the kitchen. Framed by the yellow kitchen light, you only allowed yourself a second to skim him over before you turned toward the living room.

"Didn't realize the art of cooking a steak was such a hot debate," Leon drawled. He came up to stand beside you and for the briefest moment you were going to join in on his jokes until you remembered he and Chris' little scheme. Were the two that invested in figuring out what you were up to?

You didn't say anything to him, just shot him a look before watching Jill scanning Claire's record collection.

"Mad at me?" You would've had something smart to say if he hadn't said it so low, so quiet, and so close to your ear.

Lips parting, you tried to ignore his close proximity as you looked him up and down and uttered, "I could care less you're here."

It came out colder than you intended, but he wasn't bothered in the slightest. In fact, the way his eyes took on a glimmer made you think he was eating this up. What a damn problem.

"I'm glad my presence is so exciting."

"Though I am curious," You turned your head and he tilted his. "You don't have anything better to do than crash people's plans? I mean, you dropped me off and you're here again. No other women to take out to dinner?"

Leon's eyes danced away. The two of you listened as Jill pulled out a record and called out to Claire to ask if she could put it on. Claire paused mid angry sentence to say yes before continuing on with Chris. "What kind of guy do you take me for?"

"Not sure," You said honestly.

"Think what you want," Leon outstretched his arms before letting them drop and walking around the couch before slumping down onto it. With his head leaning back, he looked up at you nearly upside down, "I have nowhere else I'd rather be."

"Bothering me," You uttered under your breath as you turned back to the kitchen. Claire and Chris' bickering it was.

They didn't notice you. Finally, they had quieted and Chris was practically leaning over her shoulder. You thought they were good until Claire snapped, "Cool it, backseat chef."

Chris heaved a sigh. "Just trying to help."

"Didn't ask for it. Just like I didn't ask for you to be here."

"Such a bad attitude."

Claire leveled him an icy stare. "I'd be a lot nicer if I didn't know what you were doing. Stop meddling in LUNA's business."

You stepped back out of view, feeling you weren't meant to be there. Reluctantly, you turned back to the living room only to hear Chris mutter, "She lost someone. You told me so. You think Jill's the only one that can help?"

It was hard to swallow. You weren't surprised Claire had given in a little to Chris, but the thought of Chris knowing more was a burden. That was why he was here. She'd given him a little bit and he was going to claw his way in.

It was only going to get worse. He and Leon being here proved that. Maybe they weren't the best distraction to choose, after all.

"Chris chased you out that fast?" Jill asked you without even turning around. Her attention was on the photos on Claire's bookshelf. You spotted the one of you and Claire for your 23rd birthday, her making you wear a tiara and big goofy glasses that spelled out 'Happy Birthday', arms slung around you. One of the birthdays that Carlos missed.

"Something like that," You said, taking your designated spot on the recliner. Leon's eyes were closed and his head was still leaning back. He looked perfectly at home.

Jill jostled him when she relaxed into the other side of the couch. He peeked an eye open and glanced at her before he settled in once more, crossing his arms. Jill looked at you. "How did you meet Claire?"

"Long story." It wasn't, but you weren't sure how to say she saved you when you were drowning without Carlos. "She kind of just weaseled her way into my life."

"And heart!" Claire shouted from the kitchen.

"That too," You said with a sigh. Jill smiled over her glass before taking a sip. She hummed mid sip, setting it down before unfolding from the couch and saying, "I forgot! I brought whiskey tonight. Here I am, drinking it in front of you."

Wide-eyed, you tried to insist it was okay that she forgot but she left to go grab glasses. The more time you spent around her, the more you relaxed. She wasn't unreachable, she was down to earth and more of a jokester than you'd ever suspect.

"No scary hunk?" Your smile faded as you looked over at Leon. His eyes were still closed. He scarily appeared asleep whenever he was this way. His facial expression was soft, long eyelashes fluttering.

"You heard that?" You asked in disbelief.

"Well, like I said, you deserve to have a good night. And good company."

It was sweet, that was true. Maybe it was Jill's effect, but you got the urge to tease him a little too. Leaning toward him, you conspiratorially muttered, "So is that why you decided to come back tonight? Wanted to make sure it was you?"

His eyes flew open, and you internally smirked knowing you had succeeded. Narrowing his eyes, he picked up his head to train them on you. In the cozy lighting of the living room, the dark blue was calculating. You ignored how it set your heart picking up its pace.

"I was hanging out with Chris," He decided on.

"Right."

"He thought Claire might want to have dinner."

"Mhm."

"Figured it could be a nice little reunion. Imagine our surprise, seeing you and Jill!"

"You literally dropped me off."

"You had a date!" He was sitting up now, pleading his case and giving you these soft eyes. His tone was convincing but you knew better. The tilt of his head, the slight twitch of his mouth. He was an excellent liar.

You thought of what it would be like if you called him out on it. It would be satisfying, yet it would cross into a dangerous territory. If you called him out, he could very well call you out. That wouldn't be the biggest issue if spending time around him lately wasn't making you a lot less certain of your resolve on keeping him at arm's length. A puzzle. A damn puzzle.

So you sat back in the chair and sighed. "I told you I was exaggerating."

"Hey, if Valentine is the scary hunk in question, it makes a lot of sense-"

"Well it certainly isn't you," Jill returned with two empty glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"You wound me," Leon said with a feigned wince before grabbing the first glass she served and holding it up toward her in a salute.

"That's for LUNA," She deadpanned.

"Oh," Leon blinked, quickly holding it out to you and freezing when Jill burst out into laughter.

"I'm just fucking with you! I was pouring for both of you," You and Leon both stared at her as she shook her head in silent laughter. "Too good."

You had to hide an amused smile behind your own glass as Leon downed his without hesitation. It was fun, seeing Leon on his toes.

Claire came out from the kitchen, stopping with her hands on her hips. "Food's done! Chris will do me the honors of getting the dining table ready!"

Chris called out, "You only own four plates."

"No backtalk!" Claire yelled back.

Everyone settled at the table. Claire's table only had four chairs, so she had to drag in one of her patio chairs from the backyard. When Leon zeroed in on one of the dining chairs, Chris beat him to it and sat across from you. You watched Leon's unamused stare as he grabbed the patio chair and scooted in between him and Jill, diagonally from you.

"You can always go eat on the couch," Chris suggested.

"And not sit next to my favorite person in the world?" Leon cooed, reaching up and pretending like he was going to squeeze Chris' cheek, not even close before Chris smacked his hand away.

"Food's really good, Claire," You said with a smile.

Jill hummed in agreement as she chewed, sending her a thumbs up.

Claire quietly beamed.

"It's…" Chris paused. Because you already saw Claire's face starting to change, you sent your foot flying toward him. You struck him, or at least you thought you did until-

"Ow! What the hell?" Leon winced, looking at you.

You bowed your head, taking special interest in your food.

"...Good, Claire. Thanks for the dinner," Chris finished with the utmost seriousness.

"Maybe I should become a chef on the side," Claire announced.

"Alright, don't take it too far."

"It's never too late to throw you out on your ass, Chris. Eat your food and can it."

"So do you want me to eat my food or can my food?"

Claire gritted her teeth. "Chris-"

"To Claire." Jill held up her glass. Everyone turned to her and one by one picked up their own glass. "For this lovely meal. And to LUNA, for new beginnings." The two of you held each other's gaze as you drank.

No matter how much you swallowed, the lump didn't go away.

You weren't sure if everything happening was a lot more stark or blurred now that you knew more about Carlos.

You briefly closed your eyes before opening them and setting your glass down.

The rest of the meal came and went in calm silence.

Shortly after small talk and finishing up, Claire stood and said, "Well. Guess it's time to clean up. Chris?"

Chris looked up from his glass and pursed his lips. "Yes?"

"Let's go."

He scowled and you piped up, "I'll help."

"We all can," Jill said, looking around the table.

"No, you're guests," Claire shook her head. "And LUNA, you can relax too."

"Please," You scoffed before standing up. Claire only sighed, knowing not to argue with you.

Chris realized then what Claire said. "Wait, I'm not a guest but he is?" Leon didn't acknowledge him as he leaned back in his patio chair with a pleased smile.

"Exactly. Now come on."

"You act like I live here."

"You sure do if you're showing up the way you did tonight."

You let them be, picking up the nearest plates as Jill wandered over to the back doors. You paused to watch her go, thinking of Carlos once again. He saved her life. He turned against who he was working for. He left.

When you entered the kitchen, Chris was inspecting the whiskey Jill brought and humming in thought.

Claire glanced back at him as she prepared the dish water. "Not my taste, but it was alright."

"Jill's got great taste in whiskey," Chris retorted, lowering the bottle to look at her.

"Maybe the only great taste she has," Claire uttered with a pointed glance at him and you widened your eyes. When Chris asked what she meant, she brushed him off, biting back a laugh when you sent her a warning look. She really liked pushing buttons, especially his.

As you carried over the plates, you thought to yourself, Chris and Jill, huh? Interesting…

While you went back to the dining room, you heard the freezer open and Chris say, "I got your favorite."

"Pistachio! Ugh, you get me. Thanks."

"You're lucky. I wanted to get Rocky Road."

"Why not both?"

"Because Leon said to get Strawberry."

"And you picked his choice over yours? Awww maybe you two really are friends," You gripped the plates in your hand. Why? Because their conversation was sweet, like their ice cream. Because you missed Carlos so fucking bad you weren't sure how you were supposed to go about your days anymore. And because no, Claire, he didn't pick Leon's choice over his own. He picked your favorite over his own.

You set down the plate and retreated to the guest bedroom and closed yourself into the darkness. It took longer than it's ever had to collect yourself.

When you ready to come back out, you noticed Leon outside with Jill, the two of them facing out toward the horizon above the backyard's wall. Chris was at the sink and you heard him mumble, "What are those two giggling about?"

Claire, putting dishes away, glanced over at them and confused, said, "I wouldn't call that giggling?"

"Hmph."

As if he were summoned, Leon came back inside. He didn't see you standing near the hall, watching from across the island. He declared, "Since we showed up uninvited, we can take it from here."

Claire straightened. "Well-"

"Take some time to wind down, Claire. We got this," Leon patted her shoulder.

"Sounds good. Be a doll, Chris, and scoot over for him."

"You're hilarious if you think I'm about to-" Claire went over to him and whispered something. You picked up Jill's name and you were floored to see the slightest flush bloom on Chris' neck.

"Pain in my ass," He muttered, turning back toward the dishes. "Come on, Ken. These dishes aren't going to rinse themselves."

"A nickname? I'm honored." Leon came up beside him as he rolled up his sleeves.

"I was referring to the doll, not your last name."

"You're going to make me blush."

"I'll strangle you."

None of them noticed as you trailed over to the back door, nor when you quietly stepped outside. The only indication Jill did was the slight turning of her head.

"You smoke?"

You shook your head as you stood off to the side. She rocked back and forth on the patio swing, presence here but mind far away. Like this, it was evident you would never be able to fully reach any of these people when they returned to their memories, to their horrors. The thought shook you; Carlos had been through those things, too.

"You're quiet now," She said, and the two of you looked out into the darkness of the backyard. Claire's small garage she had built in the corner, housing her two motorcycles. Overgrown grass and flickering lights scattered throughout. "I'm sorry."

You turned to her. "Why?"

Jill's eyes lowered. "I saw it in your face. What you wanted me to tell you and what I did tell you aren't the same."

"You have nothing to apologize for. This has never been easy. I could never expect the impossible from you." You rubbed your palm roughly with your thumb, rubbed and rubbed. You thought of the photo of Carlos you used to carry in your wallet, of the one who a stranger left a message on. You thought of him carrying you on your back as kids, of you throwing shit at him when you were mad.

You thought of his face when you told him fuck you.

You thought of him leaving you behind.

"I don't know what to think anymore. He didn't have a choice when he left. But…" You realized you were trembling, trying to hold it all back. Please, please, please. You couldn't do this, not now. You breathed in sharply and whispered, "That doesn't matter. I just want him to be okay. I have this terrible feeling that he's… not. Even if you say he was fine all these years. Something is wrong."

Jill looked up at you and didn't say anything.

She pulled her lighter out of her pocket, flicking it on and off. She held it on and staring at the flame, said, "He told me that night he's not leaving me in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Her face twitched with emotion even though she was slightly smiling at the memory. You couldn't swallow or breathe. "He won't start now."

That was the thing. He was gone. And he had left you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world.

"That sounds like him," You forced out.

"It does matter, LUNA," Her eyes stared through you in the dark. "Your feelings do. You can be mad at him."

You closed your eyes. A headache was forming.

"He did what he had to, when he left. That's true. But you have a right to feel the way you do, too."

I needed you, Carlos.

All this time, and you were gone for good reason. But still… I needed you.

"I, uh," The breath you sharply gasped brought you back down, squinting as you tried to find purchase. Jill stood up. You stepped back, hand fumbling for the back door. "I need to think."

"Okay," Jill nodded.

You were inside. Claire was wiping down the table and paused when she saw your face.

"Hey…"

It was all coming. It was a tsunami heading for you. You unsteadily shoved your way through the room, down the hall, toward the guest bedroom.

You crashed into it, concealed in the darkness as you took heavy breaths.

Cold, cruel, Carlos-less world.

"Why did you leave me?" Your voice broke as you slumped onto the bed. You pressed your fingers into your eyes- it didn't work.

The bed was moving- no, you were trembling. No, you were crying.

He had to flee, he did. You knew what it meant for him if they didn't hear him out, and you knew he wouldn't be welcomed with open arms when he had worked for Umbrella. He had to go, and he had to protect himself. Where was he now? Why did Jill's contacts go silent? Was he ever planning on coming back, or contacting you, or letting you know he was okay at any point? Did he even want to be found?

"You're still up."

The last time you'd saw Carlos, he was visiting you at your dorm. The stress of finals was weighing heavy on your mind. Criminal Justice hadn't initially been your first choice, but it first started as an interest then became a passion. Carlos may not know it, but he happened to be a driving factor in this decision as well. You always admired his tenacity and his being relentless. You just wished you could carry more of those traits yourself.

"I have to study for this." You had told him after he got up to use the bathroom and saw you were still awake.

"You've barely slept since I've been here," He looked so serious shadowed in your desk light. So caring.

It was the last thing you wanted. Gritting your teeth, you had snapped, "I'm fine."

Carlos looked around the small dorm, nodding as if trying to convince himself. "I know you are-"

"You're doubting me. Just like you always do. Like you always say, I have a knack for getting in over my head-"

"Hey, that's not fair. You're taking what I said out of context-"

"Carlos, I've been doing this for months now. You know this is what I want." You had twisted around in the chair, looking up at him and just wanting him to say he believed in you.

Instead, in a gentle tone, he broke your heart and wasn't even aware of it. "You've gotta realize by now."

"What, Carlos, what?"

"Sometimes we're just not cut out for-"

"Fuck. You."

His face fell and his lips parted. He studied your face, and maybe he just saw your rage. Maybe he didn't see you were hurt. Either way, he nodded, hurt yet understanding.

"You're not a kid anymore, LUNA. I know sometimes it's hard for me to remember that. I just want what's best for you. You're struggling in your courses, and I just-"

"I don't need you. Or your help." You had turned back forward, already feeling like you wasted precious time. You had muttered, "And I know why you really came to visit me this weekend. It wasn't because you missed me or wanted to hang out. You're being deployed and I bet you weren't going to tell me until you had to leave this weekend."

He didn't say anything.

You added, "And you're right. Guess we aren't all cut out for things. Like how you never are straight up with me."

When he still hadn't said anything, you looked over your shoulder to see he was gone.

"LUNA?"

The lights flickered on and you sat up. Eyes stinging, head pounding, you croaked, "Claire?"

Claire was standing in the doorframe and you tensed, thinking about how everyone still must be in the kitchen or the living room. Had you been crying loud? Is that what-

"They're gone." She stood there waiting. Giving you the space, either to hole up or…

You climbed to your feet, hands gripping the bottom of your shirt. You took a step toward her as you broke down, "Claire."

She came forward, wrapping you in her arms as it all came down on you. All of it. You cried so hard you couldn't breathe, holding onto her as she coaxed you to sit down with her. She held you as you fell apart, and unlike before, she wasn't the one holding your broken pieces together. She was there as she let them break.

You tried to speak and couldn't.

The knots in your chest and stomach slowly loosened. Still heavy but losing some of their strength.

As she held you, you thought of all the times Carlos held you too. He used to be all you had, and now it was different.

Despite not being alone, you were wandering and lost without him.

Eventually, you ran out of steam and you were able to breathe regularly. The headache was worse, and your eyes hurt. You silently rested on Claire's shoulder.

"I'm tired," Your own voice was loud in the renewed silence.

"I know." Claire understood you. She always did. Standing up, she held a hand out to you. "Let's eat some ice cream and go to bed."

"Okay."

You did just that. You climbed into Claire's bed. The two of you ate ice cream and watched MTV. Then you went to sleep.

The ice cream soothed your headache. The music soothed your nerves. Claire soothed your loneliness. Sleeping was the only thing that soothed your broken heart.

You awoke disoriented. The TV was static, and it took you some time to realize it had been the sound of Claire's home phone ringing that had woken you up. You jumped when Claire barrelled into the room, looking wide awake and furious.

"What is it? What happened"

She looked at you. "Chris and Leon are in jail."

You were wide awake now, too. "They're what?"

Chapter 25: one or two could free my mind (xxv)

Notes:

y'all were TAKING ME OUT with your reactions to the two of them being in jail. Haha, thank you for all the laughs and reactions. they've made me laugh so much the past two days.
i had a lot of fun writing this chapter, might be one of my favorites that i've written!
sorry for the one day delay! i needed a little more time for this one with what it ended up being. hopefully the length makes up for it.
i'm also feeling a little under the weather so i'm just focused on resting when i can.
enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

~1930 HOURS, five hours before the arrests

Leon found it strange how easy it was for people to leave their indentations on him. His whole life, his heart was tied to many different places and people; while he'd gotten a little better at snuffing it out in situations, whenever someone left deeper impressions he was pulled right in. His father had called it weakness, his mother a nuisance- when he was old enough, he embraced and liked that part of him.

Until he became who he was now.

He couldn't afford to care. Along the way, he began suppressing it or never letting it show. At least, he could say he tried.

As he watched you walk up to Claire's front door, he knew that all this time he'd told himself he'd changed but you were proof he hadn't. Just make sure not to get too carried away at figuring it out. That leads to even more than a broken rib.

Two broken ribs?

Disappearing.

Leon pulled off from the curb, mind already focused on getting to a phone. The more he drove away the more he never quite left you. How could he?

My lucky day then. I had good company for the drive.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt as he memorized the expression on your face into his memory. Winking at him, a curve to your lips. Aside from his tendency to care too much, he had no clue how he was supposed to avoid you stirring his heart. Guess he really couldn't.

There was no avoiding it, he knew that. He could postpone it or pretend it wasn't there. That had worked before, since he was a patient man and when he didn't show it, most people would conclude he was cold-hearted. The issue lied in the moments where he couldn't help but act, and that usually gave him away.

If these last few months were any indication, he was in for a long and tedious battle.

Maybe he didn't want to battle it.

Maybe he liked what he was feeling.

Of course, he thought of his father and how his expression would twist in disgust, say some ridiculous shit like, You were cursed with those looks, boy. Don't ever forget it.

He'd long stopped listening or caring about those words, but they still crept in whenever he tried to familiarize himself with, well, himself. Twenty one year old him was too hopeful, bright, snuffed out the second the world got the chance. He didn't want him back; he just wondered if he still existed deep down inside.

Pulling into a gas station, he spotted a payphone before ducking inside. Without looking at the girl working the register, he noticed her straighten at the sight of him. Making himself a coffee, he paused when he remembered your voice asking him how he was feeling.

How was he feeling?

Better.

It was a matter of waiting for the other shoe to drop, now.

The girl at the register looked him in the eyes and smiled at him. He just paid and went on his way, seeing her face change out of the corner of his eye. He knew she was probably thinking, What an asshole. So full of himself.

He dialed and held the receiver up to his ear.

"Jill's at Claire's," Leon said when he heard the silence change on the other line.

"I'm at the grocery store."

"Okay." Leon was unimpressed.

"Meet me here, dumbass."

"Touchy. The one near Claire's?"

"Yes. I was waiting for your confirmation."

"Always prepared. I like it." Chris didn't respond. Leon knew he hadn't hung up despite his annoyed silence, so he did it for him.

Leon found Chris in the alcohol aisle.

"A peace offering and thank you gift. Smart thinking." He leaned forward to peek at Chris' face. "You okay?"

Chris' frown deepened further somehow. "I… I don't really know wine."

Leon's eyes scanned around him, surprised. It was true he didn't know Chris that well, but he didn't seem like the type to fuss over what house gift to bring someone. It was a welcomed discovery.

Turning toward the wine, he studied them before he picked up a bottle and tilted it for Chris to read the label. "You can never go wrong with this one. Though your options are very limited at a grocery store, this is a safe choice."

"You think I have time to drive out to a vineyard? Go wine tasting?" Chris scowled.

Leon sighed. "No, I'm just saying. This one is the way to go."

Chris warned, "If it tastes disgusting-"

"Who's helping who here?" Leon asked with a bite to his tone. His gaze flicked up and narrowed at Chris' indecisiveness. Why did he care so much? "There a reason why it's so important to you to pick the perfect wine?"

Leon might be the only person to notice the slightest raise of Chris' chin. "No."

He was lying.

Who was he trying to impress? It couldn't be Claire, though it could simply be a peace offering like he had initially joked. Except would Chris really go the extra mile? In that case, he'd just pick one and call it a day.

Leon eyed him. LUNA, then…?

Pursing his lips, he roughly shoved the bottle into Chris' hands. "Here."

Chris held it and read the label. Leon was not in as much of a playful mood. "Are you trusting me or not?"

"You're insufferable. Anyone tell you that?"

"All the time. Let's go." Leon didn't wait and Chris followed. He wasn't sure if it was irritating that he did or didn't. Heading for self check out, Leon's attention turned toward an aisle further down the line. Nudging Chris, he said, "We should get ice cream too."

"Why?"

"Because who doesn't like ice cream? We need all the good grace we can get."

"Claire isn't a troll we have to coax into letting us pass under the bridge."

Leon didn't listen, and Chris followed him.

The two of them studied the flavors in silence.

Although Leon was a little peeved and wanted to stay quiet, he couldn't resist. "What kind should we get?"

"Pistachio."

Leon stepped forward and grabbed it. He wondered what your favorite was. The person who he could ask was the one they were about to blindside, so that was out of the question. Door still open and cold air hitting his skin, he asked, "Should we get another?"

"You pick. What am I, your dad?"

Leon chose not to ignore him. He pictured you in his head. What kind of desserts did you like? Did you even like them? Did you like chocolate, vanilla, mint chocolate chip? Cookie dough?

His hand went to the Strawberry tub. When he pictured you in the summer and underneath the sun, he saw you holding a Strawberry cone. Chris led the way to self check out while Leon vowed to find out your favorite ice cream flavor. That way, if it ever came down to it, he didn't have to guess at all. He wanted to know all the little things you liked and disliked.

As he pulled out his wallet, he realized he wasn't doing a very good job identifying the lines he shouldn't cross with you. Like wondering what your favorite ice cream flavor was. Or picturing you in the summer. Or mulling over the curve of your lips and the wink you sent him when you said he was good company.

Running a hand down his face, it took him a little longer to search and find that habit of his that he had perfected: caring for someone in secret.

~2025 HOURS, four hours before the arrests

Leon's social battery was already running a little low as he settled into the sofa.

You were quieter tonight and he suspected it was for another reason than his own.

He was doing a good job not to look at you since they'd arrived. You had talked to him a bit, yes, but you were out of it. You hadn't been happy he was here; he was surprised you didn't put up much of a fight, either.

Unable to help himself, he watched you from his peripheral vision as he took a sip of the whiskey.

He thought of your carefully neutral tone when you'd asked him why he didn't have anything better to do and about other women. He figured it was a result of his reputation that the F.O.S team gave him. Well, that, and his enjoyment in flirting. He'd meant it when he said there was nowhere else he'd rather be, but he knew you believed differently.

That would come in due time. Now? His focus was on proving his reliability.

To you and perhaps to himself.

Maybe it was the taste of the whiskey on his tongue, or how he felt your closeness despite keeping his eyes closed. He knew he was curious, but he spoke without thinking and asked you about the unnamed man in your life.

What he didn't expect- considering you were distant tonight- was you blatantly calling him out and saying he wanted to be this supposed 'scary hunk'. He really wished he didn't keep running his mouth, but he couldn't help himself. He could be very convincing, he knew that, but he saw how you studied him.

Those eyes of yours, unwavering and pointed. He had to resist the urge to swallow at their intensity. You backed down first, retreated once more. He backed down too. Above all else, he wanted to make it easier for you, not harder.

So he joked around a little, naming Jill who happened to have way too much fun teasing, too.

He drank the whiskey.

He watched you.

He wondered when he'd slipped into this fondness, and how he could nurture it further even knowing he'd eventually have to let it go.

Mostly, he waited for you.

After dinner he stepped outside to get some air. Jill looked over her shoulder before facing back forward, leg pulled up on the porch swing. "President."

"Holiday," He greeted, leaning on the nearest patio column.

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Likewise."

She said, "Fair enough."

It was already dark, and the brisk air washed over him, his hair blowing out of his face. He tilted his head up and basked in it.

Hearing a click, he watched Jill holding her lighter to the cigarette between her lips. Flipping the lighter closed, her other hand grabbed it from her lips and exhaled.

She held the pack out to him.

"Those things will kill you," was what he said instead of grabbing it.

Taking a drag, her shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Like anything else in our line of work, you mean?"

He studied the small and dark shed in the backyard as he quoted, "Fair enough."

Studying that shed, he was already thinking of going back inside. It wasn't that she made him uncomfortable in particular. It was his body that knew the different kinds of silences that only came with people that… well, underwent Raccoon City. It happened sometimes with Claire, but out here and near Jill, there was a kinship he never signed off on and that burrowed into his skin.

Instead of running from it- he never knew when to run- he turned toward her and leaned his head back into the column. As she flicked some of the cigarette ash, there was a moment where he considered asking her straight out about Carlos Oliveira. In the next moment, he thought about how it was the wrong way to go about it. He'd be going behind your back, and he didn't want that. Gritting his teeth, he pushed aside the urge. He looked back into the kitchen and couldn't see you.

"You're a lot different than I expected," She said, "I know about you, of course, but things are always different in down time. It's the chance to peek beneath the armor."

"And what do you see?" He asked, veering into the territory that usually closed him off even further. Today was a day he'd spent too much time self-reflecting. This was either going to send him off the edge or settle him.

"I see your scars, yeah. I see the toughened skin. But I also see a relentless heart." He paused. She added, "It's not the most peaceful destiny we've been given, having the kind of hearts we do in the work we do. But it's never boring, right? It's good that LUNA has you. From what I've seen… it's good you have her, too. People like us… we spend so much of our lives alone, even in a room full of people. When we get the chance to just… loosen the reins a little, don't we deserve that?"

He didn't catch how she'd looked down, then over her shoulder toward the kitchen. She put out her cigarette and started gently rocking the swing again. "Sorry. Whiskey gets me sentimental."

Leon just nodded. Her words had managed to do both.

"I'm going to go help them out."

"If Claire lets you."

Stepping inside the warmth of the house, he breathed it in and made sure to ignore how Jill's words had rattled him. She'd known exactly the kind of turmoil he always carried, the burden of being on top and being alone.

So he focused on the soap that trickled off the cups and his hands. He heard Claire say something quietly, heard rushed footsteps and looked over just in time to see you rushing down the hall.

All of his focus on not thinking delayed him in realizing he'd soaked his rolled up sleeves, and how something wasn't right about how you'd rushed off. With a sigh, he held his arms out and said, "I'll be back."

He peeked out to the backyard and saw Claire talking with Jill, shaking her head. Looking down the hall, he saw it was completely shrouded in darkness.

When he reached the bathroom, head lowered and hand clicking on the lights, he heard you. He didn't walk inside, eyes going to the closed door at the end of the hall.

It was quiet.

Not silent.

His sleeves were soaked and sticking to his forearms. This side of the house was cooler. He took a step toward the door and heard the sound of sad humming. The quietest gasps.

His heart squeezed and his fist raised to the door.

He gripped his fist so tight the knuckles were protruding. He ached, and yet he knew you wanted to be alone. You didn't want him barging in. Somehow, he also knew you didn't want him. But then… he thought of you when someone had broken in and terrified you. He remembered your relief when he'd stuck close to you. All Leon knew how to do was his job.

Letting his hand fall, he turned around and headed back the way he came. Claire and Jill were just coming in from outside and he saw the tense frown on Claire's face. She must know.

"So, guys-" Claire tried, but he wanted to help. He wanted to make things easier for you, and he couldn't resist because even though he wasn't good, even though he didn't know what it meant to loosen the reins like Jill said they supposedly deserved, he couldn't help but try. It didn't have to be him. It could be Claire for you. It could be the scary hunk.

He could ease things for you in the only ways he knew how.

"Chris, we better head out. The Sparrow's not going to be open all night, is it?"

Chris was in the middle of drying his hands, eyebrow raising as he met Leon's gaze. He mustered up the best Go along with it, asshole, look he could.

Finally, Chris said, "Right."

Good enough.

"You guys have plans?" Claire said on a relieved sigh. Leon's heart settled.

"Just going to kick Leon's ass at pool. And darts. Pretty much everything-"

"Alright, are you just going to talk or are we going to go?"

Leon waited until Jill was driving down the road, hand held out the window in farewell, before he said, "I guess we all can't be gifted with acting skills."

"You mean lying."

"Alright. Lying." Chris stared at him and he stared back. He inhaled loudly because he knew he wouldn't tell Chris he'd done it for you. He clapped once and said, "Well. Night's still young."

"You actually want to hit The Sparrow, don't you?"

"Not my worst idea." Leon walked forward a few steps on the lawn, spun around and pointed a finger at him. "You are the one talking a lot of shit like you're a pool or darts gold medalist."

Chris scoffed. "Because compared to you, I am."

"That's cute."

"Annoying me isn't going to work. I'd rather do anything else in the world than hang out with you."

"Yeah, like what? Hang around here looking like a rejected fool?"

The look he was leveling at Leon could make ice jealous.

Leon knew he had him.

If Leon went home now, he would be thinking of your tears. He'd be thinking of Jill's words. He'd be thinking of himself.

For one night, he just wanted to not be in his head.

~2150 HOURS, three hours before the arrests

The Sparrow's air was thick, heady, and suffocating.

He and Chris started out at the bar, sipping at their drinks and watching the television overhead. Chris was hardly the conversationalist and Leon usually appreciated it, but tonight it was the last thing he wanted.

The Cranberries played over static speakers and Leon muttered over his gin, "Dinner went well, didn't it?"

Chris was still watching TV. Leon thought he was ignoring him after he took a swig from his beer but then he said, "What'd you think was going to happen? LUNA would pour her heart out and we'd all hold hands?"

"It wouldn't kill you to be a little less crass, you know."

"Am I wrong?"

"No." Leon uttered. He sighed after a while. "I just don't really know what we're doing. If she doesn't fill us in now, you think she ever will? Maybe we should just… let her be."

Chris' eyes snapped to him. "You want to give up? You want to quit on her?"

Leon's face twisted. "No, that's the last thing I want. It's obvious she already talked to Jill, though. They're… they're handling it. Who are we to force ourselves in?"

"You're one of the best damn federal agents that came out of Raccoon City. I'm on the same team as Jill." So he was playing humble now? "If anyone is qualified, we are."

"Might make things worse. I'm not some free agent. Neither are you. We'll draw more attention."

"Because Jill's rap sheet is so squeaky clean. Nothing about this screams conventional. Since when do you care about playing by the rules?"

Leon didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't that he wanted to back down, it was that… he wasn't sure about Jill's words. He wasn't sure people like them deserved a little peace for all they'd done. Wouldn't all of them getting involved with LUNA only bring her hell?

Chris spoke up once more. "It's so much deeper than we know. We can trust Jill. We can't trust whoever is watching LUNA. Simple as that."

The conversation died when commotion sounded from the entrance. A group of college guys, all dressed in polos and fraternity hoodies, flowed into the bar.

"Perfect," Chris' lovely sarcasm signaled the end of the conversation as he turned back to the TV.

Leon did, too.

~2205 HOURS, under three hours before the arrests

A cigarette dangled from Chris' lips as he chalked the end of his cue stick. Another cigarette was tucked behind his ear. Leon had to squint in order to not smile. The pressure in Chris' already prominent frown was more satisfying than he'd ever admit.

He was kicking Chris' ass. He'd destroyed him in darts before this- though both of them were exceptional at it, Chris was the slightest bit off with his last one.

His so-called 'Good Times' from their last visit to this bar were dead and gone.

"What are you smirking about over there? Round's barely started, asshole," Chris said as he lined up his shot.

Leon held up his hands in surrender.

While waiting for his turn, he was well aware he was going to win. Some of the other customers had started watching, enamored from the show the two were putting on.

"You've got a fan," Chris mumbled around his cigarette.

Leon studied their surroundings and landed on the booth in the far corner. Most of the college guys were sitting in booths, and a group of women were sitting at one near them. One in particular, a blonde, was blatantly staring at him. He turned back toward the game and said, "Quit stalling and shoot the damn thing."

"Fuck off, Ken, you can't rush talent."

"You certainly can prolong it."

"Sure your ego can take a beating in front of your fan?"

Leon leaned back onto the table near him, unamused. "You talk a lot of shit for someone who's losing."

"Like I said," Chris struck and sunk two of his. "Can't rush talent."

His next barely missed.

Leon took his place, already mapping out his move. "Can do this with my eyes closed, baby."

Chris grimaced. "Gross. Save that for someone else."

"You started it."

Sure enough, Leon did win and Chris didn't like it.

"Good times-" Leon barely got the words out before Chris was stalking toward the bar.

"Come on. We know the real competition is drinks."

"Look," Leon tried to get serious, "Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose."

"I don't remember you having that same sportsmanship the first time."

Leon raised his eyebrows. "I don't even remember the first time. You're really that bothered I beat you?"

"Not a chance. I just know it's a little biased when people of our… skillset… play games like that. So we've gotta keep it classic."

"Who's we?" Leon pointed at someone walking by. "You and him?"

"You're hilarious."

"We should probably call it a night."

"Convenient."

Leon's head was a little fuzzy, but he was still able to consider their choices. He thought about going home and winced..

They both reached the bar at the same time. Leon met his gaze. "You're lucky I'm still thirsty."

~2300 HOURS, under two hours before the arrests

What had started as an intense race to see who could handle their liquor more, warranting even a small and encouraging crowd of drunk people, their high tolerance and refusal to back down quickly grew boring. The two of them found themselves where they'd started- seated at the bar and drinking quietly.

Significantly less sharp.

"She's shameless, I'll give her that," Chris piped up, holding his new glass of beer up to who Leon suspected and didn't need to turn to see.

He had no desire to respond, because Chris wasn't great at making small talk and only liked to comment and observe, which was irritating now that there was more alcohol in their systems. Chris was referring to the blonde woman from earlier, who had been one of the excited witnesses to he and Chris' drinking competition. She'd even bought the two of them drinks in celebration of neither of them backing down. She was watching him, alright.

"Are you going to thank her or what? She's not buying it for me," Chris noted, and Leon shot him a warning look at his volume.

"No."

"Why not?"

It'd been a while since someone had outright approached him like this, even longer was the last time he'd been with someone. Leon didn't date so it never went to that level, but the harder he thought about it, he couldn't recall the last time anyone had caught his eye.

Well, he could think of one. He had to swallow and push away the thought of your small smile sitting in his car, which was significantly harder when all his drinking only made him drown in it.

He tried focusing his vision on the drink he held. "Not my thing."

"Doubt that."

"You seem to have a lot of opinions about me. Care to share?"

Chris shrugged, face flushed. "I don't know who you're trying to fool, but it's not going to work on me. You can smile and point your stupid blue eyes somewhere else. I see right through it."

Leon blinked. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

"Every woman falls for you. It's sickening."

"Wow. That's news to me. Has every woman told you that?" He was annoyed. Maybe it was the gin. Or the beer. The vodka? Had to be Jill's whiskey. "Maybe someone's a little jealous-"

"Fuck off. Trust me, you have nothing I would want."

"You sure? You're oddly invested. Especially tonight. Were you a little worried I'd catch a specific someone's attention?"

Chris stilled. Bingo.

Leon couldn't hear the music anymore. It took his sluggish mind some time getting there, but he recalled Chris' attention to detail about the wine. About dinner earlier. About how he's acting with Leon. He forced nonchalance. "What would Claire think?"

Chris recovered but Leon had seen that pause moments ago. Fuck. Why wasn't his buzz fun anymore? Chris muttered, "You don't know what you're talking about." Leon started thinking maybe he was jumping the gun a little when all traces of amusement left him as Chris snapped, "Claire has nothing to do with it, by the way. I've never had a say in anyone she dates, even when it was every douchebag known to man. She thinks she's slick with her little comments she makes, but I'm not going to talk about dating with my sister of all people."

Dating?

Leon's jaw ached from the strain. "Yeah?"

Chris actually stifled a laugh. His words came out a little relaxed, soft, and fond. "Yeah. Claire is the last person to be giving romantic advice. She's also terrible at being subtle. Guess that's proof we're related."

Leon could give a shit about what Chris was saying. Chris was talking about dating, romance, commitment. Unblinking, Leon leaned closer. "So she's okay with it then? Does she want you to…?" He didn't want to know. Why was he asking? He was pouring salt on the wound.

"Oh yeah. She's been planning out our wedding, I'm pretty sure."

Leon downed the rest of his glass. Chris didn't notice.

Leon was officially in a foul mood.

It was just then that a hand came roughly down on his shoulder. He looked at it as he heard a voice say, "Hey, let me talk to you."

"Get your hand off of me," Leon said without turning around.

Chris glanced back at the person and wasn't interested, turning back to his beer.

"You think you can just check out my girlfriend and disrespect me right in front of my face?"

Leon still didn't turn. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"You're dreaming if you think I'll let it slide."

Leon rubbed at his forehead, confused as he turned his stool. Recognizing the backwards cap and college hoodie, he was one of the guys from the group who'd come in earlier, he scanned the room and finally landed on the blonde girl in the corner. Beneath her bangs, she looked worried as she slowly climbed to her feet.

"Hey-" The guy reached his hands out to shove him and Leon moved out of the way, yanking the guy down by the back of his neck and twisting his arm as he pinned him to the bar. There were screams from his friends and the guy was cursing rapidly. "Let go of me, you asshole!"

"I wasn't hitting on or looking at your girlfriend," Leon was calm.

"He's not my boyfriend," The girl argued as she rushed forward. "He's been messing with me-"

"Shut up." The guy spit. Leon squinted at him. "Either way, this creep was staring at you and you're going to take his side. Stupid bitch."

Leon twisted his arm back and he cried out. Leaning down, he uttered, "You might want to think about what you say. Running your mouth isn't wise in your position. She's not your girlfriend, you disrespect her and you're calling me the creep?"

"Fuck you, man! I'll sue you!"

"With daddy's money?"

"Leon." Chris didn't turn. In fact, he was still watching the tv. Looks like he wasn't in the mood for any more games, either.

Leon let the guy go.

The guy tripped and stumbled away. Turning around he hissed, "You're fucking crazy."

Leon stared at him and watched as he and his friends left.

"Thank you. Seriously, he's been… he's been a real issue ever since I met him. I should've never let him take me out on a date," The blonde girl said, looking flushed.

"It's nothing. He tried to touch me," Leon explained before sitting back down. The girl was still standing there, hovering, but he didn't say a word.

"Well, I appreciate it."

He didn't look at her. "It's nothing."

~0045 HOURS

"Leon. Leon!"

Was he on a plane right now? Why was he being shaked? His eyes shot open and nothing but Chris filled his vision. His head was tilted at the same angle as his, his rough hand shaking his shoulder.

"Back up," Leon groaned. "Geez."

"You wouldn't wake up. I was this close to slapping you."

"Want a prize?"

Chris sighed as he unsteadily straightened. "Get your grumpy ass up and let's go."

Leon sat up and blinked slowly, head spinning. He realized most of the bar goers were gone. "How long was I out?"

"I don't know, I was watching the show."

"Wow," Leon said as he pushed off from the bar. He was tired, hungry, and upset. Why was he upset?

The cold air was a bucket of ice water washing over the two of them, bringing them back down a little.

"Fuck," Leon gritted as he adjusted his jacket, "We didn't learn from last time?"

"You refused to give up," Chris shrugged.

Leon stopped and turned to look at him. "I can't imagine growing up with such a sore loser like you."

"Shut up," Chris rolled his eyes as he struggled to turn on his lighter.

"Need help?"

"No."

They stood off to the side, the entrance sign flickering overhead and shrouding them in red light.

Finally, the lighter sparked and Chris lit his cigarette.

"You and Jill are two peas in a pod," Leon slouched back into the wall, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

"Yeah, well…" Chris exhaled, "If only it were that easy."

Leon didn't understand. His head was throbbing.

"Our cab should be here by now," Chris sighed.

"Must know we're having an amazing time."

It was Chris' turn to ignore Leon.

A minute or so passed and finally, a cab pulled into the parking lot.

After Chris nudged Leon, the two slowly made their way across the parking lot. About halfway there, the two of them stopped, tensing just as the group of college guys from earlier appeared and started surrounding them. The asshole with the backwards cap from earlier was front and center.

"Seriously? How original," Leon snapped.

"Shut the fuck up, pretty boy."

"Trust me, you don't want to do this."

The guy clenched his fist as he grinned. "I definitely do. She's way out of your league, man, and you were trying to show off for her and our girlfriends."

Leon was tired. The asshole was also talking too much. He couldn't even blame the alcohol when he said, "Am I really to blame if they have to entertain themselves with a stranger over their shitty ass boyfriends?"

The nearest guy lunged for him and he side- stepped him.

"You can handle this," Chris said as he leaned on the nearest car, lighting another cigarette.

Leon rolled his eyes as he initially tried to just dodge and disarm them. He actually couldn't believe some of them were holding bats. Was it that serious?

It got slightly trickier when two of them circled him, one holding a bat and the other moving with signs of a martial arts background. He tried again, "Look, I really don't want to hurt you-"

The bat guy swung and Leon dodged before swiftly kicking him. He slammed into a nearby car, the alarm blaring in the night air.

He turned just as the other guy was aiming for a kick at his head, blocking it. Just as he struck him, knocking the guy out, he sensed someone from behind and darted forward just as he heard them cry out.

Leon glanced back to see the main asshole crumpled on the ground, cradling what looked like a broken hand. Leon's eyes flickered to the ground and saw the pocket knife just as Chris kicked it away. "Prick was trying to creep up on you."

"This how college kids are nowadays?" Leon said, scanning all of them on the floor groaning in pain or passed out. He sharply inhaled and winced, grabbing his side. Straightening, he looked at the one crying over his hand and turned to Chris, holding up his own in a high five. "Teamwork."

"You're celebrating over kicking idiots' asses-"

One of them snuck up from behind and tried swinging at Chris' head with a bat. Leon moved and kicked him, the guy crumpling.

Leon turned back toward Chris and held his hand up once more. "Teamwork."

Chris sighed and walked forward, but the two of them were a little too confident despite not being sober. Not prepared at all, Leon's eyes widened when Chris held up his hand and proceeded to trip forward, miscalculating and slamming his elbow into Leon's eye.

"What the fuck-" Leon stumbled back, hand rushing to press into it.

Chris blinked. Through one eye, Leon watched his lips tremble as he tried not to smile then tried not to laugh before he completely broke into a fit of laughter.

"You asshole-"

Bright lights shone on them and they heard a voice shout, "Put your hands where I can see them!"

Squinting at the lights, they held their hands up as Leon tilted his head to make out the police cruiser parked at the parking lot entrance. Two cops had their lights and weapons trained on them.

Leon glanced at the bodies littered around them. "There's been a misunderstanding."

"Shut up and turn around. Slowly."

"My name is Leon Kennedy. I'm-"

The cop was close enough now and Leon should've seen it coming, the way the man slammed his baton into Leon's stomach. The other one did the same to Chris, and they both collapsed to their knees.

"Learn to shut your mouth, son," The old geezer said and Leon pursed his lips. "And control that temper. These are just kids you attacked."

Sure.

"Let's take these two drunk assholes in."

Notes:

this chapter is quite special to me. it was just a lot of fun getting to spend some time with chris and leon. hope you feel the same (:

recently i was thinking about what the RE characters Hogwarts houses would be. it's always entertaining thinking about that. i'll think about it some more and let you know haha.

- august

Chapter 26: i'm on my way to you, but i self-sabotage (xxvi)

Notes:

well, well... look who finally decided to show up (me).

thank you for all of the thoughtful comments i've received from the previous two chapters. they really made my entire days and weeks.

let's go chapter twenty six, here we are!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It wasn't his proudest moment.

For once, Chris' intensity was dim as they took up the space in their suffocating cell. He had yet to move from standing in the corner.

Leon himself hadn't bothered to shuffle around once he'd taken the seat on the rusted bench. Despite that, it was still confining

This wasn't his proudest moment, but he'd certainly been through worse.

Though the lack of AC was making him sweat. With each passing second, his mind was clearing and the bruise on his stomach was throbbing from that asshole's baton.

Had he gone a little overboard? Maybe.

He didn't have much time to self-evaluate before the cell door opened. There hadn't been much time at all since they'd arrived and Chris had called Claire. The officer's eyes were pinned to the floor, entire attitude completely shifted. Neither Leon nor Chris moved from their posts, watching him.

"You two are free to go."

Chris was the first to adjust his stance and then step forward. The officer's eyes glanced up and he stepped aside. Leon nearly ran into Chris' back when he came to an abrupt stop right beside the man. He watched in curiosity as the man refused to look up. How his tune had changed.

He continued watching as Chris slowly turned his head, voice dropping as he addressed the officer. "I'd consider learning the value of not abusing your power."

Anyone could hardly conceal that as a threat, let alone Chris.

The officer stiffened, as frozen as granite as the two of them walked past. Everyone in the small police station watched them go in silence.

No one had bailed them out. They had been released.

The early morning air bit into his lungs as he welcomed it into his lungs. Adjusting his jacket, he effectively was sobered up at the thought of getting home. All that was left behind was the twists in his stomach after an eventful night.

"I don't regret it," Chris spoke into the quiet.

Neither did Leon. Well, maybe he regretted dragging Chris into it.

Instead he just nodded.

Funny enough, maybe an unspoken bond had been formed because of it- Leon shook his head. For the time being, what mattered was he was okay.

That was, until he heard two car doors slam in succession and they turned to see you and Claire standing there in the parking lot. Shrouded in a nearby flickering lamp light, he was amused to discover the two of you were more menacing than all of those assholes at The Sparrow combined.

A different kind of dread filled his stomach.

You pictured him in the office, glancing at you over his cup. In the elevator, knocking his head back in exhaustion. In the rain, formidable against anyone standing in his way. And now, close but far away as you fought off the shivers coming on beneath your thin sweater.

You tried not to stare so obviously but you couldn't help yourself.

You watched him without watching him as Claire came down on Chris.

"When Jill said get the cops called on you, she was joking!"

The two of them didn't say a word and you let Claire continue as your eyes trailed to him again. His jaw was tense and his head was pointedly turned away. You could do nothing at the worry building in you.

"...so what happened? What did you two idiots do? And who bailed you out?"

Something you could only pinpoint as mischief briefly danced across Chris' face as you watched him look over at Leon. He thought better of it, you guessed, as the mischief disappeared. "Don't worry about it." He ignored Claire's scoff. "It worked out, didn't it? They let us go."

"Yes, because that makes everything better-"

"Claire, enough. I'm a grown adult-"

"You really act like it-"

"Because you're so angelic-"

"Where are you going?" It was you that cut in, not paying attention to their argument in the slightest. Leon stopped walking as the two siblings noticed him starting to walk away.

"Home," He said without turning around.

You blurted, "You're going to walk?"

"I'm sure I'll make it home by the time they're done."

"Don't be ridiculous," Claire piped up. "I'll drop you off."

You hid your relief when he turned around and mulled it over before walking over to the truck. Chris ignored the glare Claire leveled at him when he took your seat in the passenger, and you noticed Leon already sitting on the other end of the backseat, head turned toward the window. It was fair, him not being in the mood.

It wasn't a minute into the ride before Claire couldn't stay quiet. "So they just let you go?"

You closed your eyes, hoping Chris would just respond normally. "Looks like it. We're not still in the cell are we?"

"Funny. Why did they, though?"

"I didn't ask. I'm sure all they had to do was look up our names. Maybe do a quick search."

"That's nice and convenient," Claire glanced at him, hands tight on the wheel, "Maybe they should've kept you two imbeciles in there for the night." You opened your mouth to object but Chris beat you to it. You eyed them both and realized he was more upset and tired than he was letting on, and it was a recipe for an argument.

"Imagine I suggested that when you were arrested."

"Tell me what happened tonight," Chris went silent. "What? Clearly it wasn't terrible if they just let you go. I just thought something happened to you-"

"Cool it already. We were in jail, not the morgue."

The car went silent. You shook your head in dismay.

It didn't take him long, all the edge gone from his voice. Only tiredness remained. "Sorry. That was an asshole thing to say."

You watched Claire in worry. She came on strong in these moments, you were well familiar with it by now, but it was her way of trying to seek a foothold.

"Forgiven. I get it. You had a long night."

"It was a bar fight," Both you and Claire looked at Chris. You swiveled to regard Leon, whose head was still turned to face the window. Chris added quietly, "Well, I wouldn't call it that since their execution was such a massive failure."

Leon scoffed in amusement.

Your fingers went to your forehead. Only these two.

"I'm sure it was," The tenseness in Claire's shoulders relaxed. In real time, you witnessed just how much confidence and faith she had in Chris. He could stress her out to the max but a simple sentence could ease her.

You hadn't had that feeling in years.

You turned to face your own window. Claire said, "Next time, try not to get the cops called on you."

"Noted."

"Seriously, I'm sure the two of you are as obvious as flashing billboards."

"They ambushed us."

"Idiots." A pause. Then Claire clarified, "Whoever ambushed you two."

Just like that, they were good. You were glad she had him and he, her.

You took a deep breath, ignoring the hurt in your heart thinking of your own memories.

It wasn't long before you were outside an unfamiliar apartment complex. Leon.

"Thanks," Leon said, pulling open the door. He looked over at you and nodded in farewell before sliding out.

"Don't forget to pick up your car at the bar," Chris called.

Leon didn't say a word as he closed the door. You watched him, hands twitching and heart rate picking up. When Claire's hand went to the stick shift, you asked, "Can you give me a couple minutes?"

You were jogging to catch up. He walked fast, heading for the main doors of the tall building. You barely made it before the door closed and would've likely locked you out. He was at the elevators and stepping in, so you raced to catch him.

The doors were almost closed before you thrust your hand out and they slowly opened. He was leaning his arms out and behind him on the elevator bar, head tilted back. His eyes opened opened and his eyebrows raised as you stepped on, still facing him.

Slightly out of breath, your mind blanked. Just like it had been since the police station, you let your mouth work for itself. "Hey… I just… I wanted to… Your eye." The doors had already closed, the elevator was rising just as your hand was lifting toward his face once you noticed his swelling eye.

"What?" He rushed out at the same time you realized what you were doing, his head moving back in reaction as your hand dropped in your own shock. You clenched your fist, torn between studying his swollen eye or the turmoil rising within you. No time to do either, he relaxed his stance once more as he leaned his head back again. "Oh. That. It was Chris."

Your face fell. "Chris hit you?"

"No. He tripped and elbowed me."

You eyed his relaxed stance and asked, "Are you joking?"

He slowly opened his eyes and just looked at you.

Moving on, you broke eye contact as the elevator came to a stop. Shuffling to the side, you rambled, "You should ice it. If it's already swelling and before-"

"I know."

You peered out the hallway then watched him in your peripheral vision. He didn't move to get off and you wondered what he was thinking. You always wondered what he was thinking. So you whispered, "What were you two thinking?"

Close enough. Maybe you weren't brave after all.

Leon inhaled a deep breath before taking a step forward, hitting the ground floor button and moving to his original spot. "Clearly we weren't."

The two of you faced the doors together. You noticed the distorted reflections of the two in them. Always near, always a distance between. Your brain was telling you to let it go and to stay quiet, but you didn't listen. For once you just let yourself tap into that early morning honesty.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Bruises never hurt anyone."

"I think you're a little misled there," You shook your head.

The side of his mouth lifted slightly and your heart soared. It lowered as he uttered, "I'm sorry we needed the two of you to come to our rescue."

"From the looks of it, neither of you need to be rescued in the slightest." You watched him think about your words as the doors opened on the ground floor and he stepped forward, holding it open for you. You turned and hid your surprise as he stepped off as well, waiting. Waiting for you. "Maybe it's the world that needs to be saved from you two. Chain you up like werewolves."

It was odd how the conversation contained rapid revelations in succession. Your worry for him, your desperation to say something, to have him say anything. To follow after him. Then…

At your comment, he laughed.

In the lobby of his apartment building. Bruised eye, ruffled hair, no sleep. He laughed and you were convinced you had never seen anyone so beautiful as he was in this moment.

The sound of his laugh timed to the racing of your heart so you had to keep going. You had to keep talking. As he moved to walk you back outside, you asked, "Your side okay?" You couldn't trust yourself to stay on topic with him looking like that to you. Not anymore. Not on this night of understanding parts of yourself you wanted to bury.

When you reached the lobby doors, he paused and rotated his arm to stretch out his side. Then he nodded and gave you a thumbs up. "All good, rockstar."

Your lips parted and you stepped out before him, whispering, "I'm pretty sure that's what you are."

"Hey. You're the one keeping an eye on the broken bones."

"You're not in the most reliable line of work for healing up."

"I'll be fine."

You drank him in as his eyes scanned the parking lot. You could see his breaths in white clouds of smoke, and the cheek beneath his swollen eye was reddening from the cold. "Good."

Because you were studying him so closely you noticed right away when his expression changed. It darkened and you tensed, because it reminded you when you'd observed him at a moment where he was alone.

You followed his gaze to see an SUV parked at the curb, backseat window rolling down and a hand sticking out, motioning for someone- for Leon- to come over.

"Who is that?" You whispered.

Leon stepped forward and your hand shot out, grabbing his forearm in alarm. When his gaze jumped to look at your hand, you dropped it. What were you doing? What were- "Leon. What is this?"

His face was different. So were his eyes. He wouldn't look at you, only forward as his voice became detached. "Are we opening up to each other now? Because if that's the case, I'm all ears."

"What-" Your fingers pressed into your forehead as you hissed, "Look what happened tonight! This is not the time right now! Now some sketchy guy is beckoning you over to a car like this is some crime movie."

"Why do you care?"

You spluttered, "Why do I care?"

He was quick. "Yes. Why?" You thought he was disconnected. You thought wrong. When you moved to stand in front of him, his eyes slid down to your face and they were frantic, studying you. You froze. He had you.

"What's going on? What do they want? What do you want?" You weren't sure who those guys were and what you were trying to accomplish but you didn't like this. They weren't good news, showing up here at this time of night and him ready to go to them.

"What do I want?" He repeated, then shook his head.

You pressed. "I don't know what's going on, but you don't have to go to them, do you? So what do you want? What are your goals? Are you just a puppet? You just… you're moving without thinking-"

"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

You were still talking when he cut in and his voice came down on you. You realized what he said and witnessed how he was relentless in looking at you. You hadn't meant to ask if he was just a puppet; it was all going so fast. Your goal?

"I…" He had you.

You were worried about him. You wanted him to turn away from whatever those guys wanted. And he wanted you to tell him why.

His expression shut down and your stomach dropped. His voice went cold again. "You're so quick to write me off but can you even give me what you ask of me yourself? Am I only what you believe me to be? What about you?"

"Stop trying to make this about me," You whispered.

"Don't you get it? This is about you. So tell me. Why do you care?"

"Because!" It was ripped from you, loud and trying to make its escape. You ignored the warnings going off in your head. "Because you're so… you're reckless! You're reckless and alone and maybe that's why tonight happened. Why you break bones, why you're so curious about me. When are you just going to stop? To just let it go?"

A sharp whistle sounded and you whipped your head to look at the SUV. The window was rolling up and the driver got out. He was a giant of a man, bald and rough for the wear as he let his presence be known.

You felt Leon move and you turned to him moving past you. "Wait, Leon-"

"I can't convince you of anything, LUNA. Believe what you want. I've got to go. Puppet strings, remember?"

You wanted to go after him. You watched him move toward the car, the man holding the back door open and Leon sliding inside without hesitation. You did the same to the truck, unable to look away as the SUV drove off.

"You okay?" Claire asked you and you wanted to snap, You should ask Leon if he is!

"Fine. Do you guys know who that is?"

Chris watched the SUV as well before shrugging. "Looks like government."

You felt her before looking up and meeting Claire's gaze in the rearview mirror. She said, "He'll be fine."

Instead of focusing on the self-annoyance building from your failure of a conversation with Leon, you focused on the steadily building truth you'd come to realize.

You were convinced he wasn't fine.

"As much as I want to go to bed, waffles sound heavenly now," Claire said.

Chris' voice had completely lost its bite from earlier. Now he just sounded gruff. "Nothing sounds good right now."

Claire smiled. "All the more reason to grab an early breakfast. Waffles it is."

You were with Chris on this one.

And when you sat down to eat early breakfast with a hungover Chris and a petty Claire, the outside world still dark, you were stuck on the thought of the last time you were in a diner and who you were with- you thought of the shake he had bought you. You thought of the umbrella. You thought of him always looking out for you.

You thought of how you'd sat there and watched him walk toward that SUV.

Notes:

i was really trying to keep a positive attitude in that last update by saying "under the weather" because the day after, i was full blown sick so it's kinda funny reading that now. then it got worse last week. i genuinely think it was the worst cough i've ever had. FINALLY this past Saturday i started feeling better. Sunday i rested the entire day and it started going up from there. yesterday i started hand writing some stuff for the story at work and here i am!

again, i thank you for sticking with the story and leaving me your thoughts. i feel bad some of them were like "I'm excited for the daily updates!" and that's when i disappeared haha. But i am back and feeling a lot better!

i may need a couple more days to recuperate but i'm back to writing the way i've been wanting. i don't know if any of you would be curious to know the time frame for when i'm looking to finish the story. DON'T WORRY, it's not yet close to the end haha. i'll keep the time frame to myself for now.

i missed you and i missed the story so much. so much to come. poor Leon eh? looks like MC is realizing how deep her affection goes lol

- august

Chapter 27: how do i measure up? (xxvii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Coming into work after the weekend, it was evident there was always something building within you. Something to think about, something to worry over, something to do. So little time.

It used to be that you would come into work and all of the debris would settle.

Recently, it only floated in the air and was unable to be avoided, even now as you got situated at your desk.

You needed to focus on preparing for the upcoming mission with Archer. As you worked, your mind kept failing you. Every other minute it traveled out of the room, down the hall, and to someone's office. Was he in today? How was he doing?

Like you summoned him, a few minutes later you paused when you heard his low voice in the room. He and Ingrid were discussing a case. You were glad to know he was okay, the entire weekend spent wondering about him and replaying him getting into the SUV. How was his eye?

So many questions, and the answers inaccessible because of how well you handled the conversation last time.

You would grab coffee, you decided.

Setting down your pen, you picked up your designated work mug Ingrid had gifted you and rose to your feet. You tried not to look, but you were lacking in self control.

Leon was reading the file in his hand, holding up the paper on top. The bruise had darkened, you noted. His eyes trailed upward.

Unprepared, you began to raise your hand in greeting as he returned his attention back down to the paper.

Embarrassed, your hand never made it all the way up as you continued onto the break room. You stopped when you were in front of the coffee pot, heart racing and stomach twisting. Leon hadn't ignored you, he just hadn't bothered to look long enough to know you were going to greet him.

Puppet strings, remember?

Tell him yours and he'd tell you his.

You had failed him, hadn't you?

Frowning, a closer look at the coffee maker indicated it was still broken. "Shit."

You carried your empty mug back to your desk, finding it difficult to avoid looking at Leon but managing it. Bottom line was he had continued to show you who he was; he was willing to be a friend. What had you shown him? That you would push him away whenever he poked a little too close. Maybe he was tired of it all, maybe he was tired of you.

You gritted your teeth, knowing you were in the midst of your self pity: justifying not making it right. However, you couldn't blame yourself. Theepeople you had relied on in the past had turned their backs on you in the worst moments of your life.

But he hadn't.

Leon wasn't them.

You're right, Carlos. I do have a knack for getting in over my head.

Looking down at the work in front of you, you forced it all out of your mind. You had to. Picking up your pen once more, you read a sentence and then you read it again and again until you retain what you were reading and succeed in finding your focus.

When lunch came, you slipped out before Ingrid spotted you. You had every intention to be back soon anyway, so you didn't bother explaining. At this point, this specific errand was second nature and you could now do it on autopilot.

You had already returned to the office and were on your way up when you thought about just how absent-minded you had been when you'd gone out. You scolded yourself, body stiffening thinking of the masked man watching you and being inside your apartment. No more distractions. You had to stay focused until you were in a safe space not to be. End of story.

Sparing a glance toward the desk area, you headed the opposite way, steps heavy but sure as you came to a stop in front of Leon's office. You'd been here before and had been carrying a different kind of stress. You looked down at the coffee in your hands. Raising your head, you knocked on the door. Silence. You waited a bit, then knocked again. Still silent.

You glanced backward. Last time, you had decided to just enter.

You turned the door handle and pushed it open.

It was empty.

Okay. It didn't mean this had failed, and it wasn't like you were hoping a coffee would make everything okay. In fact, you couldn't deny the slight relief of not seeing him in the room. What if he did ignore you? What if he told you he was done trying to get through to you-

You cringed at your thoughts. You were screwed, weren't you? Always worried about him in some capacity.

Stepping inside, you decided to just leave the coffee. It didn't matter, and you didn't have time to sit here and obsess over what the next time will be like. You had to be an adult-

Your hand paused, coffee cup hovering over his desk. Pulling it back to your body, you knew you were being cowardly leaving it here when he wasn't around. Dusting off your hands. Avoiding fully going through with it.

He deserved more.

You had failed him and a coffee didn't fix it, but it could mean you were working on it.

You couldn't give him more of you, you knew it. You didn't want to be a part of his stress, though.

"Hey."

Ingrid turned around in her chair. "Hey! I was wondering where you went!" She got to her feet, reaching for her lunchbox. "I just gotta warm up my lunch and then… is that coffee?"

You nodded, wordlessly handing over her order and noting her eyes light up as you asked, "Do you know where Leon is? I brought one for him, too. He's not in his office."

She sipped at her drink as she hummed in thought. "Mmm, I'm not 100% sure. He could be in a meeting or he could've left. I know sometimes, though, he goes to the second floor courtyard. Especially since the building has more designated smoking areas, not a lot of people go out there anymore. I've found him there before."

"Where is that?" You hadn't heard of it.

"I can show you."

On the way to the elevator, you half listened as she said, "He's annoying about not eating lunch, so at first I thought he went there to eat. But really, I think he just goes there to get away."

He was always so busy and on the go, you didn't consider there would be a place for him to go get some space, especially at work.

The second floor was a different world. It was quieter than your floor, with different teams and departments. They didn't care to look at the two of you as you made your way through the building. Soon, Ingrid led you to an unimpressive door, a small square window the only character it had.

"Here it is." She peered outside and then nodded. "Yup. He's here." She moved back and you took her place, looking outside.

The courtyard was as impressive as the door. Dead trees and dead bushes, dirt-ridden and rusted benched tables. Leon was sitting on top of one of the tables, back toward the door. You studied him, not wearing a coat despite the cold, so still.

"The thing about him is," You turned and Ingrid nodded toward the window, "People either idolize him or leave him alone because they think he's all good on his own. No matter what. It's always people deciding for him. I wonder what he would decide. Or if he would be happy to just be a part of something."

Her words were wind chimes, ringing in your ears.

You're reckless and alone and maybe that's why tonight happened. Why you break bones, why you're so curious about me. When are you just going to stop? To just let it go?

His words struck you too. You're so quick to write me off but can you even give me what you ask of me yourself? Am I only what you believe me to be? I can't convince you of anything, LUNA. Believe what you want.

Even knowing he wasn't what people made of him, you still managed to convince him that you only saw him the way everyone else did.

It bubbled up inside of you. Something always building.

You faced Ingrid.

She saw your look and hers grew serious. There was no handle in forcing it all down anymore as you said, "I screwed up."

"What happened?" She was careful. Always was. You didn't hear her.

"I keep on saying the wrong things. I keep hurting him… I convinced myself I wasn't but I want to be there for him and I just… I don't know how to do that for anyone anymore. It's been so long since I…"

The words were stuck and you wanted to claw them out. You wanted it to be easy. As you struggled, Ingrid's voice was low and reassuring. You found the handle in her words.

"Don't be so unforgiving of yourself. When we all go through things, it's never easy to be as open and as loving as we once were. It's admirable, what you're saying."

"What? How much I suck at being there for someone? At being a good friend?"

"No. How aware you are. Have you tried being honest? Even if it's just small like, 'I'm here for you.' or 'I care about you.'" You hadn't tried that. You wondered if you said those things, would he think you were lying?

Every time you'd gotten close to it, you had chosen to lie and act like you didn't care instead.

It's inevitable coming to terms with what you were feeling. Every time you'd cared about someone, they'd let you down. Not only that, your life wasn't exactly stable to be exposing others to…

Did that mean that anyone and everyone who came along deserved to be punished?

Maybe you'd spent this time trying to find a fault in him when it was really you. You had called him alone. You were the one who didn't know what it was not to be.

The thought struck so true, you were rocked into the pain of it. Glancing out the window, you did a double take as you froze at the sight of Leon getting to his feet. "He's coming."

"What?" Ingrid asked.

"He's coming inside!"

Your panic sent Ingrid into one, her latching onto your hand and pulling you into the nearby room, which happened to be a small supply closet. You stumbled into the shelf, hissing in pain as you slammed your elbow when refusing to drop the coffee . She nearly cried out as you stepped on her foot and you hushed her, her clasping your throbbing arm as you both quieted in the dark.

The sound of the heavy door closing creaked out and footsteps retreated down the hall.

The two of you waited a few beats in the dark.

"I think he's gone," You whispered.

"Can't believe that worked."

"Thanks?" You said, because you wondered how silly the two of you looked to be hiding from Leon.

"Of course. I'm not a reliable agent for nothing."

You led the way back into the hall, blinking from the darkness you two had rushed into.

"Let's go eat. That's enough adventure for today," Ingrid announced and you matched her pace as you attempted to collect yourself from the frazzled excitement.

"You really do have fast instincts," You said.

"You think?" Ingrid asked.

You were nodding and she was looking at you as the two of you turned the corner, running straight into Leon. You cursed quietly and Ingrid gasped, hands flying to her chest as he straightened from where he was leaning on the wall.

"If you wanted to join me outside, you could've just asked."

"Don't do that," Ingrid's voice raised before she noted her surroundings. You were too busy trying not to gawk at him as you gripped the cup so tight you nearly made it explode. "Do you really have to scare us like that?"

He tilted his head. "Me? Scare you?"

"Point taken," Ingrid crossed her arms, lunchbox dangling from her arm. "We weren't spying on you, if that's what you're thinking."

"I'm not."

"We were just delivering something, is all."

Leon studied her, arms crossed and face unreadable. Your eyes trailed over him. Aside from the bruised eye, he looked… well. He didn't look stiff like he was with his broken bone, or exhausted like he had been recently. His lips had a little color to him, his arms were tightened and muscular as usual. He was okay. Whatever the SUV ride meant, it hadn't harmed him in any way.

"That for me?" When he addressed you so suddenly, you were caught off guard. His finger was pointed at the cup in your hand, and with a startle you saw the shift in his gaze. Had he noticed you studying him? He probably did.

He didn't say anything else and you stumbled out, "Yes," You cleared your throat and held it out to him, "Yes it is." Leon grabbed it from you and you didn't move as his fingers skimmed over yours. You pulled yourself together as he tasted it. You wanted to keep talking to him. You had so much you wanted to say. Instead, you just said whatever. "Black. Just like you like it."

"That I do." He lowered the cup. "Thanks."

You were the slightest more prepared when he looked at you this time. No indication of resentment or anger was on his face, and you almost wished it was; you figured you deserved that. Instead, he looked at you the way he always did. You broke eye contact first, turning to Ingrid. "You ready?"

"Yes. I'll meet you up there, though. I have a couple things to go over about our case."

You nodded, Leon moving aside to let you walk past. You kept your eyes down.

As you walked away, hearing them talk about the case, you gripped the sugar packets tight in your pocket.

You'd never figured out how he did like his coffee, and you'd never asked.

Maybe he liked sugar.

If you heeded Ingrid's advice? If you figured out a way or a meaning to opening up? You'd start there.

For now, you held the sugar packets tight in your fists.

"...And regarding the transportation, I was considering…" Even though he was watching you walk away from the corner of his eye, he was listening to Hunnigan. In fact, it was why he was shocked into full attention when she abruptly cut off the second you were out of earshot. Her voice dropped in an impression, "'That I do. Thanks.' You don't like black coffee, last I checked."

He blinked. He was used to Hunnigan calling him out, but not like this. "Uh-"

"You hang around clearly wanting to talk to her after you knew we were here, and then you just accept the coffee?"

"I'm not going to make a fuss about it. She got this for me."

Hunnigan's passion for the subject fizzled out as her head moved back in reaction. "Huh. So it's not a matter of… avoidance…" He raised his eyebrows in question. She shook her head. "Nothing. You just… you surprise me."

"Well. Was this supposed to be something else? Weren't you just delivering the coffee?"

She turned her back to him, moving to leave. She came to a stop. Without looking at him, she said, "LUNA's a pillar for this team. But I worry about her. Both of you don't need to be your own enemies. Be there for each other."

Leon had always been aware of Hunnigan's heart. With your arrival, it became a lot more vocal. She was truly something.

"You sure you're in the right field?" He asked, because he had hardly figured out how to articulate his feelings to himself, let alone to someone else.

She looked over her shoulder with a sneer. "Don't be insulting."

"It was a compliment."

"Remember what I said."

Leon swallowed. He did know one thing- friends deserved to know one's gratitude. He hadn't really had friends, but still. He couldn't help his playful sarcasm as the two of them headed for the elevator. "My own enemy. Who would've thought?"

"Aren't we all?" She asked as she hit the elevator button.

"Hey," She paused as they stepped onto the elevator. He said, "Thanks. I know you don't have to say all of… this."

"I don't," She agreed. "Maybe do the same for me if ever necessary and we'll be even."

"Highly doubt you'd ever need it."

"I know. What am I even saying?" His mouth twitched. "Just take care of yourself, Leon."

When he settled in at his desk, he stared at the coffee cup in his hand.

The image of you standing there studying him downstairs warmed his skin.

A contrast to the cold that had burrowed in him since the weekend. After being released from jail and his conversation with you, he had mostly been on autopilot. Taylor was his typical patronizing self but had kept it straight forward: for the weekend, the government wanted him to infiltrate a domestic organization. It was light work for him, so he poured all of his energy into it.

Coming back home yesterday evening, he had showered and went straight to bed.

There was you, of course.

Creeping up on him in his dreams, or when his mind did manage to trail for the briefest intervals during the mission. His brain tortured him with the memory of your hand raising to his face over and over, how his instincts moved him away yet his heart jumped in excitement. When he was asleep, he didn't have the control to maintain his thoughts and picked up from there, creating the sensation of your fingers trailing over his cheek, down his neck. His own fingers coming up and tracing along your lips, down your collarbone.

His weekend mission was exhausting, especially after the fiasco with Chris and he welcomed the sleep that crashed over him once he got home. He wished his dreams didn't overwhelm his senses with you. He woke this morning to the slightest memory of your perfume, of your eyes peeling him away piece by piece.

As he worked today, it was your voice he heard in his head. The reality of you was different from his dreams.

You're reckless and alone and maybe that's why tonight happened. Why you break bones, why you're so curious about me. When are you just going to stop? To just let it go?

Maybe you were the sharpshooter between the two of you.

The end of the day came quickly. He wasn't planning on leaving yet, but he'd battled the urge to see you. There was a lot unspoken between you. Maybe you'd never lean on him; maybe his destiny was to be alone. What did that say about him, how eager he was to still be near you regardless?

You had cut deep. He was mad, yes. Mad at you? He didn't know. Mad at his puppet strings he'd never be cut loose from? That was the issue. You had shone a light on them when he'd spent so long learning to be okay with it.

What did he want? What were his goals?

He didn't know. He didn't have any.

And it killed him now.

It killed him to be served that reminder.

He was mad. And he wanted to see you.

You were already gone from your desk. Hunnigan was gathering her belongings. She noticed him.

"She just left. We could probably catch her."

He nodded. The two of them left together and on the ride down, Hunnigan mused aloud, "I think Scary Hunk is picking her up today."

Leon didn't say anything.

That was the plan at least. Keeping his gaze trained forward, he casually asked, "Who is he?"

"I don't know. She was very vague about it. He's this tall, muscular guy with dark hair. Very… rugged handsome, you know? Honestly, I was surprised."

The description sunk in and he realized his jaw ached from clenching his teeth. Straightening his head, he forced out, "Surprised?"

"I don't know. Can't judge. I didn't imagine her with someone like that. People surprise you, though, right?"

"Right."

He noticed her turn to look at him then face forward. She was sly, he'd give her that.

Scary Hunk was Chris.

He was convinced, now.

The elevator doors opened and he waited for her to step off before the two of them made for the exit.

She stopped him as they got to the doors. "I don't mean to rub it in. She's not dating him. Just so you know."

"I told you, it's none of my business."

"Do I have to spell everything out for you? It definitely is your business. The way the two of you look at each other?" She whistled through her teeth for dramatic effect. "So either catch up or wait too long and it won't be anymore."

"You've got a serious meddling problem, Hunnigan."

"What else would make this boring work routine worth it?"

He pushed open the door, in near disbelief at how forward she was being. As she stepped out, he noticed you sitting on the nearby and short brick wall, work shoes dangling precariously off your feet. He cracked a smile at the sight.

"Night, Kennedy."

"Goodnight."

He hung back a moment, and then your previous words crept up on him in his hesitation. They'd struck true and it unraveled him. It was too much to decode. He was mad, he was a cocktail of complicated emotions and so he settled on the most vivid: his desire to be near you.

His attention refocused when he heard a ringtone and you picked up your cell phone. He heard your quiet greeting and then saw your feet stop bouncing. The way you froze chilled him straight to the bone.

Leon was already at your side when you shakily tried getting to your feet. Your shoes were half off but you hadn't noticed. His hand steadied your elbow. "What happened? LUNA?"

Your eyes were blank as your hand dropped, phone hanging from it and head turning toward him. You were blinking and not seeing him.

"LUNA, talk to me. What is it?"

Your face registered him and then split as your body lurched into a sob. "Claire. Claire's been in an accident."

His arm went around your shoulders as you moved toward him and his hand wrapped around your phone. The call was still going and he held it up. "Hello?" He listened for a moment then asked, "Chris?"

Chris' voice was nearly unrecognizable as he whispered, "Leon."

Notes:

please don't hate me

- august

Chapter 28: the kids we used to be (xxviii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There was leaving work for the day.

Waiting for Chris to pick you up.

There was the call. How odd Chris' tone was, how your body became heavy from the news long before your brain registered what was being said.

In the next moment, you were at a desk asking for Claire Redfield.

They typed at the computer and you watched them, unblinking.

"She's not receiving visitors."

You squinted, digested the words. "I can't see her?"

"Are you family of the patient?"

"I'm not." Instead of confidence and surety, the words were shaky and lost.

"You'll have to wait."

"But I have to see her."

"M'am-"

"Hey," A voice slid over you and the stiffness in your lungs loosened the slightest. Leon was beside you. He had been this entire time. "Let's sit." His two words were confidence and surety, not shaky and lost.

You let him lead you to the waiting area.

The sound of your breathing irritated you. The room was stuffy and hot. How much time had passed? You looked up at the clock. Only four minutes.

Rubbing at your palms, you moved to picking at your fingernails as the morning came to mind. You hadn't seen her before you left for work. Had she left before you? Why didn't you check in on her?

How bad was it?

Looking up at the clock, why had only two more minutes passed?

How come you weren't there for her the one time she needed you?

Not her. Please not her-

Your thoughts quieted and fizzled out. The sound of your breaths fell away as the warmth of Leon's hand encased the top of yours. You frowned down at it, the muscles of his arms ticking and you breathed in. On your exhale, you flipped your hand over and your fingers intertwined with his. You held onto him; he held on back. His hand was warm and calloused. Your breaths continued on as he kept his hand in yours.

You stayed like that.

Leon's head turned first and then yours did as you shot to your feet seeing Chris stiffly entering the waiting room. His short hair was a mess. He looked aged.

"She's awake."

You were right on his heels, so close that you tumbled into him when he stopped in the doorway of the room. He didn't move, even when you were up against him. Taking a step back, you looked at the back of his head before he moved to the side and your eyes slid over.

To her.

Wild, vibrant, fierce.

Broken.

Eyes closed, face bruised and bandaged.

Arm, leg in a cast.

Fragile.

Broken.

"She, uh," Chris' quiet voice was distracted, "She was awake. She must've, uh, fell asleep."

You were nodding, nodding so much. Inhaling sharply, you forced your feet to move.

At her side, it was worse.

There were scratches on her face even without the bandages on her cheek and forehead. There were casts on her left arms and legs, her hair down and face lacking color. So still. So unlike her. Was this real?

Why was your face hot?

Oh.

"What happened?"

"Motorcycle accident. Couldn't avoid a car on the road and she swerved. Went rolling into a ditch. Witness helped her." You looked to Chris on the other side of the bed. He was squinting down at her, body so taut and live wire. Nearly set off.

You looked back down at her, hearing movement behind you to see Leon had moved a chair for you to sit in. You sat down.

Chris blinked, blinked again. He sat down in a chair on the other side, face softening when he looked at Claire's face before it twisted and he got to his feet. He sniffed, taking a step back and tilting his head slightly back. "I need some air."

You tensed, looking at her and the weight of the room shifting heavy on you. "What if she wakes up and-"

He wasn't seeing anyone. Hearing anyone. His stare unwavering on her the more he was wavering in and out. Mind made up, he turned and headed for the door. His voice was smoke. "I'll be back."

"Chris-"

A hand found your shoulder. His hand had never touched you there yet you recognized the weight, the warmth, the steadiness. Breath escaped your lungs as his low voice filtered down to you, "I'll go with him."

Don't leave me.

You nodded, squeezing your eyes closed.

You couldn't look at her anymore.

"Claire," You whispered, lips quivering. Eyes refusing to open as your shoulders began to shake.

There was a sharp pain behind your eyes, a sand bag in your chest.

An accident. An accident almost took her away.

Your head was down and you raised your fingers, skimming her bruised knuckles. Slipping your hand into hers, you lowered your head to the bed. It was hard to breathe but you didn't move.

Fingers squeezed yours gently and you picked your head up, blinking your burning eyes.

Hers were slightly opened and looking at you.

"Hey," She whispered.

"Hey."

"Tell me I look badass."

You shook your head and tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a cry. You kept shaking your head until you were sure you wouldn't shatter. "You're okay."

She gave the smallest smile. Then tilted her head back. "Hurts a little."

You resisted the urge to look at the casts. "You should rest."

Her eyes were already closing. "Okay."

Her breaths were even.

Yours weren't.

She was awake. She was herself.

She almost wasn't.

How the fuck were you supposed to move on from that?

Suddenly the short breaths you were taking had you understanding Chris' sudden urgency to get air. The chair squeaked. You reached for the door, pulled the handle, opened it slightly then paused.

"...she's strong. Stronger than what happened. And you'll both be okay."

"It's fucked." Chris. Someone was slamming an ice pick in your heart because he sounded so unlike himself. "It was an accident and… that, I can't protect her from. It means I fail, Leon. If the best of us is gone…"

"She's not and she won't be." There was silence. Then, "Chris… you're a good brother."

Instead of responding, Chris' voice resembled more of its usual cadence when he said, "I'm going to stay with her tonight. Will you make sure LUNA gets home safe?"

"Of course."

When you heard the door open, you were near the end of Claire's hospital bed, hugging your torso. Dropping your arms, you turned and silently wondered why Chris was alone.

"He went to grab coffee," He explained.

You nodded. Chris grabbed his seat at her side. He was wearing a jacket that was vaguely familiar to you though you'd never seen it. His hair was still a mess. His throat bobbed, eyes not moving from her face.

"She was awake. Just briefly." You laughed because you were doing everything to keep it together. The thread was so worn, on the verge of snapping. "Asked if she looks badass."

"Her comedic timing has always needed a little work."

When it was too much to look at her, you watched him watch her. Most of the time spent around the two meant you were subjected to their arguing and their blatant closeness. They were a balancing scale, two weights steadying and battling each other. You had never seen the look on his face now, a mixture between a despair you wished to never see again and a look… so tender.

His throat bobbed again. Reaching forward, he moved a strand of hair that was hanging in her face. "You know, one of the only times I've ever seen her cry was when we were kids. We were riding our bikes together. We were fucking around too much and she accidentally nicked my bike and we both went rolling down a hill. She broke her ankle and I hit my head. Didn't even get knocked out. And she was a mess, broke down into tears. She had a broken bone and she was crying because she saw me hit my head."

Worried about someone else when she was in pain. Sounds like her.

Chris finally looked away and weighed you down with his stare. "Which is why I worry about you. You're her family. Means you're mine, too. Open up to me or not. Families protect each other. We take care of her," His attention goes back to her sleeping face, "She takes care of us."

Carlos and Chris would get each other, wouldn't they?

The sandbag in your chest burst.

Your whisper. "I have a brother… You remind me of him, sometimes." His eyebrows raised. So tender. Too much. "She's family. We'll take care of her."

"And us, you." He didn't look at you anymore. "Leon is going to take you home."

Home. Claire's. Leon. Chris.

"Okay."

Carlos. Carlos. Carlos.

Chris looking at Claire, broken.

You looking at Carlos, gone.

Claire hurt.

Carlos hurt.

Alone.

You had a family.

You were alone.

Claire was hurt.

Carlos was hurt, wasn't he?

You were hurt.

A hand, a cup, the scent of coffee.

You breathed in sharply, hand grabbing it on instinct, skimming his fingers.

"It'll keep you warm," Leon was quiet.

How did he know you were cold?

You looked into his eyes; you found a handle. The weight was gone. He was frozen… you had frozen him? Why was he looking at you like that?

"Thank you."

He nodded once. The look was gone.

You turned forward. Chris and Claire.

You and Carlos.

You were not alone.

She was going to be okay.

Before you left, she woke up. Made another terrible joke and all three of you didn't bother to laugh. Leon topped her joke with a corny one of his own. Chris almost looked like he wanted to smile. The nurse dropped by. You hung back with Leon.

Your pinky brushed his on accident.

It did again.

When Claire talked about her pain with the nurse and they described her injuries, your hand shot out and gripped his wrist tightly. He let you. When you let go, he brushed his pinky on yours. It wasn't an accident.

The two of you didn't look at each other.

He was standing beside you and when you were losing your balance he was his own anchor.

Not a puzzle. Not a problem.

You were breathing again.

She was still awake when visiting hours were ending. She whispered to you about your recent nightly routines of watching MTV music videos and how she would forgive you if you watched with Leon until she was released.

"Never. I'm your groupie. I can't listen to music with anyone else."

Claire smiled.

You kissed her forehead and focused all of your energy on making sure your lips weren't trembling.

You squeezed Chris' shoulder as you walked past.

Every step away from her were some of the hardest steps you'd taken.

Every step, you noted, Leon was with you.

In the car, the radio was playing.

An all too familiar Mary J. Blige song came on.

Looking out the passenger window, cheek resting on your cheek, you said, "My brother liked this song."

Notes:

this one was really sad. it got to me.

i discussed claire's injuries with my boyfriend. his insight was incredibly helpful.

writing it out was quite the ride for me.

- august

Chapter 29: anywhere i want, just not home (xxix)

Notes:

thank you for all the support and sharing your thoughts. you don't understand how much it means to me and how i'm thankful and thrilled you're enjoying the journey. with work and life, things are a little hectic currently for daily updates but know i am constantly writing and brainstorming for this, so updates will remain consistent. daily updates are still my own expectation i set on myself, but i also don't want to pressure myself and have it either come out in a way i'm unsatisfied, start to not be enjoyable to write, or become burnt out. this is precious to me so i am being very protective of the experience. thank you for being so kind and understanding!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The longest days of one's life, in retrospect, are the most vivid and painful ghosts left behind.

It was dark in the guest bedroom Claire had made up for you. You didn't bother with the lights. Atop the comforter, shoes still on, the skin beside your eyes wet, you tried to imagine Carlos' handwriting on that small sticky note. Never shrink.

With every shaky and painful breath, you tried to find strength. The strength he said you'd always had, the strength you always seemed to lose in the moments it should've counted the most.

Claire's house was much bigger, quieter, lonelier without her here.

Curling up, you dozed off before the tears stopped running.

Someone was shaking your shoulder, chanting your name.

You woke up, still atop the comforter. The room was still dark. You blinked confused, fumbling for the bedside lamp and flicking it on. You froze at who was sitting at the edge of the bed.

Carlos' mouth was pulled up in the slightest grin.

You were on the rise and fall of a rollercoaster. Your vision went blurry as you croaked, "What are you doing here?"

Why were you confused? What happened? Why was he here-

"Why am I here? Aw, you're supposed to be the genius of the family. Come on, let's go! We're going to be late." Carlos shook your leg before getting up. He walked backward toward the door, pausing. "Bad dream?"

You wiped roughly at your face. You couldn't remember why you were upset. You followed him out. Claire's house was lit up in every room. That was unusual but you caught up to Carlos as he was at the front door.

"Why were you yelling?"

"Move-Out Day! Come on, now! I could shed a tear."

You crossed your arms and realized you were wearing his- which you stole and made yours- favorite hoodie from when he played football back in high school. "I didn't forget, jackass! I was making sure you remembered."

"Sure." He patted his old beat up jeep. "Well?"

You glanced back, saw the little dingy apartment the two of you grew up in. Not bothering to say a word to your parents. You turned back to him. "Let's go."

On the road, he was tapping his hands on the wheel and humming along to the staticky radio. You tried to act annoyed but ended up singing along under your breath.

"You know, I still have every intention of meeting this Charlie guy. You can't weasel your way out of it for long."

What? How did he know you were dating Charlie already? Weren't you moving in to the dorms?

Your smile faded and you looked over at him. Same old Carlos. Hair a whole mess of a nest that he claims charms women. Humongous arms and a gigantic ego to match. Dog tags glimmering in the sunlight. "Stop pushing it. Charlie is…" Charlie thinks it's too much pressure to meet the most important person in your life.

"...Charlie thinks he's cute," Carlos huffed. "I know a dick when I see one."

"You've never seen him."

"Well I know a dick when I've heard of one."

"That doesn't make any sense-"

"Okay, well, when have you met a Charlie that's actually a good guy?" He keeps glancing over at you, eyes wide and voice theatrical.

You thought about it. "I feel like every Charlie I've known and heard of is a good guy."

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Not this one."

"Let's not talk about romantic partners with your track record."

"You notice you always deflect to me?"

"Well, when are you going to be upfront with me and stop waiting until the last possible second to tell me when you're being deployed?"

The music in the car was gone. The car wasn't moving even though Carlos' hands were on the wheel. He shook his head.

You'd crossed a line.

When you looked over at his face, this overwhelming rush of desperation washed over you. He was stepping out of the jeep. His jeep. The jeep you hadn't seen in years. You stumbled out after him only to find yourself in a sea of freshman orientation. "Carlos! Carlos!"

You were frantic. There was only a blur of people. You saw Carlos up ahead, heading toward your dorm. That's right, he was visiting for the weekend. You already guessed he had only made time to come visit because he was probably leaving for work again and wanted to avoid telling you.

"Carlos!" You cried out. Your feet were moving the speed of molasses.

You rushed into your dorm. The desk light was still on, textbook still open for your final. Your chest was aching as if you'd run a marathon. "Carlos?"

The bathroom door creaked open and the small space had you retreating into the room as Carlos stepped out, wiping his hands on the hand towel. "Relax, I needed the bathroom."

"There's something I have to tell you."

Carlos eyed you. He never showed his worry, ever. He had always been the collected one between the two of you until he wasn't. In your breakdowns, however, he always kept a level head. You still spotted his signature ridge between his brows as he wondered. "There's something I need to tell you, too."

"Wait. It's important. I just…" You trailed off, eyes going to your desk. To the bulletin board. Pictures of you and Charlie. Of your friends. Carlos. A photo of you and Claire. Claire? You looked at him. "Where are you?"

"I wanted to tell you… to never shrink. And don't pull your punches. I left it on the note," He pointed at the pink sticky note on the bulletin board.

Your throat was in pain as you tried to get past the tears. Please, please listen. "I know. I got your note," You whispered.

"And don't you remember? Our phone call?"

"What phone call?"

"I've gotta go," Carlos looked over his shoulder and then he was already out in the hall.

"Wait!" You started after him. Where was he going? Where was he? Why were you back here? You graduated ages ago, and he wasn't there. He hasn't been there. He wasn't here. "Carlos!" You screamed so loud down the dorm hallway, and he didn't turn. He disappeared around the corner.

Your feet wouldn't move.

"Don't go."

Your head was throbbing when you woke up. The clock read 5:28 AM. When you wiped at the sides of your eyes, they were wet. Shivering, you sat up and saw you were still in yesterday's clothes.

You'd made it to the next day, the day after Claire's accident.

It still felt like you were stuck in a nightmare.

You had dreamt about Carlos again, and though your limbs were tired and your head was killing you, your heart was aching and couldn't handle dreaming of him again. You also couldn't handle the silence, so you changed into sweats and a T-shirt. Rubbing your arms, you pulled open your dresser drawer and your hand paused on the hoodie that had appeared in your dreams. MUSTANGS written across it. Your fingers ran over it. You pulled out a different sweater before heading into the dark house and switching on the television.

The television made the emptiness of the house the slightest more bearable. You returned to the image of Claire in the hospital bed. A broken collarbone, broken leg, bruised ribs. It was bad and somehow could've been worse.

One leg curled up on the couch, you stared at the television blankly.

You waited.

Drank your coffee.

You dreaded going into work and ached to be with Claire. At the same time, you dreaded seeing her in that bed.

Getting ready an hour and a half in advance, you needed to get out of the house. You were out of there the second you finished shrugging on a coat, internally making up an excuse about picking yourself up a croissant. Or a crepe. Claire likes crepes.

You were at the little cafe in the neighborhood. There were people here, even if it was early. There always was. In line, you saw people there by themselves. The old man in the corner reading a book. A young woman not that much older than you cupping her coffee. What looked like a student writing something down.

You couldn't swallow.

You weren't alone… were you?

"Hello. What would you like today?"

You looked up and ordered a strawberry crepe. They gave you the price and you pulled out your wallet, flipping it open and pulling out cash. Something crept beneath your skin but your attention was drawn back up as you handed over the money.

Waiting off to the side, you closed your eyes, breathed in and out and focused on the action. Claire was okay.

They called your name and you stepped forward, pausing when you saw there were two crepes instead of one. You opened your mouth to say something and looked back at the worker. She was offering a shy smile, "Hope you have a nice day."

Did you look that sad?

"Thank you."

Stepping outside, sun barely in the sky, you bit into the warmth and sweetness, comforted in the taste and temperature.

You looked back at the cafe, chewing slowly as you thought of how you had tensed in there for a moment. You considered it, thinking of what would make you react that way…

Pulling out your wallet, you frowned down at it.

Something made you not want to open it.

With your free hand, you flipped it open like you usually did. A habit you had developed in the recent years and had only broken when you had to take Carlos' photo out. Once you had, you hadn't put in a replacement.

So why were you staring at the photo of you and Claire from your birthday a couple years ago?

Mouth mid-chew, you stared down at it.

Your skin crawled. Your appetite was gone. Wide awake now, you rushed to the nearest trash can and spit out the bite in your mouth.

It didn't take you long to arrive back at Claire's house. Chest heaving, standing at the front door, your feet were stones. Your hand gripped the wallet in your pocket. The photo you hadn't placed inside it still there.

Pulling out your keys, you slid them into the lock.

Your head. Was still. Throbbing.

You left the front door unlocked, finding it a little easier to step inside. It was how you left it. It was how Claire left it. You walked over to the bookshelf. You picked up the picture frame, the one that previously held the photo of you and Claire. The photo strip was one engraved in your brain. The top square, ugly and twisted face of yours beside Carlos who held you in a headlock. The bottom square, Carlos' big grin at the camera.

The sound of the glass frame shattering startled you; you had thrown it at the wall. You walked over to see the glass tears littering the floor. Crouching down, you reached out and winced when a piece cut your hand, ignoring it as you pulled the photo strip out of the wreckage.

Heart in your ears, throat, stomach, you flipped it over.

Suspecting but hoping not.

LET GO was scrawled in the same handwriting from that first photo of Carlos in his military uniform. It was written heavily, like it had been traced several times.

Trembling, one hand flipped open the wallet as your bloodied fingers pulled out the stuffed-in photo of you and Claire.

Suspecting but hoping with every piece of your being not.

On the back, written in that same handwriting was LOSE.

Your trembling fingers found your lips as you silently cried.

Claire's accident was your fault.

Somehow, you got to your feet. The living room was spinning. In one hand hung the photo of you and Claire, in the other you and Carlos.

You were alone.

You must be.

You need to be because… Claire was hurt because of you. Because of what you were doing. Whoever was watching you, planting these… they had hurt her.

Without realizing it, you were packing your things. You didn't have much to pack; you had avoided going to your place all this time. It hadn't been that long, anyway. Halfway through you realized how your palm was hurting and you could hardly avoid getting blood on your things, so you stopped to clean it and slap a bandaid on it. On your way out, you swept up the glass and tossed it out.

By the time you were heading to your apartment, you were out of tears and reasoning with yourself. Outside your front door, you were gripping onto your bag and sucking your lip into your mouth.

Heart thrumming in your ears you pushed inside.

Just like you left it.

Colder. More shadowed. Quiet.

You sat down with your back to the front door, staring into your apartment. Exhausted. The day had barely begun and it was already too much.

All these months and you were worse than you'd started in this risk of finding your brother.

Claire…

Carlos…

You rested your head on your knees.

The longest days of one's life, in retrospect, are the most vivid and painful ghosts left behind.

Notes:

this... was yet another heavy and sad chapter. believe it or not, i'm sorry to put you through it. this is an angsty story (,: we will get through it together. please let me know your thoughts and feelings if you'd like! the dream scene was really interesting for me to write because i am someone who has very wild and vivid dreams and i made sure to keep it tame but realistic as to how dreams can be: confusing but make sense in the dream themselves, a mix of reality and nonsense. writing carlos is so bittersweet.

one last question i have is, i'm curious since i'm struggling a bit with this. what style would you think leon has casual wise? and even dressing up nice? it's particularly tricky for me since it's technically taking place in the early 2000s. please let me know if there's any headcanons you have on his fashion sense or what you'd think would be an outfit he'd wear! i'll look it up myself, i'm so curious. and it may even be featured in this story since there are scenes being formed with these things in mind.

gosh, i always talk too much in the notes. thank you if you read these haha

- august

Chapter 30: something's in my mind and i'm focused on you (xxx)

Notes:

i LOVED your suggestions and thoughts on Leon's style. Y'all have taste haha, and I was LEVITATING with these ideas. It's also really interesting and a little funny that everyone's opinions could be so different! I love it, because I can see and agree with those different perspectives. Thank you! I am definitely inspired and honestly outside of writing, i've been so curious about what his style would be.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Goals. Tasks. Responsibilities. Expectations.

Results. Results. Results. Results.

Leon's life had been a succession of action and outcome for so long, there was often comfort in knowing what was expected of him.

In fact, there wasn't a time when some form of pressure wasn't on his shoulders, even when he was young and his parents were alive.

Even now. His day to day was as surprising as flipping through a filing cabinet. Different threats, different dangers, unpredictability- all of it recognizable.

He didn't know what to make of the rocking of his life, of being thrown off his axis every time he thought of you. Maybe he fooled himself into thinking he had found a foothold in his determination to support you, but he didn't realize the real foolishness was thinking he'd ever be satisfied again.

Maybe that's why internally there was a clash of storms raging even though he had to stay still

You were supposed to be in to work and you hadn't shown up.

Sitting in the conference room, hand covering the bottom of his face, he watched the hallway outside the blinded windows near the closed door. Hunnigan had pulled him aside right as he was entering for the debriefing, face taut as she said, "LUNA hasn't shown up for work. The Director is furious."

"What?" His voice had dipped so low, expression stunning Hunnigan to freeze for a moment before collecting herself.

"I'll try calling her again. It's going to be fine." It was the first time she didn't sound convincing.

45 minutes later and he was still staring at the door. Waiting to leave. Waiting to find you.

He should've checked that you'd come in this morning. He was usually here before you and left after you, so he never thought twice about it. Until now.

Were you with Claire? No, you were the type to let someone know.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong and he was sitting here in a meeting instead of-

"Agent Kennedy. Any insight?"

Leon had no clue about what was said in the last 45 minutes.

"Right." Leon had to drag his eyes away from the window, hands going to the stack of papers in front of him. He was silent as he skimmed, registering for the first time how layered this particular mission was. Honestly, he should've figured that since they were pulling him into the debriefing when it was Archer's mission, but he had other things occupying him today.

Archer piped up across from him, "I'm sure Leon agrees." Leon's gaze flicked up to him as he added, "Extraction takes priority. The more we learn, the more we'll get pulled in deeper if we add onto the mission's purpose. Make this quick and easy. In and out."

Leon leaned back in his chair as he mulled it over.

Archer's mission was based in South America. There had been a flagged disappearance of a vaccine from an American laboratory located in Chile. People in a nearby small town had steadily gone missing for the past two years and it had finally garnered a call for action from the DSO when there were reported sightings of infected wild life attacking the small town and passing it on to the townsfolk. The American team of scientists had gone radio silent for the better part of three years, and there's cause for belief that the missing vaccine was the solution to the rapid growth of the infection.

"Extraction is the key here. Any and all findings for the missing vaccine in order for replication and distribution. But it says here," Leon picked up the paper without looking at it, "That not everyone made it out of the town before the quarantine orders."

"It's too much risk. We don't know enough about the infection. Are you suggesting I rescue people who are a potential danger to everyone outside the quarantine zone?"

Leon tilted his head. "That's not what I'm saying. However, there's room for assessment. Yes, extraction is the number one priority…" Everyone was looking at him, including Archer with narrowed eyes, "Of information on the vaccine and the infection. Learn more about the infection, we also learn more about the vaccine."

"If we're unsuccessful, there's no time to assess and develop a vaccine from scratch. Besides, it's not within our jurisdiction. At that point, we hand it over to Chile's government and they do what they must to prevent the spread."

"I'm familiar with what that means, Archer." The smell of fire, the sound of a grating train and the world around him shaking.

"Agent Archer," The DSO member leading the debriefing capped their whiteboard marker. Her tone was stern. "I asked Agent Kennedy to be a part of this meeting for his expertise. Your mission is still for extraction from the lab. You will be sent into that small town. You may run into an opportunity to gather more information from its inhabitants."

Archer's eyes flashed. His tone was a forced nonchalance. "Hero boy was referring to the townspeople. I'm sure he read the part mentioning the town's school not being a part of the list of inhabitants who made it out prior to the quarantine. Children, right? You sure you don't want this to be a rescue mission?"

Leon was familiar with people in his field undermining him, making jabs, especially in these positions when his influence was palpable.

He typically carried a lot of patience, but Archer had made a jab at his past twice now, and he didn't like the insinuation of his connection to Sherry.

Allowing himself a moment to collect a slight frustration, his eyes slid to the movement at the window and the air he was holding inside escaped him as he spotted you heading toward the offices.

That small frustration disappeared as the tension in his body left him.

"You're capable, Archer," Was all he said.

The debriefing moved on and despite sensing Archer's pointed attention on him, his mind was all wrapped up in you.

Seeing you soothed the unsettled nerves beneath his skin but didn't silence it. He was glad you were here, but what had happened? As soon as there was an inkling of the debriefing coming to an end, he beelined for the door. He was one step into the hallway when Archer's voice sounded behind him, "I appreciate the insight, I really do, but there's a time and place for compassion. Missions like this? Not one of them."

Leon considered ignoring him. Instead, he turned around and met his gaze. Ronan Archer was a DSO agent Leon understood was reliable in the field.

Quiet, pragmatic, and apparently not a fan of Leon.

Leon breathed in, out. Not bothered. The DSO bred a specially different kind of treatment and regard to Leon than the rest. Coming from the same work, people carried either subtle or outright resentment for him. That, or a desire to get close to him in a failed attempt to further their own career. He was usually amused.

"Interesting perspective."

"That you don't agree with."

Leon had started to turn away, thinking Archer was done with the attempted standoff. His frustration sparked but he turned back to face him. "It's your mission, not mine."

"You would try to save them, wouldn't you?" Leon didn't say a word. He let him formulate his own story. It was often how these kinds of exchanges go. "Risk yourself, for strangers? For the most well-renowned special agent, you sure are foolish."

"Have I said something to offend you?"

Archer shook his head. "I just don't get it."

"Listen," Leon had enough. He needed to see you. Archer's jaw tensed. "If I were assigned to this, there would undoubtedly be a different execution. Why concern yourself with a what-if? Do what has to be done, and that's it."

"I'm not convinced that's what you do out there."

Leon blew a breath of amusement out from his nose. He knew, now. He was trying to provoke him. "Okay."

"I don't get it." Leon's attention was diverted, interest already gone. It was the same old, same old. Didn't expect it from Archer. "Why you?"

Leon looked back at him, studying him in question but Archer was already walking away.

The truth was, Archer was like everyone else who formed their own opinion of him and transformed him in their minds.

If Leon was assigned to extract the vaccine instead of Archer, that would take precedence and that's it. There were potentially survivors in that small town, and the mission wasn't to rescue them.

The time to grieve the loss of being someone who helped had long passed. No time to reflect on the exchange, he beelined for the desk area.

You weren't there.

"She left." He turned, Hunnigan at her desk. "Director wanted her to get her mind right before the mission tomorrow."

"She sent her home?"

Hunnigan looked over her shoulder at him and the two of them were surprising each other today. Her eyes were dunked in worry. "She wouldn't talk to me but… something was wrong."

His feet were moving. Finger pressing on the elevator button. It was taking too long. Heading for the stairwell, he paused at the door as he thought of the Director. She wasn't exactly known to be compassionate. What had prompted her to give you the time?

Hand on the steel door handle of the stairwell, he weighed his options.

Leon wanted to be there for you. He also wanted to be useful.

Carlos Oliveira was your brother, you didn't have to say it.

The vines around his heart tightened whenever he thought of you in the hospital. There but wandering away in your mind. In the car ride home, you mentioned you had a brother. Your voice was the kind of sadness so sorrowful, a mixture of defeat and acceptance.

He had suspected the deep connection to Carlos, and knew he would only need to do a little bit of digging to uncover that. He just wanted you to be the one to tell him. When you had, the music a contrast to the shadow of you falling into your despair, his mind exploded with his own desperation to help.

The elevator arrived when he was already heading down the hall.

Knocking on the door, he waited for her confirmation before he entered.

Director Connors didn't look up as she scribbled on a notepad.

"Director."

The sound of his voice caught her attention. Peering up at him over her reading glasses, her voice was neutral. "Agent Kennedy. This is unexpected."

"I don't think so. Our teams work closely alongside each other."

"Precisely. You've never personally come to me."

He didn't have time to explain or to satisfy her sudden urge to ask questions. Leon, however, knew how to play the patience game. "I'm sure you understand the demands of the kind of jobs we both lead. I'd like to put in a request for Level 2 Access."

She set down her pen, pulling off her glasses. "To the archive. Why?"

He was confident information on Carlos Oliveira and Raccoon City were buried beneath Level 2 Access in the database. His requests had never been denied before. She knew it, too, from the slightest purse of her lips. If she denied him, there'd be a lot more suspicion to be dished out. His voice was steady. "I'd like to review the events of the night of Raccoon City. Archer's current case bears some similarities to it and I'd like to cross reference before he goes."

Tapping her glasses on her desk, she finally nodded before turning to her computer. "Alright. I'll grant you Level 2 access for the day."

"Thank you, Director."

He clenched his fists when he didn't go to the elevator once more. In his office, he retrieved the small journal from his drawer and sat down at his desk, logging into the computer. True to her word, his Level 2 Access opened him up to an array of information and case files locked away that carried information the FOS deemed too high risk to be more accessible in the database.

He skipped reading the files on him and Claire, well versed in that.

To cover up his history, he opened them up anyways, used time to leave it open since they would absolutely review what he accessed in Level 2. As he left it open, he flipped through the old journal. Little notes he wrote to himself, dates and meetings from 1998. When enough minutes had passed, he found Valentine's file.

He read through it, the suffocation creeping in on him. Anyone who came out of Raccoon City would carry that horror with them forever. Majority of her file was redacted, including a name.

AROUND 2100, VALENTINE ENCOUNTERED -. IN -, MET -, U.B.C.S.*

.S wasn't redacted, but the name before it was. He knew if he kept on digging, he'd find it. He clicked the hyperlink and uncovered several files on the U.B.C.S. Mostly on the squad sent into the city that night and how Valentine teamed up with them to help evacuate. There was a massive file on a Sergeant from the U.B.C.S, a man named Nikolai Zinoviev. Most of his file was redacted, but he was able to gather the man was a spy and had betrayed the U.B.C.S that night.

Bingo.

He'd come into contact with Valentine and Oliveira. The two engaged and left him behind in the city, escaping together.

Oliveira was U.B.C.S? He had worked for Umbrella? Yet, he still worked with Jill and fought against Zinoviev.

He pulled his eyes away from the computer screen. Why was Carlos Oliveira's name redacted from that first file?

Reading along, he picked up bits and pieces of that night, forming an understanding of what occurred. With any filling of the blanks, he would talk to Jill if necessary.

This was the information you were likely searching for, and it had been out of your reach.

Logging out, he couldn't prevent himself any longer from going to you.

He had his own tasks, responsibilities, and expectations of him.

There was always something to be done.

That would have to wait until he checked on you.

Outside Claire's house, he turned off his car and drank in its appearance in the daylight. His mind went back to the other night at dinner. Quiet. The sound of you crying locked away in a room.

He walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

Barking broke out from behind him and he looked over his shoulder. Across the street, a woman was walking her dog. It was barking at him. He turned back to the door.

Leaning back, he looked at the window that was in front of the dining room. Closed blinds.

He rang the doorbell again, flexing his fingers at his side.

With a deep breath, he pulled out his phone, finding your contact as he raised his knuckles to the door and knocked. Firm and steady.

The call went to voicemail.

Hey. This is LUNA. Leave a message-

He stopped knocking, looking down at his phone before dialing you again, listening to see if he could hear your phone ringing inside. It was completely silent.

Hey. This is LUNA. Leave a message-

"Call me back as soon as you get this." His voice was measured. A chilled contrast to the restlessness building within him ever since he'd found out you came in late to work then left.

Leon paused once before sliding into his car, staring at the house and willing you to open the door.

He dialed Chris next as he pulled out of the driveway. The call went to voicemail and his hand tightened on the wheel.

He could go back to work. Focus on that.

Turning right out of the neighborhood, he drove in the direction of the hospital. That wasn't an option and he knew it.

His initial plan for the day was to visit Claire if he could after work. Now, he would do it sooner. On the way there, he spotted a grocery store and pulled in. Turning off the engine, his hand was already pressing the button to call you.

Hey. This is LUNA. Leave a message-

Rubbing a hand down his face roughly, he thought of the glimpse he'd seen of you in the conference room. Should he have… offered to stay with you last night? It had been something he'd thought about, but he figured you'd want him to leave you alone.

In the grocery store, he was standing in front of the small floral section. He had thought he'd just pick one randomly and go, but now that he was standing in front of it he wondered if flowers would be something Claire would even like. She was so tough, but it had even rattled him to see her arm and leg in a cast.

Should he get her something else?

He frowned down at his phone, trying not to think about how you hadn't called him back. There was no reason to freak out, so he wouldn't. He just wished you would text or call to reassure that you were good. He figured you needed some time to yourself.

Tucking it back into his pocket, he heaved a sigh as he scanned his options. He thought there would only be a couple, why were there so many different choices?

Leon didn't really know how to pick something for anyone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten something for someone like this. His fingers brushed the small white flower in front of him. Daisies. Yeah, he supposed he could connect those with his image of Claire. Picking them up, he spotted a small teddy bear wearing a jean jacket. That was more Claire, he'd have to say. He set the flowers back down. Picking up the teddy bear, he held it in the palm of his hand and studied it.

He turned back to the flowers. Should he get both?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, all thoughts fleeing as he yanked it from his pocket, deflating when he saw it was Chris.

"You called?"

"Yeah. I wanted to check in. LUNA… she left work early today."

"Okay… And?"

"I dropped by Claire's to check up on her and she didn't answer. I don't think she was there."

"Or maybe she didn't answer."

"Is she with Claire?"

"Did you try calling her?" Chris' fuse was short, even more than usual, but Leon didn't blame him.

"Yes. A few times."

"Maybe she's just avoiding you-"

"Can we really afford being optimistic?" Leon was in line with the teddy bear tucked under his arm, mentally replaying you walking past the window this morning. "Can you try calling her too?"

"Like she'll answer me." Leon stayed quiet. "Alright. I'll try."

He suppressed the urge to thank him, seeing he was nearing the front of the line before he left it and grabbed the flowers again before getting back in line. "Let me know then. Are you with Claire?"

"I need to leave right now. But I'll be back tonight."

"I'll drop by right now."

Chris' silence was different this time. Somehow, Leon knew he was glad to hear it.

"That's… good. I'll let you know if LUNA answers."

"Okay."

He had only been driving for a minute or two when his phone rang. Chris was calling back. He didn't get to say anything before Chris was already talking, voice tense. "She went back to her apartment."

Leon's hands tightened on the wheel. "What did she say?"

"She's hiding something. She just said that she felt wrong being at Claire's without her, but I think she's lying. When I asked her if something happened, she said she had to go and that she was fine. And when I asked her if she was going to come see Claire, she said she had to work."

You lied. You weren't working. And you were avoiding going to Claire's, then.

"I'll check on her. After I drop by the hospital."

"Thanks."

As he entered the hospital, he debated calling you and saw that you had texted him.

Sorry I missed your calls. I was resting.

He texted back, It's okay.

He wanted to call you again. He wanted you to call him. He actually wanted to text you, Please tell me what's going on.

He wondered if you would turn him away when he went to see you. There was a big chance you would.

His axis was skewed the moment he'd met you. He'd never want it to be the same again.

In these moments of uncertainty, however, it was a little more unbearable.

Leon didn't know what he had to offer. Yeah, his protection. Yeah, his support. What else was there to him? He sadly didn't know if there was anything else.

Despite that, he wanted you to know he wasn't going anywhere.

"Hey." He said, Claire's bed angled for her to sit up as she watched TV. He glanced and saw she was watching some courtroom tv show before she muted it.

Her face had brightened at the sight of him, but her voice came out tired. "Leon. Hey."

"No signatures yet?" He nodded at her casts as he set down the flowers at her bedside, sitting the teddy bear upright.

"Chris got pissy when I told him I wanted LUNA to sign it first." He made sure he didn't react, though he thought about you going back to your apartment. He took a seat at her bedside. "I would say you're second, but I think that'd really cause Chris to pass out."

"Top three's not so bad."

"Daisies? Thanks." He looked over at her and saw she was looking at them. Her face was scratched and bandaged, but when she met his gaze it was the same old Claire. "The teddy bear reminds me of Chris."

He scoffed. "Seriously?"

"I'll name him Christopher." Leon raised his eyebrows at the little bear. He paused when she added, "Christopher Kennedy."

Definitely wasn't his favorite, but he wasn't going to shut down her ideas. "CK it is."

She unmuted the TV and he watched it with her for a while. Here and there, she'd make a jab at the defendant, voicing how they deserved to be charged. He just nodded along, grateful she was okay.

When he checked his cell, he saw you hadn't texted again.

Picking his head back up, he looked back at the TV.

He realized the volume had lowered too late when Claire said, "I was wrong."

He turned to look at her. Claire's head was turned toward the window before she tilted her head back. He wasn't sure that was comfortable with her broken collarbone. "I told you that you were becoming more like one of them, like the people we fought hard against. I thought so… but I was wrong. I misjudged you."

They held each other's gaze when she turned to face him.

It was his turn to look away and toward the window. "I don't blame you. There's times when I'm not sure who I truly am. I understand what I'm feeling, and then I don't know where I'm going. I lose sight… and I don't know anymore."

"That's normal. We all do. But it's so obvious now, I could kick myself. You've always had that same spirit. That same heart." He had to look away because he wasn't sure if he could keep a hold on his composure. He flexed his right hand. "How is she?"

He swallowed, looking down at his hand. "I don't know."

"Don't give up on her."

His gaze shot to her. Claire's eyes were closed.

"It's good to know I'm not all that she has right now. She deserves so much."

Leon nodded. His voice came out odd, but he didn't care. "She does."

"So tell her to get out of her head for me, will you? Before I break out of here and knock some sense into her myself."

"You focus on recovery first," He said.

"Didn't they tell you? I have superhuman healing."

He paused, flipping through his memory of the things they'd both come into contact with. At the sound of her laugh, he shook his head. She spoke through her laugh, "You actually considered it."

He argued,"It's possible."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Now, get some rest."

Like she was waiting for him to say it, she dozed off.

He sunk into the chair, leaning his head back, raising his arms and running his hands through his hair to hold his head. Somehow, Claire had known something was off with you. Not only that, Claire's words had cut him straight to his foundation. Same spirit. Same heart.

When he got his thoughts in order, he stood. With a glance at Claire, at the teddy bear, at the flowers, he left.

Then he was outside your apartment.

He could've spent time mulling over you in the pouring rain that day clinging to him. How he ached to take away the danger.

He knocked.

A minute must've passed and he knew his mind was telling him it was longer. He raised his fist again, debating if he should just wait until you reached out when he heard you unlocking it on the other side.

The door slowly opened, you appearing behind it. Only a small sliver of the door opened.

His heart swelled then squeezed.

It was you.

"Leon," You whispered.

He was quiet himself, softer than he realized. "Hi."

Notes:

happy 30th chapter! ah, it's been such an unbelievable and incredible journey.

there's quite a bit left of the story, so don't worry, but to know the ending and to see it coming... i'll never get used to it. it'll be heartbreaking when that day comes. though i DO want to say, i have other ideas that may come to fruition. like i would love to write a canon-divergent story with leon, ashley, luis, and all of the characters 3 either in college or post college! au. i don't know if i've mentioned it, but i love re2 leon so much so i might have to explore him in another setting.

i watched guardians of the galaxy volume 3 the other night. any marvel fans reading this? uhhh that was devastating and beautiful. one of my new favorite mcu movies.

i would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! so much going on in leon's chaotic mind. i love him lol. he cares so much 3 what do you think?

- august

Chapter 31: when you're looking at me (xxxi)

Notes:

you're not ready

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

You didn't say anything as you stepped aside and opened the door wider.

Your throat was in knots, anyway, so you couldn't have for the moment.

Leon's eyes trailed away from you as he stepped inside. You locked the door and slid the chain into its slot. You braced yourself before turning around.

He perused your apartment.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" You weren't accusatory. Just spinning in space without a tether.

Leon's head turned. Tilted. Leaned toward you as he uttered, "Shouldn't you be?"

You continued watching as he trailed into the living room, drinking in this part of your life. Over time, there were little bits and pieces scattered in this apartment you'd once considered a temporary pit stop. You'd had no intention of it becoming some place of comfort, and hadn't realized it had until it was stripped away from you.

Leon exhaled in amusement when he picked up a little glass cat on your bookshelf, the cat sporting a little painted mustache. "Cute."

The sight rocked into you. Leon, dressed in a navy blue button up, sleeves rolled up and top button undone. Bruise nearly faded on his eye, the intimacy washing over you. Leon was in your apartment, drinking in little pieces of you.

You tensed.

He put the cat down, moving on. No care in the world. Nowhere to be. Back to you now, he was looking at the sole painting hung on your wall. It was an oil painting of a rainstorm raging down on a cottage house, but you had picked it for the flowers in the front yard. Despite the storm, they didn't lose their color.

As he drank in the painting, you drank in the picture of him standing there in your living room. His shoulders, the lines of his body. The first and last time he'd been here was that day. Your lips parted, finding it difficult to take in a deep breath as you thought about how he'd always been here.

"Why are you here?" It still wasn't accusatory, Internally you were cringing, wanting to run. You were tired of running. Leon dragged his eyes away to look at you over his shoulder. He turned back to the painting and though the silence was brief, you needed to fill it. "Don't you have work to do?"

"How are you?"

The weight hanging over you dispersed a bit as you padded over to the couch and slumped down into it. "Answering my question with a question. Original."

"It's a valid question."

"It is." You heaved yourself back up, pointedly avoiding brushing against him as you walked around him. He turned as you did, and your heart jumped at the closeness. You also avoided his eyes. "I put some coffee on before you got here. Want a cup?"

"Sure. Thank you."

You poured first into the mug you picked out from the cupboard for him, then poured into yours. You looked down at the black coffee, breathing in the scent and finding a brief calm in its routine. Raising it, you breathed it in once more and glanced at the sugar and creamer you had out before turning to take it to Leon.

Thoughts fled you at the sight of him standing in the opening of the kitchen.

You remember picking out this apartment, thinking the kitchen was big for one person. Leon standing on the edge of it struck you that you were wildly off. Perhaps it was just him. Either way, the kitchen lost its color, its space, all of it being drawn to him.

Wordlessly, you held out your hands. His fingers brushed your hand as he thanked you, and you turned your head away, feeling as if you'd already drank three cups with the way your heart was going off.

"How do you like your coffee?"

His eyes struck yours like matches as he sipped at his mug. "Depends on the day."

"You just, I don't know. You like sweets so I thought you'd like your coffee sweet. I was surprised when you told me black is how you like it."

The silence shifted as you prepared your coffee; it was your turn to look over your shoulder at him. You paused, seeing how he had stilled with an indecipherable look folded into his face. Another look washed over him when he met your eyes before he came up beside you and picked up the creamer. "Black's not bad. I… do like creamer and sugar."

You nodded, the two of you shoulder to shoulder and attention on the mugs but not really.

"Oh. That's…"

"You know I like sweets. How?"

"Just when people bring in doughnuts or that one time we celebrated Archer's birthday, you looked really happy eating a slice of cake."

"Maybe it was just a good day."

You side-eyed him. He laughed to himself, knowing that it was ridiculous to suggest that.

"Well," He stirred his coffee, side-eyeing you back. "Black coffee tastes a little different when it's from you."

It was a lightning strike, as if your skin had prickled in anticipation and you'd known it was coming too late. His words struck you, resonated in your bones. Your lips parted and you had to take a large gulp of your coffee.

You abruptly turned when you heard him hum in thought, trying to brace yourself for another heart-wrenching or frustratingly charming sentence to come out of that mouth of his, but relaxed when he raised the mug higher to inspect it.

It was a panda-shaped mug. His eyebrows raised as he read the message on the panda's shirt. FUCK OFF.

"Claire got me that."

His finger went to the panda shirt. "Sounds like Claire."

"She said every time I used it, she wanted me to remember she's the best thing since coffee."

Shaking his head, he took a drink and you couldn't keep on going with this trivial- albeit painfully nice- conversation. In his presence you gained a little more of yourself back that you'd been lacking since this morning.

You'd been a mess since discovering the photos, the truth. You were spinning, further and further away, crawling back to that dark place you retreated to when it evident life was just an excuse to fuck you and everyone you love over. You were alone.

Except you weren't, because Leon was here every time you came to that realization.

So you asked, "How did you know I was here?"

The blue of his eyes were vivid and alive paired with his blue shirt. They flashed at your words before settling. "Lucky guess."

"If lucky guess is Chris' new nickname, then sure." You sighed, moving away from him to clear your head a little more. Leaning on the counter adjacent to him, you studied him until he turned toward you. "You two sure are annoying when you're a team."

"I agree." He leaned up against the counter across from you, mirroring you. You set your mug down, picked it up, set it back down. His gaze was unwavering on you. "I actually saw you earlier in the office. I just… I wanted to check in."

"I'm fine."

"It hasn't even been a day. What happened with Claire-"

You picked up the mug and headed out the kitchen. "She's going to be fine. And I'm good, too."

His pause let you know you weren't convincing him. You couldn't look at him. All your defenses were loosening, and were probably complete ashes in his presence. The longer you were near him, the more you were armor-less.

He was standing behind you.

You steeled yourself and didn't turn to face him. You were careful to keep your voice neutral. "I'm guessing you have something to say."

On the contrary, Leon's voice was firm and dripped in resolve. "Claire will be fine. She's tough. She already looks as if she's halfway to healed. That doesn't make it any less hard. To see her like that. To be on your own with this."

You shook your head. "It doesn't matter how I feel."

"Yes it does. What you feel matters, too. You don't have to be-" Alone. You knew that was what he was going to say and you didn't want to hear it. You didn't want to hear the words you had told him that pathetically applied to you. You reeled on him.

"Look, Leon, I'm having a shit day and I'm doing everything to just shut my brain off. I appreciate you checking on me, but…" You shrugged.

Too late, you realized he was waiting for you to turn toward him. His expression was set, head raised and eyes clearer than daylight. Here in your living room, you had never seen him so… tangible. Your mind was screaming, Retreat. Retreat.

Your feet were rooted.

"Why are you back here?" He wasn't accusatory, either. You hated that he wasn't. Shouldn't the two of you be clashing? Shouldn't this be a storm? Why were you beginning to realize who he was to you now?

You swallowed. You didn't want to talk. You couldn't talk.

Stop. Please. He continued, "I stopped by the house first. Then, I thought you might be with Claire. When I talked with Chris, he said you left the house."

You squeezed your eyes closed.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Come on."

It spilled from you, frantic. "What? Leon, what? You're interrogating me when it's clear you've come to your own conclusions, so answer my question. Why are you here?"

"I was worried about you." The daylight he emanated retreated, voice serious and stormy. This was uncharted territory for him, too. "You showed up late and got sent home."

"You have bigger things to worry about than my work life."

He tilted his head. "Something happened. Something to push you back here, to the place that was taken from you. A place you wanted to leave."

"Key word: wanted. This is my… home." How unconvincing even to your own ears. There was no way you were going to tell him… right? With every passing day, your attachment to him was rooting itself deep inside which meant that whoever was watching… had to know. You couldn't risk him. You couldn't.

Forcing your shoulders to relax, you stepped toward him.

His gaze had been turned downward and it snapped upward at your approach. You ignored your mouth growing dry, or how his eyes danced over your skin and made you hyper aware of your movements.

You pictured your voice coming out soothing as you said, "I'm fine, okay? I wouldn't come back here if I didn't want to. It was just time."

You maintained your composure as his eyes bounced around your features. This needed to be sold, and you figured it wouldn't be the easiest with his honed intuition. He didn't have to believe you, you just had to keep it together enough to satiate his curiosity. That's how it was with everyone, after all. You convince them and they'll back off. You couldn't blame them for not trying harder when you were the one refusing to lessen the distance.

It seemed, for a moment, you were in the clear. There was the slightest nod that passed between you. You were close enough to see him considering your words, his eyelashes fluttering above his cheeks. Then something washed over him. Without breaking eye contact, his face hardened. "What happened to your hand?"

Your lips parted. Mind a blank canvas.

Say something. Appease him. Get him to back off.

You don't want him to back off.

He needs to, he can't be close to you. You can't let it happen.

Your breathing was becoming sharp, slight. It was the coffee. It was the warmth of the heater- you needed to turn it down.

Hands hovered over your arms, then gently pressed into them and you were flooded with him. The scent of his body wash, an artist and a musician and a writer's dream to be this close. His hands, strong and warm, weren't holding you down, no. They were ladder rungs, they were a foothold you'd never known.

You knew everything and nothing.

His hand dragged down your arm, you let him. He circled your wrist, turned your hand over and studied the bandage. You couldn't decipher his expression but you knew you had failed.

This was a failure you weren't so disappointed about.

What did you do with this desperation and this desire when everything within you was a warning telling you to get him to leave. You needed to push him out and he needed to let you. Instead he was closer and closer with every day, every moment, even when he wasn't here.

"I cut it while cleaning up some glass."

"It's bleeding through."

His thumb was rubbing your wrist. You didn't notice the bleeding, or the slight ache from your hand. You could only hang onto that feeling of him on your skin. You whispered, "Guess I was a little excited about my morning cup of coffee."

"I know I showed up unannounced. I just… I needed to see you."

"Needed?" When you raised your eyes, a flash of an understanding whipped by at the look on his face. Why was he looking at you like that? Oh. Then, it was gone.

For once, you were angry. Angry at your mind for feeding you doubts, fears, for making you freeze. You shut it off as you whispered, "I can't lose Claire."

He didn't have to know the details. But he could know a little bit of what you were feeling. Funneling it out was a relief stunning you.

"You won't." His thumb was still caressing your wrist, gaze not moving from your hand.

"I should be alone."

"No, you shouldn't." Your hand raised as he pulled it upward. If you'd wanted to argue, you couldn't possibly. Not when he was this close, not when you were incapable of thought.

"That's all I've ever known."

"I know what that's like. And yet," He put your hand back at your side, pausing a breath away. He was quiet, but the words were broadcasted into you. "Since we first met, I can't remember what alone used to be."

"I… I don't know."

"It's not simple, feeling like we're not alone. If it was, there'd be no such thing as loneliness. You said we were even," You were stumbling off a cliff- no, you were floating up the summit- "That's what you said, when you brought me coffee. If we're even, I want to owe you. Then, I want you to keep bringing me coffee. I want you to keep seeing me because I see you."

You realized your bandaged hand had raised, was poised there as if you were going to press it into his chest. He only watched, still giving you that look.

As if he knew, as if he somehow could read you- he could, couldn't you?- he nodded once. "It's okay if you push me away. You don't have to, but I don't think I can look away. I'll wait."

"What if you're waiting a long time?" Because you couldn't say anything, your brain wasn't warning you anymore; it was just as speechless as you.

"That's fine."

"I'm just… I'm a little lost right now. I don't know what to do anymore."

"We'll figure it out."

We.

You lifted your gaze to his. Brutally beautiful? An angel.

You nodded.

"Will you… stay? I want to shower and I…" You didn't want to say it, even though he knew you had your reasons to come back here. He also knew it wasn't easy for you.

"Yes. I'll be here."

In your tiny bathroom, the world went quiet. No screaming warnings, no live wire beneath your skin as he touched you. The shower running made sure the steam quickly joined the fray, and you kept it running even when you got out. You sat on the toilet seat, first aid on the counter.

He'd beared a truth to you that scrambled up all of your defenses.

Who were you kidding? Has there been any solid defenses all this time since you first met him?

You'd tried so hard, you knew it. You still didn't want him involved.

Sadly, he might be more equipped for the disaster it was to find Carlos. He was a friend, he was special, and he was an ally. He was waiting.

"Leon."

The steam poured out of the bathroom door and you admired his back before he turned at the call of his name. The TV was on but it looked like he hadn't been watching. You didn't say anything and somehow he knew.

He was outside the bathroom now, watching you. In the shadow of the hallway, he was a lot more like the Leon you were accustomed to. You knew these shadows had shifted, too. His expression was always composed, always level, but he also had a look whenever his attention was on you.

You took a step backward and he followed you in.

He glanced at the still running shower, and saw that the mirror was completely fogged. You sat at the toilet seat as he noted the first aid, how you held your hand in your lap.

You were capable of dressing your injury yourself, you knew that.

But he was waiting. And maybe he'd always be waiting, but you wanted him to know… you saw him. And you'd keep on seeing him until you could, even when you'd have to cut it off eventually.

He didn't say anything as he crouched in front of you. Gently, he cupped your hand and studied the cut. His thumb caressed your inner wrist.

Your eyelids lowered.

In the light, you saw more clearly the beauty marks on his neck. His hair was molding to the nape of his neck due to the humidity of the steam. His cheeks took on a flush, and he paused when you pushed a strand of his hair out of his face. You took extra care not to brush your fingers on his face.

After he applied the bandage, he still held onto your hand. Still stared down at it as if he was still seeing the cut.

Then,

Crouched in front of you, he lowered his head and held your hand to his forehead. The sound of the shower cascaded over you, matching what must've been your loud heartbeat roaring within you. You watched his bowed head, how it raised as he held your hand to his mouth, eyes closed and mind inaccessible to you.

The feeling of his lips on your skin made the ache in your hand, for the briefest moment, disappear. Like Leon's ability to make it better, both the pain inside and outside, was strictly a magic.

He opened his eyes to you, lips still on your hand, hands still on yours. Those blue mirrors, those hands, that mouth, you felt him everywhere.

"I was worried about you," He whispered.

"I think it would do you some good to worry about yourself a little more, too."

"Maybe."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are."

"You know what's worse than a cut on a hand?"

"Two broken ribs?"

You shook your head, because you couldn't hide having to bite back a smile. Even when he pulled his mouth away, you felt it. Even after he caressed your wrist one last time and let go, his touch lingered.

"Let's get some lunch," He said, your previous thoughts fading as you looked up.

"Don't you-"

"Have work? I also have lunch, like Hunnigan so generously likes to remind me of. You don't have to worry about me."

Too late. You always would, you knew.

You shut off the shower, the silence taking the stage and then you were watching his back again. You were thinking of being back here at this apartment. Of wanting to protect the people you love. And how sometimes that meant… They wanted to be there, too.

"Maybe not lunch…I'm pretty tired. But I was thinking… if you want to come back after work. If you have time."

He didn't turn around but he paused.

The sound of the shower came to mind, how it mimicked the sound of your heart.

"I'll see you tonight." When you didn't say anything, he looked back at you. "Alright?"

"Alright."

When he left, you saw how the mustache cat was moved slightly off from where it usually was. The panda mug used and in the sink. The kitchen spacious again

You closed your eyes, sensing how the atoms of the room had been forever altered.

How they had shifted in you, too.

There was fear. Pain. Worry. Restlessness.

And that was okay. It was okay.

Notes:

how are we feeling?

i was holding my breath at some parts haha. i know there wasn't a kiss but... i hope this was still a gift. it made my heart soft thinking back on chapter 15 (The restaurant and the angst haha) to this. They've come far (,: and even more to come.

these two ahhhhh i love them

- august

Chapter 32: i can never look away (xxxii)

Chapter Text

The drive, at his desk, talking to colleagues.

The drive home, in the shower, looking in the mirror.

The drive to the store, down an aisle, studying the ice cream.

In all of those moments, his mind was quiet.

You had given him that.

When he was still at the office earlier, he had texted you asking about what you wanted for dinner. He was no chef, but growing up he'd had to learn how to take care of himself- that included the kitchen.

The text he'd received from you wasn't the kind of request he'd expected; instead of an answer, it was asking for him to call you when he was free.

Slipping away to the second floor courtyard, he had squinted his eyes as soon as you picked up. "Would you say you're more of a steak or a pasta kind of person?"

"You're not cooking for me."

"So…? Neither? What about tacos? Salmon? Lasagna?"

"You're coming over. As a guest. I-"

"What does that matter? It can be my thank you."

"Thank you? For what?"

He hadn't realized how much he liked your slightly defensive and biting kind of tone you took on when the two of you disagreed. He relished it as he dragged out his response. "For… having me over."

"I'll cook," Your tone was final. "That's the most logical solution, wouldn't you say?"

He had to ignore how his voice shifted. "You scared of my cooking?"

"How could you tell?"

"Okay. Well then. Dessert. On me. That fair?"

"That's fair."

"Okay." His hand had absentmindedly went to his knife. A habit of comfort. However, having heard your voice, he let it fall from his chest. He had been able to breathe in the crisp autumn air, releasing the constraints he usually casted on himself. Just for that moment. Just hearing your voice. "Do you have a favorite dessert?"

"Ice cream's fine."

"Flavor?"

You had told him your favorite flavor and the constraints loosened even further. Such a small fact about you. So small yet the satisfaction of knowing it was massive.

Now, hours later, he was in the middle of browsing ice cream brands when his eyes crossed his reflection's gaze. He thought of how he'd gone home and showered, spending a little extra time making sure his hair was neater than usual. He noted in his reflection how he opted out of his favorite brown jacket and went with a black bomber jacket instead. It was dinner at your place, and he didn't want to be too critical. That hadn't stopped him from considering his three colognes longer than necessary before forcing himself to choose without thinking about it.

It wasn't just dinner. It was dinner with you.

Something he'd buried deep inside since the first dinner? The desire to keep having dinners with you. Back then, he'd had to accept the likelihood of it never happening again. He was glad to be wrong.

And his mind was quiet. He couldn't forget that.

That was, until he was in line for checkout, tub of ice cream in hand. His phone rang.

Unfamiliar number, familiar zip code. Staring down at it, he wondered what'd it be like to ignore it. His knuckles whitened the longer his grip tightened. The self betrayal licked at his throat as he released his breath, relaxed his grip, and answered.

The DSO needed him on a plane tonight.

He hardly said a word on the call. It ended shortly after it began. He closed his eyes briefly as he held the phone to his forehead.

"Sir?"

The line was held up because of him. He stepped forward and paid for the ice cream. Moments later, he was staring at it on his passenger seat. With a deep breath, he clicked on your contact.

"Hey."

"Hey." You paused. "What's wrong?"

"I got called in. Tonight." Another silence. He didn't like it. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" You didn't sound angry but he was sure you should be.

He was confused that you were confused. He prompted, "I'm bailing on dinner."

"It's not bailing. It's work."

Leon was still sorry. Sorry it wasn't already the first time he'd fucked up a dinner with you and sorry it likely wouldn't be the last. Sorry he wanted to be there with you and couldn't be.

No wonder none of his previous connections with people were sustainable.

Your voice was soft in his ear. "Hey." He listened, the drowning thoughts pulling away as he realized he'd let the loudness of his mind wash over him like it usually did. Despite the static, your voice was solid. A beacon. "It's okay. Just means you owe me."

He blinked. Turned over your words. Ignored the steady beat of his heart thrumming harder like a drum set. A small laugh sounded and he realized it was his own. "I can live with that."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"I won't know until I'm debriefed."

"Does this happen often? Spontaneous missions?" The careful neutrality of your voice told him everything he needed to know. You were thinking about Taylor picking him up after that night in jail.

"Depends on demand."

"You're the best they got, aren't you?"

He didn't say anything to that, eyes trailing down to his keys in the ignition. There was only one key chain on it, a little green velociraptor. He thought of who gave it to him, ignoring the wedges driving into his chest at your words and the memory. "I better pack, then."

"I'm guessing you like getting to the airport super early."

"Doesn't everyone?" He didn't clarify that a private jet was typically arranged.

"Want some company?" He blinked as his lips parted. It was your turn to clarify, as if he were confused. "While you pack."

People did that? He thought of you standing in his apartment. His stomach tightened, picturing you in his living room… his bedroom. His lack of response must've made you nervous as you attempted to backtrack. "Actually, I'm sure that might just make things more tiring. The call was sudden after all. I'll just see you when you-"

"I'd like that." You went silent. Almost as if you'd hung up.

"Okay."

He entered his apartment with scrutinizing eyes, noting there wasn't much clean up to do. He took out the trash, he checked his fridge to see if there was anything he could offer. Checking the clock, there was no time to really go out to the store again. Looking around, he pursed his lips. There wasn't much to clean up, and there wasn't much to see either.

His phone buzzed and he wondered if you were already here before seeing Chris' name.

Leon opened his mouth to greet him but Chris was already talking. "You didn't convince her to go back to Claire's?"

His eyebrows raised and he ignored his slight flare of frustration at Chris' tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had orders."

"Don't be a smartass. So she's just by herself at her sketchy ass apartment."

"She's not alone." Leon froze, not knowing what he'd been about to say but embarrassed all the same. "What we can do is be there for her. We can't force her to do anything."

A loud, sarcastic laugh sounded on the other line and Leon clenched his teeth as he waited for Chris to get on with it. His voice returned deadly calm. "Kennedy, there's a target on her. The more she fucks around, the more she's in danger."

"She's not fucking around," Leon narrowed his eyes. "She's… she's scared, Chris."

"If she's scared, why is she running off alone?"

"Why does anyone?" Leon hissed, before he forced himself to take a deep breath. "Something happened. She won't tell me. But I think that's why she wants to pull away right now. I'm not going to say anything that pushes her further away when she needs someone to just understand."

Chris was quiet. Finally. "Why do you think she's avoiding Claire?"

"The same thing. I don't know what happened but something did. Look, I know you're not going to let anything happen to her. Neither will I. I'll talk to her, but we-" His phone rang with another incoming call. It was you. "I've got to go."

"Leon?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad she has you."

Those words washed over him, pressing into him over and over as he went to meet you downstairs. He was embarrassed at himself for his mind going there, but he thought of your closeness to Chris. The talks with Hunnigan. The way he'd put two and two together. Shouldn't he be saying he was glad you have Chris?

All of that fell away at the sight of you.

Standing on the other side of the door wearing that nice coat of yours he'd only seen once. It must've not been doing its job well as you stomped your feet, looking as if you were trying to get warm from the wind. You were holding a fogged up tupperware in your hands.

Your face… it changed when he pushed open the door and moved to let you walk in. He wasn't sure if it softened, or if it was more like awe. Leon tried not to read into stuff like that, and it seemed his avoidance of it all this time left him lacking in that department now. "Hey," Your voice was kind, always more soft when it was just the two of you.

Happy. He thinks you were happy to see him. Even if it was brief. Even if it didn't last.

That made him happy, too.

"Hey. That for me?"

You looked down at your hands with wide eyes before you nodded. "Right. Yes. I figured you didn't get the time to make dinner. And knowing you, you wouldn't bother picking something up on the way." You were right. He grabbed it when you handed it over, the warmth from the tupperware spreading to his heart.

"Thank you."

Your lips parted and then you nodded. He led the way to the elevator, the two of you turning to face the door after he pressed the 8th floor.

Neither of you said a word.

His mind trailed to moments from now, when you'd be in his place. To distract himself, he raised the tupperware and peered inside. "Looks good."

"You can barely see it," You narrowed your eyes on him. He met your gaze and the two of you fell into silence. The amusement he'd felt tugging at his lips faded as you stared back at him. Up close.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped forward, holding them open to let you go first before joining you and leading you to the right to the front door. He unlocked it, noticing you were looking over your shoulder. You were probably wondering why there was only one other door on the floor. He didn't say anything.

Leon held the door open and watched you and your expressions closely. What did you see? He pulled his gaze away and tried to imagine what someone who was seeing this place for the first time would see. It was impersonal. It was sad. He bought things sometimes but he hardly spent any time here-

"I like your shelves. Your living room reminds me of an old library."

His head whipped toward you again, thoughts slipping from him like sand. He followed your gaze. He saw a lonely and impersonal place. You saw something different. When he looked back at you, you were shrugging off your jacket. His eyes skimmed over your collarbone that had appeared from your sweater sticking to your jacket, down your arms to your hands. When he felt your gaze, he turned to the kitchen.

"I didn't forget."

"Hmm?"

He heard your footsteps follow him.

Leon pulled open the freezer and grabbed the tub of ice cream. He turned, not sure what to make of the triumph lighting up inside of him thinking about how he was able to give you this, before he paused. You were right behind him, close to the counter and head tilted down to study what laid atop it. He saw you were looking at the unfinished crossword puzzle he'd left there.

"You read the paper?"

"I find it settling to know what's going on."

"You do the crosswords."

He eyed you as he grabbed a spoon for you. "Sometimes. When I have the time."

Your finger ran along an empty row. "This one's Ghost."

"What?" He came closer, peering over your shoulder and down at the crossword. He looked at the clue you were pointing at as you explained.

"The 1990 film starring Patrick Swayze murdered and trying to protect the woman he loves."

"Huh." Leon picked up the pencil and held it out to you. "Morbid."

As you scribbled the answer, you asked, "Never seen it?"

"Not sure I want to."

"Oh, you do," When you straightened, the two of you noticed at the same time the lack of space between you. Your arm had brushed against his chest.

Taking a step back, he held out the ice cream. "Dessert on me."

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you took it from him. "You're ridiculous."

He scooped up the tupperware and a fork as he tilted his head toward the hall. "This way."

The two of you talked about random things- more movies, actors. Leon wasn't well-versed in that area, in anything really outside of his day to day life. He just didn't have the time. While he packed a duffel bag, he tried to not let his eyes go to you. Sitting on his bed, leaning back and eating the ice cream. An indecipherable weight had settled in his bones the more you settled in here, as if your presence was burrowing into him and making a home.

After he grabbed his items from his bathroom, he stepped out and saw that you were no longer on the bed. He looked to the side to see a shadow from his closet. Stopping in the doorway, he leaned his hand on the frame as you thumbed through his shirts. Too late, he squeezed his eyes closed as your hand stopped on the most glaring piece of clothing he owned. You turned back to face him as you pulled it out from the row, holding it up to your body with a teasing eye.

"Don't-"

"This is Saturday Night Fever of you. I didn't know you were into disco."

The shirt was all collar, stripes, and open chest. "Sometimes you don't have a choice on what you wear for undercover missions."

"Seriously?" Your eyes widened and then the gravity was sucked from the room as you laughed. He was floating, light-headed at the sound. He'd made you laugh. "Can I see you in it?"

"Absolutely not."

"You owe me, remember?"

"I don't owe you that."

"Come on. Please-" You were really trying hard not to laugh at the look on his face. You released the shirt and it fell back into place. "It really doesn't look like you, I'll give you that."

"I'll burn it as soon as I get back."

You laughed and brushed past him, and he watched you. It was increasingly clear he couldn't go long without seeing you. Even if he tried, his eyes would find you. As you settled back on the bed, spooning at the ice cream, you asked, "What's the usual uniform for kicking ass anyway?"

"Black. Hides the blood." He looked up from folding his clothes into the bag. "Joking."

"No you're not." As Leon checked his bag, your voice went quiet. "You should think about wearing more blue… Or gray. Even green."

"Why is that?"

Your eyes climbed up. Up, up, up the expanse of his body. He drank you in right back, right there lounging at the edge of his bed. Collarbone exposed. Your neck. Your hand poised with the spoon. You met his gaze. "Your eyes. That's why."

Your cell phone went off and the spell broke. The both of you saw the contact name at the same time and he paused as you flipped it over. Claire. He thought of Chris, his frustrating and overbearing protectiveness. He braced himself, debating how to bring it up.

You pointed the spoon at the ice cream. "You should try some of this. It's perfect."

He shook his head gently. "It's yours. I got it for you."

"Oh, please. I'm going to finish this off and you know it. But it's good. Try it."

Leon relented. It was dangerous, because as he set his shirt down and started to walk toward the door, he realized he'd probably always relent to you. He had already started thinking of putting the shirt on, after all.

"It's okay. If you don't mind, you can use this." He turned, saw you were holding out the spoon.

He didn't mind, but he also was trying not to be close to you. Trying not to touch you. He focused on the ice cream as he took the spoon, scooping up a bite and trying it. "It's good."

"Told you. But wow, you shouldn't go into advertising. You're not very convincing. You reacted the way you did with that nasty milkshake."

He sighed. "Don't remind me."

You rolled your eyes and he wondered, then, how he could've thought this place was impersonal. Seeing you here, hearing your laugh and smelling your body spray linger… this place was the furthest from a solitude.

He didn't laugh often, smiled even less, but there was a softness he couldn't put into words getting the chance to be with you. He couldn't get enough. He never would.

As he zipped up the bag, your phone went off again. "You should get that."

You were scraping at the ice cream absentmindedly. Then you shook your head. "I'm with you, right now."

"When you're ready. No point in worrying each other."

You didn't say anything but he knew you were hearing him. He shouldered the bag. His eyes went to the clock down the hall. "Better head out."

From the corner of his eye, you got up and brought the ice cream with you. You gave it to him and refused him when he tried to get you to take it. Putting it in the freezer, he deposited the spoon into the sink and the two of you went down together.

He'd called a car for you. He internally sighed in relief seeing it was already here.

"I'll be back soon. If you need anything-"

"I know. Thank you."

Leon turned to you. The thought of you being alone had a storm washing over your face, your mind already away from him.

"If you want me to arrange a room, I can…" He trailed off, understanding the look you leveled at him. He nodded as you took a step toward the idling car. You stopped after taking a step, half turned away from him. Like you wanted to say something but didn't know what.

It was hard. It was harder than he thought, to move away from you. Still, it was another skill drilled into him. As he walked by, he let his fingers caress your palm, not stopping as he went toward his own car.

"Take care of that hand."

"Leon." Your call made him pause, his arms going up to rest on the top of the car. You didn't say anything else but he knew what you were saying. Each day that passed, the two of you were slowly deciphering the language of each other.

He nodded at you before he climbed into the car.

The further away he got, the quiet of his mind was losing the battle. The worry was creeping in. The being away while there was a threat to you drove him wild.

He'd get this done.

Then he'd be back to you.

Chapter 33: in a corner i haunt (xxxiii)

Notes:

hello lovely friends ~

this chapter took more time because a lot of care went into it. i've been extremely excited to reach this point. hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Most of the last two days were spent getting here.

Riding through the city, traveling in silence, she had observed the buildings and homes as she passed. She hardly ever gave herself time to daydream, but in the quiet of the ride and having her plans fully laid out, she allowed herself to slip into the idea of what it'd be like to travel here for leisure.

Arriving in El Alto, she took a moment to soak in the buildings and the hilled roads. Checking her watch, she knew she was early. Despite that, her movements remained purposeful and relaxed.

Coming across the marketplace that had been described to her, she was nearly there.

Making her way down, her eyes scanned the stalls, ignoring any lingered stares and acknowledging those who greeted her.

The air was warm on her exposed arms- she had another shirt packed in her backpack as well. The sky was brutally blue and white clouds crowded overhead. Chatter sounded all around her, and she adjusted her hat as she continued on. Near the end, she spotted the man she was meeting, his eyes meeting hers and his expression unchanging as he finished up talking to the older man in front of him. She watched as he placed a hand on the older woman he was working the stall with, talking quietly before he stepped around and faced her.

He brought his hands together as he greeted her."Señorita Valentine."

"Señor Guzman."

He gestured to the path behind him with his head and Jill assessed before following. The alley between the two buildings was narrow as he led her completely through before turning left. They exited onto another street and he didn't stop. Soon, they came to a small and orange square building, sun shining down on them.

She stepped inside, blinking away the lack of sight from moving from the sunlight into the dim room. It was quiet for a bar. Dark, sure. But quiet.

He made small talk, maybe hoping to make her feel welcome. "Algunas noches está ocupado. Mucha gente por la noche." Some days it's busy. A lot of people at night.

Jill nodded as he moved to a table. He motioned at the seat across from him. She was careful in her observation of the building, the people inside, even Senor Guzman before she sat across from him.

"¿Cómo estuvo su viaje?" How was your travels?

"Largo." Long. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes sharp beneath the rim of her cap. Whatever he was about to say next left him as he sensed her mood. She pulled out a photo, then placed an envelope down beside it. "Necesito que me diga donde puedo encontrar este edificio." I need you to tell me where to find this building.

He couldn't drag his gaze from the envelope. Still, he said, "Perdon. Pero no la puedo ayudar." I'm sorry. I can't help you.

Patiently, she studied him. When he didn't speak up, she pulled out another envelope, significantly thicker than the previous. "Me han dicho que…usted conoce a cualquier amigo que se aparece por la ciudad a pedir ayuda." I was told you know every… friend in need who shows up to the city.

He shook his head, licking his lips in thought before he glanced around. Pushing the envelopes toward her, he shook his head. "No me engaña. Usted es del gobierno." You think I can't smell government on you?

"No soy parte del gobierno. Mi amigo está desaparecido. Este edificio es el lugar donde se vio por última vez.¿Esto es un apartamento?" I'm not the government. My friend is missing. This building is the last place he was seen. Is it an apartment?

"Señorita…" He shook his head, keeping from meeting her eyes.

He wasn't going to budge. Money wasn't enough. Pulling her cap down, she swept the envelopes and photo back toward her and into her bag, shouldering it before she nodded. "Que tenga un buen dia." Have a nice day.

She stepped outside, the heat and her frustration tensing up her body. So much for her connect's intel. With a deep breath, she looked out at the street and watched the cars for a moment before a different kind of tenseness washed over her. She braced herself before twisting her head. A young boy was staring at her. Jill's shoulders relaxed.

"Yo la puedo ayudar." I can help you. Her gaze shot back toward the bar and the boy took a step back.

"¿Por qué?" Why?

He looked at her with an unwavering stare, ignoring her question. "Él no sabrá." He won't know.

She repeated herself. "¿Por qué me ayudarías?" Why would you help me?

His eyes went to her backpack. Ah, the money. Still… she was sure Guzman wasn't the only one who was wary about her presence. He must've read the answer in her stoic expression because he began walking without so much as a glance back. Soon, his pace quickened and she had to adjust to a jog as he weaved through the streets.

Eventually, he came to a stop at an intersection, pointing at the little shop across the street. "Allí." There. She looked between him and the shop. Through the windows, she saw a middle aged woman carrying a box toward the shelves. "Ella sabe de la gente. Y de lugares." She knows about people. And places.

"¿Y tú?"And you? She looked down at him. He stared up with brazenness.

"Yo observo. Sé de cosas. El Señor Guzman a veces no es bueno. La Señora Gutierrez se preocupa por la gente." I watch. I know things. Señor Guzman is no good sometimes. Señora Gutierrez cares about people.

"¿Por qué me ayudarías?¿ Qué tal si no soy una buena persona?" Why would you help me? What if I'm not a good person?

"Eres buena. Se anota." You're good. I can tell.

Jill hummed in amusement then pulled out the bigger envelope. "Gracias por tu ayuda." Thank you for your help.

He nodded toward the store. "No lo necesito. Ella lo necesita." I don't need it. She does.

She studied the boy. He couldn't be older than twelve. Instead of insisting, she put it back in her bag and pulled out something else instead, holding out her enclosed fist.

He studied it for a second before holding out his palm. Somehow, from the feel of the metal, he knew what it was. His eyes widened a little and she remembered that despite being observant, he was still a kid.

"Saber de cosas es peligroso. Protégete." Knowing things is dangerous. Protect yourself.

He stuffed it into his pocket, the look on his face suggesting wisdom beyond his age. He turned to her then, looking at her. "¿Cómo se llama?"

"Jill. ¿Y tú?"

"Felipe."

She racked her brain and didn't know how to tell him what she wanted to say, so as she took a step into the street and toward the store, she said, "Stay sharp, Felipe."

Señora Gutierrez, from the first glance, wasn't going to be as cooperative as Felipe.

She didn't look at Jill as she finished restocking a shelf before heading around the counter. Her words didn't come out as a question. "No va a comprar algo." You're not going to buy something.

Jill glanced at her from the door before she pulled out a bottle of soda and walked over to the counter. Señora Gutierrez wasn't subtle with her suspicion, keeping her arms crossed before she started tapping at the register. Telling Jill the price, she gathered the money toward her before she added, "La vi con Felipe. ¿Qué quiere?" I saw you with Felipe. What do you want?

"Él me dijo que usted me podría ayudar." He said you could help me.

"Quizás. Dígame por qué." Maybe. Tell me why.

She weighed her options. Jill knew she could lead with the money like she had with Guzman. Felipe's words came back to her about the woman in front of her. She decided on a different angle. Pulling off her hat, she moved her bag to the front of her body. Jill pulled out the photo of the building. She tapped her finger on it. "Estoy buscando a un amigo. Creo que él estaba aquí. Estoy preocupada de que…algo más le haya pasado." I'm looking for my friend. I think he was here. I'm worried… something has happened to him. Can you help me?

The woman searched Jill's eyes. She was quite older than Jill, but the shifting of emotions on Senora Gutierrez' face hinted at a long and eventful life. Life of pain. Life of loss. She picked up the photo and with a heaved breath, she studied it. "Esto es un lugar de refugio. Nadie hace preguntas. Pagas y te puedes quedar. Tu amigo…¿está en un lío?" This is a place of refuge. No one asks questions. You pay, and you get to stay. Your friend… is he trouble?

Jill tilted her head. "No lo sé." I don't know.

They held each other's gaze. Señora Gutierrez sighed once more, before moving away from the counter and to the back. Jill leaned back scanning and noticing someone watching from an alleyway across the way. Jill turned forward when she returned, unfolding a map. She circled a building with a pen."Aquí. Está a diez cuadras de aquí. Sigue por la calle y lo verás." Here. It's ten blocks from here. Follow that road and you'll see it. She leaned over the counter and pointed down the street.

Jill placed the envelope down, knowing the woman before her had helped without knowing there'd be a payment. Señora Gutierrez shook her head. Jill took a couple steps back away from the counter. She didn't follow her, and Jill was glad. Jill uttered, "Para su familia." For your family.

Then she turned, picked up a bag of chips. "Me llevo esto también." I'll take this too.

"Con cuidado. Es un lugar de refugio. Y para esconderse también." Be careful. It's a place of refuge. And hiding, too

Once she made it across the street, it was Jill's turn to watch from the shadows as she spotted Felipe rushing inside. Señora Gutierrez ran a hand over his hair, giving him a kiss atop her head. She knew people all around the world, and it was strangers who'd often shown Jill the most kindness.

She could only hope the knife and the money were helpful in the risk they'd taken in helping her.

With a last glance, she straightened from where she leaned and headed down the street: to the last known location one of her connects had seen Carlos Oliveira.

The sun was setting when she arrived. People lingered, and she ignored the man smoking outside that watched her go into the building. She waited more than an hour before a man near her age entered the lobby.

"Disculpe." Excuse me.

He ignored her, and she followed behind until he reeled around with a nasty look. She shoved the photo of Carlos she had in his face."¿Cuál número de apartamento?" What apartment?

The man tried to hide it but she'd seen it. Recognition. He looked past her hand to her face. "¿Quién eres?" Who are you?

"Una amiga. ¿Cuál número de apartamento?"A friend. What apartment?

"No lo conozco." I don't know him. He pointed at the photo, then slowly moved it toward her. "Ni a tí tampoco. Ahora vete de aquí o te saco yo."Or you. Now get lost or I'll kick you out myself.

With a sigh, she pulled out the other envelope and held it out. "¿Qué tal ahora? ¿Lo conoces?" How about now? Do you know him?

"¿Crees que me importa el dinero?" You think I care about money?

"Tú dime. O lo encuentro yo y no se te da el dinero." You tell me. Or I find it anyway and you don't get any money.

"¿Qué está pasando aquí?" What's going on here?

A man slightly older than her was behind her, frowning.

Jill looked at him over her shoulder. "Estoy buscando a un amigo que vive aquí." I'm looking for my friend who lives here.

"Yo la puedo ayudar con eso. Soy el dueño. Pare de molestar a los inquilinos." I can help you with that. I'm the landlord. Stop harassing my tenants.

When she followed behind the landlord, she caught the previous man shooting him a warning look. Jill flashed a smile as she walked past him. "Gracias por la ayuda." Thanks for the help. He stormed off toward the doors.

"Este es mi amigo." Here's my friend.

The man waved his hand after glancing at the photo, leading the way down the hall and up the stairs. "Julio no ha estado aquí por meses. Él me dio dinero para que me quedara con apartamento pero si él no aparece, voy a tener que poner a rentar su apartamento." Julio hasn't been around in months. He paid me off to keep his room but if he doesn't show up soon, I'm giving it up. You see him, tell him he's responsible.

The man led her to the room at the end of the hall on the third floor. Her heart steadily thudded as the man kept ranting, unlocking the door. He led the way inside. Jill tuned in as he said. "Me agrada de que alguien haya venido. Estoy cansado de no poner a rentar. ¿Está buscando un lugar?" I'm glad someone showed up. I'm tired of not renting. Are you looking for a place?

"No."

The man grinned. Jill took in the small room. It was hardly a place to live, but there was a bed, a quilt pulled across it. A chair near the window. A small table with two dining chairs. A rusted old fridge. Two doors and the smallest balcony that could only fit a chair.

"La dejo pues." I'll leave you to it, then.

It was so… normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. It looked as if he had just stepped out for dinner and was coming back. Where had he gone? He must've known, then, that he would be gone for a while if he paid off the landlord.

She started searching the room. No personal items. Old food in the fridge. Beer on the door. She pulled open the first closed door after she was done with the kitchen- a small closet. She stared at it, the clothes all still there. Checked pockets. Receipts. Change. Money. Checked the shoes. Nothing.

The remaining door was the bathroom. Crammed and nothing to be seen.

Standing in the center of the room, she knew something was here.

She studied the walls, the lining, the floor.

Jill found what she was looking for beneath the kitchen table after she sat down, boot pressing into the floor and hearing a creak. She moved the table out the way, the slightest height difference between two parts of the floor. Using her knife, she was able to wedge into the small space and pull up one part. She reached in, hands brushing several items and pulling it all out one by one.

His passport. His wallet with his real ID. Dog tags. A notebook. And a thick stack of envelopes bound together with a rubber band. Her attention was snagged on the notebook until she froze at the writing on the first envelope. It was a returned letter.

It had her name on it and her old address.

He'd known about her the way she knew about him, too.

She flipped back each envelope and saw each and every single one was returned. Each was signed Julio Mendoza, and she noted there were three separate addresses he must've stayed at. Three different places and times he was sending her letters that kept coming back. Why did he try? Pausing at the one on the very bottom, her stomach tensed. It was the only one not with her name. It was addressed to you.

Shoving everything all into her backpack, she did one last sweep of the place before making for the door. As her hand found the handle, her ears caught on a low voice. The tone was off. She moved away from the door, eyes going to the window just as the door slammed open.

Stepping back, she avoided just in time as the man who'd refused to help her thrusted a knife toward her stomach. Behind him was the man who'd watched her entering the building, raising a gun toward her.

She disarmed the guy with the knife before breaking his wrist and shoving him toward the gun, kicking the door closed and diving to the side as the gun went off, bullets flying through the door. She pulled Carlos' gun out, checked the ammo before she shot back, listening for their return fire and taking the moment to shove the kitchen table in front of the door. She ran for the balcony, calculating the height before climbing over and hanging down, dropping into the second floor balcony beneath. Peering inside the apartment, she ignored the scream of the woman inside with her children as she pulled the door open and ran through. She sprinted the last flight down and out the building, racing to the street.

Just as she reached the end of the street, she saw a car peel out from the apartment and toward her.

"Fuck!" She hissed, racing around the corner. She kept on, calculating and running down an alley. She didn't know where she was going but she'd worry about that after she shook these assholes off.

They were able to race down the alleyway she'd just cleared, and she looked toward her left and right. There were people walking around but not enough. After a split second, she sprinted into the streets. Car tires squealed as they swerved and jerked to a stop, honking their horns. Hearing a crash behind her, she narrowly avoided the last one barreling past her before she looked back and saw the car chasing her had been T-boned. The driver was already out of the car, stumbling to his feet. She kept running.

The next street over, the man was reeling as he looked around the crowd of tourists.

Jill was nowhere to be found.

It was closer to morning when Jill went back to the place she was staying. She wanted to be completely confident they weren't tailing her. She settled at the edge of the bed as she flipped through the notebook.

Endless notes.

Jill scanned them, the weight in her stomach growing heavier and heavier as she realized just how deep Carlos had gone. Putting the notebook aside for a moment, she pursed her lips before pulling the envelopes toward her and opening the one on top.

Hey Supercop,

I've been thinking about when's the right time to contact you. I figured a badass like you would have the government monitoring her mail. If not, I recommend you consider that. People like you are a threat. I guess, so am I…

I'm not good at this. At looking within or whatever. But I have all this time, I'm alone in this place. Figured I'd try.

When I first came down here I was numb. It felt like a dream. To erase yourself, to try and rewrite yourself, it's a lot harder than you'd think. Then I couldn't stop thinking about my old life. How everything wasn't simple before R City, how it wasn't all peachy and rainbows. But it was mine. It was a life.

My anger hasn't left. It's always been here. Stewing. It hasn't gotten better, I just had to let it sleep as I tried to find some form of sanity. But it's always here. In fact, it's been my one and only friend. Thinking of those fuckers and what they did. Thinking of that day. I came here because the government wouldn't understand. What I realized was that was an excuse.

I came here because I can't rest until all of that shit is put to rest.

No. I can't rest until I'm convinced Nikolai is gone. Until I know that they're not ruining millions of lives like they did that day.

He wasn't the mastermind, but he was a traitor. And if he hadn't been, more people would be alive. Maybe we could've saved more people. Maybe Umbrella would actually be done like the government tries to claim it is.

Jill continued reading. The next and the next. Each addressed to her. Hey Supercop, Dear Jill, To my dearest and only friend.

They were ramblings of his findings and of his theories. He signed them all Julio. He signed them all as the mask he'd had to put on because the both of them knew life was never the same after Racoon City. She'd gone on and tried to find satisfaction in the other evil she'd taken down, and he… he never left. He stayed there.

She came to the last letter addressed to her. It was short, alarmingly short. It was urgent. After reading it, her fingers traced your letter before she put all of them away in her backpack.

Jill wanted to leave right away. Regroup, fill you in, and get this done.

She needed to stay a little longer.

Carlos had given her the puzzle pieces.

It was time to solve it.

Notes:

i want to give all my gratitude and love to my friend Lo who really helped shape and bring this chapter together! this chapter is special to me because of jill, because of exploring another place and perspective altogether, and because of incorporating Spanish, which couldn't have been done without my lovely friend Lo!

i hope that the italicized English translations and interpretations weren't bothersome (as in, it takes you out of the story. Lo said it doesn't and I trust her opinion 💜).

i would love to hear your feedback! what do you think? jill has uncovered some information about carlos! were you expecting something like this? anyways i love jill and hope you do too. things are heating up.

- august

Chapter 34: as long as i'm here (xxxiv)

Notes:

it's been ages since i brought up RE characters and their Hogwarts houses. i didn't want to just not ever bring it up again. i'm still not confident at all so i'll just tell you my thought process so far. (this isn't their characters in my fic, but their canon selves):

leon - gryffindor/hufflepuff
claire - hufflepuff
ada - ravenclaw
jill - ravenclaw/ gryffindor
chris - slytherin
ethan - gryffindor

i'm very surface level knowledgeable on hogwarts houses though so i would love to hear your opinions. this is just where i landed so far!

hope you like the chapter!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

There was a wrinkle in your shirt.

Everything had been okay. For the first time in who knows how long, being with Leon last night had you settled. There was no looming danger. No aching pain. You didn't forget everything else, but in his presence? You were safe.

Then he had to go. You held onto that security for as long as you could. Tried to go about a semi-normal night routine. When you finally dozed off, you were tricked into thinking it would be an okay dream. A dream where you get to see Carlos, where life has returned. That sense of foreboding hit you and the dream morphed. Carlos accusing you of forgetting about him, of leaving him behind. Of making a life where he's nothing in it.

You didn't sleep much after that.

Despite that, you tried to keep a level head. Today marked the first day of the mission Archer was assigned to; you needed to be focused.

The morning went along with a typical routine, ignoring that same foreboding that came with being back in your apartment. You ignored it. You tried to recall how it'd felt to be with Leon.

Here you were on the elevator up.

There was a wrinkle in your shirt.

You'd spent the better part of the morning making sure your appearance reflected your goal. You'd picked an outfit to appear pristine and put together. With no appetite you managed to even stomach a small breakfast.

There was a wrinkle in your shirt.

You sat down at your desk. As you situated yourself, you made note of the manila folder Archer had left for you at your desk. You prepared, all the while regretting that second cup of coffee now that you noted how fast your heart was beating.

Your hand smoothed down your side over the wrinkle in your shirt.

You stared at the monitor as you pictured ironing it out with your hand.

"Hawk. This is Condor Two. Come in."

"This is Hawk, I copy." You moved your hand from the wrinkle as you began. You poured your focus and attention on providing support for Archer. He was his usual collected and steady self; it made it all the more easier to be present. At one point, he'd even attempted to crack a joke to lighten you up.

Your laugh had sounded out of place. It rang out in your mind like it was in a large and empty room.

Around late afternoon your shoulders lost some of their stiffness. You were reading the information Archer had provided you when you received word he was following a lead that could potentially lead to him acquiring a sample.

The air escaped from your lungs.

The updates were consistent and nothing out of place.

At the rate he was working, this mission that had been long and well prepared for may be over at any moment.

When there was a moment of reprieve, you still turned your attention to how to provide support for Archer. Reviewing the information again, your attention snagged on a piece of information. The document itself was fine- you'd reviewed it on your own the last time you were in the office. One particular contact stood out to you- the pilot who'd been contacted for the mission had changed.

"Calling for Hawk."

You connected with Archer. The update was one that loosened your nerves further. Everything was continuing on without a hitch. It was late afternoon when Archer reached out and delivered good news: he'd acquired a solid sample.

It was your queue and you had the pilot on standby.

"Condor Two reporting."

Your hand smoothed down your side. Your eyes were stinging from lack of blinking.

"Standing by," You updated him, eyes on the helicopter's coordinates.

"Eyes on the helicopter. Approaching."

You held your breath.

"Taking flight. Another one under our belts, Hawk. Good looking out."

Watching the helicopter's coordinates updating as it moved, your body sagged in your desk chair.

"I should be saying that to you," You said, light-headed at the relief- or possibly at the stress of the day.

"Agent's only as good as their back up-" The abrupt cutoff had your face falling. Your eyes jumped to the tracker on one of your computer screens. The helicopter was still moving. Archer was still on board.

"Condor Two? Lost your signal there. Say again."

There was static, then a piercing sound as you winced and wrenched off the headset until it subsided. An unfamiliar and low voice cut through before it was static again. "Condor Two? Say again."

"Helicopter has been… Do you read me? Over."

Your mouth went dry. You hadn't heard what Archer had said but the urgency in his voice made you still. "Say again."

"...Come in. Hawk, do you read me? Helicopter… compromised. I repeat, Helicopter has been-" The line cut. There wasn't even the sound of static.

Your hand was gripping your shirt. Your eyes went to the screen tracking the helicopter. It was completely gone. The helicopter, Archer's tracker. It had disappeared.

No.

It had been taken out.

You clicked at your keyboard and hovered on the screen where the helicopter had been.

Your chest hurt. Why did it hurt?

You sat there blinking rapidly, and your hand went to your chest, gripping your shirt there. There was another wrinkle now.

You were frantic for air as you tried contacting Archer again and again. There wasn't even a connection or a signal going through. You tried the pilot. Nothing.

There was nothing.

A pressure on your shoulder and you flinched back, eyes sliding up to Ingrid. You blinked as you took in her facial expression. The set understanding.

She said your name.

You squeezed your eyes closed and the room was tilting.

Sounds flooded in.

The quiet voices of your team. The air conditioning. Ingrid's voice telling you to take breaths and to follow her lead.

You focused on that. Breathing in. Breathing out.

Her hand on your shoulder grounded you as your heart came down.

Staring at the screen, the words barely came out. "He's gone. I-I lost him."

Her grip tightened. "Oh, sweetie."

You were wrong about waking up from the nightmare. The nightmare continued on, and always would, wouldn't it?

The walk to Director Connors' office was long for your heart and quick for your mind. You smoothed your hands down your shirt before you knocked on the door.

She already knew.

"Sit down."

You looked around her office. There were several plants. Healthy and alive.

You winced.

Helicopter… compromised.

He was urgent, desperate. You had failed him.

She said your name and you dragged your eyes up to meet hers. You'd expected disappointment or fury. You'd expected that coldness she granted you in a meeting when you hadn't met her expectations.

Instead, there was a common understanding. You frowned as she clasped her hands above her desk. "This is your first. What you do, what they do, none of it is easy. There's no getting used to it. Archer was a fine agent."

You squinted at her. She nodded her head along, looking toward a picture frame that you couldn't see. "Take the remainder of the week off."

Gritting your teeth, you ignored the stones lodged within you. You ignored Archer's voice in your ears. "I can do what I need to. I don't need sympathy."

"That's where you're wrong. It's not sympathy. There's not much I can give you. In fact," She tilted her head as her tone lifted, "I give you more grief than anything. Submit your case and then take the time. It's an order."

You stormed out, your skin alight and your pulse thrumming.

Why weren't you reprimanded? Why weren't you punished?

Why was she compassionate now?

Breathing hard, you rubbed at your face before you logged everything that occurred. When you got to the end, you shut your thoughts off and pushed through it. Once you were done, you gathered your bag and headed out.

On the elevator ride down, you inspected the wrinkles on your shirt.

You leaned into the wall of the elevator unsure if you could hold yourself up. Closed your eyes.

The anger was gone, lacking any foundation.

All that was left was a gaping and aching well.

Though the sun was barely setting, the apartment was overcome with shadow.

You took a few steps, letting your bag fall to the floor right before you settled right there on the wood beside it. Your head bowed with your hands bracing your weight.

The cold from the wood seeped into your hands

As it bubbled up inside of you, you tried to focus on that.

You curled up on the floor there.

Almost wishing… maybe wishing… that the shadows would swallow you whole.

There was a gavel sounding. Three times. A pause. Another three times. Carlos' brown eyes shining in the dark. Accusing you. Why can't you find me? You're sitting cozy in your new life. Happy.

You gasped, feeling arms on you as you thrashed.

"It's me! It's me, Chris!"

You blinked in the darkness, his face shadowed but lit by the newly lit living room lamp. You looked around, seeing his arms were in the middle of scooping you up. "What- how did you get in?"

"Me."

Your eyes widened before you looked past him to Claire near the front door. Hair tied up messily, sitting in a wheelchair with her arm in a sling and her leg in a cast. You looked away after a moment passed, were unable to face her.

"You're really going to act like you're breaking up with me?"

"I forgot I gave you a spare key."

"Good thing you did, otherwise I would've broken some laws and called in a firefighter to break down this damn door. I promised Chris the first thing I would do when I got out was to see you. Since, you know, you didn't come back again."

Your gaze shot to Chris, who was looking at his sister. "You can let go of me, you know."

He did as he uttered, "You know it was stupid coming back here, LUNA."

Your body was stiff as you climbed to your feet, bone tired as you looked at the both of them. "I appreciate you both stopping by-"

"If you finish that sentence-" Claire burst out. She had stunned you into silence, yanking all of your thoughts away. When she collected herself, she shot you a sickly sweet smile. "I know you better than you think. Which is how I know you're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

You looked to Chris, who did you the favor of not looking at you. You knew he'd be no ally in this. He should be.

"Not now."

"What?" Claire asked.

"Please. Just not now," You turned away and when you thought of them in your apartment and how alone you still felt, you wondered if that was the curse of the life you were destined to have.

"Okay." You turned back, shocked at Claire's resolute nod. "Okay, not now. However, since you're not going to stay with me, I'll stay with you."

"What?" You and Chris both said. Now he wanted to back you up?

"Claire, no," You shook your head. "That's not happening."

"Why not? I already packed a blow up air mattress."

You motioned at her, exclaiming, "Look at you! You're not going to heal any quicker if you're sleeping on an air mattress."

"Then the couch. Or your bed."

"Claire-"

"No. You don't get to do this. I don't know if you think this is somehow protecting me, but you're running away. And-" Claire's face had gone red and your heart squeezed, seeing the witty and passionate woman she was losing her cool. Because of you. "And I refuse. I-"

"Claire, it was my fault! You got hurt because of me!" You cried out.

You couldn't look at either of them. Not when you were the cause of Claire being hurt. Not when you knew they would leave and they should.

"What are you talking about?" Claire practically spit, and you knew she wouldn't believe you. So you stormed off to your room, to your desk, and brought back the photo, thrusting it out to her. Not having it in you to try and keep up this ruse. Needing all of them to just leave. Leave you.

Claire looked at the photo, glancing up at you as she turned it over. Her face only grew more stern. "Motherfucker," She muttered.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you turned away from them.

"What is it? Let me see," You heard Chris take it from her and then silence.

You stiffened when his voice was carefully controlled. "Is this why you left Claire's?"

You didn't answer.

There was a sound, almost like something hitting skin, before you felt a hand on your back. Chris said, "LUNA."

When you turned your head away from him, you realized Claire had come to the other side of you. They weren't leaving.

Unable to bear looking at Claire, you looked at him. His face wasn't resentful, he wasn't blaming you. He held the photo between the two of you, eyes steadily on you. "This isn't your fault. Whoever is targeting you, targeted her."

"Because of me."

"No." His voice was steel, filling up the entirety of the room. Your heart ached. It reminded you of growing up. Of self doubts and older brother comfort. "Because of them."

You spun to face Claire, frantic suddenly. You heard Archer's voice. You heard Carlos' accusations in your dreams. "Claire, you could've died-" The word croaked out of you and you pushed on, "because of me. Don't you see? Being around me isn't good for you, for any of you."

"What did I tell you? You're family. That doesn't mean we leave you when it gets tough." Chris said and your heart squeezed, his words hitting home. You looked at Claire and realized her eyes were welled with tears. You'd never seen her cry.

"Claire…" You whispered in shock.

"Let us be there for you. I know… if the roles were reversed, you wouldn't give up on me. So I won't give up on you. Let me be here."

Her words hung in the air for just a moment before you nodded. You kept nodding because you couldn't trust your voice. You hugged her and kissed the top of her head. You weren't strong enough to push her away or anyone away any longer, not when they'd proven wrong everything you'd believed about people leaving you. You could give her that. If it came down to that or protecting her, though, it would be protecting her every time. For now, you'd let her be. After all, if you kept running she'd just keep chasing you.

"I'll be honest… today I'm not going to be the greatest roommate," You said as you felt yourself mentally retreating. In Claire fashion, she noticed right away and turned her attention to Chris.

"What?" He asked

You looked at him too as you quietly asked, "Are you going to be staying too or do you actually have a demanding job like you claim you do?"

His face twisted. "I'm just as busy as Kennedy, alright? Though, I did manage to get two weeks off to be with Claire. Not that they had a choice."

"Aw, so sweet. Thanks for looking out," Claire flashed him a smile before hooking her thumb to the door, "Now pick us up some dinner, will you?"

He crossed his arms, tongue sliding across his teeth as if he were trying to compose himself. "What am I, your chauffeur?"

"Precisely. What did you say back at the hospital? That you'll always take care of me?"

"I regret it now. You're going to hold that over me forever."

"Just for tonight."

"You're lucky I put up with you," He turned to you next, "What would you like to eat?"

You startled, not having paid attention to their conversation at all. Jogging your memory back, you sighed with a feigned smile, "Just… whatever Claire wants, I'm good with."

He was studying you. You were sure you didn't look okay, especially not after they found you on the floor. For whatever reason, he wasn't trying to drill it out of you. You shot him a smile of gratitude and he nodded.

"Okay. I'll be back. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"You're taking all the stupid with you," Claire told him and he paused at the door. He slowly turned to look at her and she wriggled her fingers at him in a wave.

You sunk into the couch. "You're unbearable."

"One of my many charms. Now what's going on?"

You couldn't get the sound of Archer's voice out of your head. What could you have done differently? He was just gone. From one moment to the next.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you inhaled sharply.

Claire said your name.

You felt pathetic. There she was, surviving a severe accident worried about you- No. You were tired. Just for tonight… after what they'd said, you didn't feel like being so hard on yourself. You could grant yourself the night.

When you rolled your head to look at her, a tear rolled down the space beside your eye. "The agent I work with… he's gone. He died. Today. And I just…" You shook your head and it made it worse. "I was on the line with him when it happened."

"Shit," Claire whispered, moving closer and grabbing your hand. "That's fucked."

You nodded.

"I don't know if I did all there was to do. I don't know if I did something wrong. It feels like I'm stepping in a field of landmines and I keep setting them off. I don't want to lose anyone else."

Claire's voice was usually breezy nonchalance. Right now it was firm confidence."You won't."

You whispered, "You don't know that."

She gripped your hand tighter. "We can't control everything that happens, that's true. But we can protect each other. We're all in your corner. We always will be."

"What did I do to deserve you?" You asked. You truly weren't sure why.

She shrugged. "Don't think like that. We're friends. The way I see it, we spend so much of our lives being our own villains. So the good stuff? Hang onto it no matter what our minds try to tell us."

"Wow. Have you ever thought of becoming a motivational speaker?"

"Bleh," She twisted her face in disgust and you weakly laughed. "Help me get on the couch? Maybe we can watch something."

You helped and as the two of you settled into the couch, she started ranting about how Chris was more annoying than the shows she was watching while in the hospital. In the middle of laughing, you quietly confessed, "Carlos is going to love you."

Claire paused, looking over at you and studying you.

You could read what was there. Surprise.

After some time, it had gotten harder and harder for you to talk about Carlos. The guilt over it was immense, but talking about him had started to feel like he was a ghost and you were trying to keep his memory alive. Now… Now you realized it wasn't like that at all. Carlos is going to love her and that was that.

Claire knocked her head back. "God, think about our brothers together."

You groaned and she swore.

"Somehow, it'll be worse than you and Chris."

"Hey!"

Chris arrived with filled arms, kicking the door closed with his boot. He paused, exhaling in amusement, a fond one.

MTV was quietly playing on the TV. You and Claire were asleep, heads leaning on each other.

Notes:

i know i'm putting y'all through it with the angst, and i'm so sorry for it. i hope you know i mean it (,:
but i hope there was comfort as the chapter went on. just bear with me, it'll be worth it.

i just want to say i was extremely happy you enjoyed jill's chapter, i've waited pretty much since the beginning to reach it and i am incredibly grateful. the next big thing i'm looking forward to in this story is coming in a few chapters and i think it's going to be WILD. think... chapter 15. THAT'S ALL I'LL SAY. Trust me when I say this isn't a spoiler just a little hint. And I just decided to add this little hint, because I was about post this chapter without it. we'll see if I keep it on here haha.

i recently started bridgerton again (the first time i'm not really sure why i didn't continue on after episode 1) and it's incredible I'm OBSESSED. The tension holy shit. Simon is so stunning. Gotta love the slow burn.

-august

Chapter 35: this mirror in your eyes (xxxv)

Notes:

that 35 in roman numerals is so satisfying.

i believe this is the longest chapter thus far! i redid a scene and was really happy the second go around.

can't wait to hear thoughts (:

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Leon had just finished rolling up his sleeve and wrapping up his wound on his arm when Hunnigan reached out for an update. He'd acquired the documents he had been tasked with retrieving and while he was wrapping up and heading for the extraction point, he'd been ambushed. Toward the end of the brawl, a man who must've been lookout barged in while he was taking care of two others and shot at him, hitting his buddies and clipping him in the arm. He made quick work of him and secured a standby location while waiting for pickup.

As he had checked his injury, blankly staring at the wound, he thought of you. For the entirety of the mission he'd had to actively work to keep you from his thoughts in order to do what he had to do, but in moments like this- moments of brief downtime- you either crept up on him or flooded him.

How he'd wanted to stay.

The unfamiliar twist in his chest gave him more than enough reason to push that out as well, focusing on the task at hand.

Before he could slip back into that feeling, Hunnigan reached out.

He gave her the update, clear cut and concise. She gave her usual collected and confident responses, letting him know the extraction was to take place momentarily.

With another mission done, another bullet taken and survived, he focused on his deep breaths as he waited. Then, that ache rose up again. So unfamiliar and tense. It crawled around inside of him, prodding at him until without much thought his voice began to craft a neutral tone. "How's-"

He cut himself off and it turned the ache into regret. It wasn't the time nor the place, and he'd never had this issue before.

Still…

He settled. Thinking of you in his apartment, peeking into what little was said about him in that place. Staring up at him and saying "Your eyes" like he was supposed to accept that. Even standing in his apartment, you'd filled it in a way he'd never understood until he witnessed it with his own eyes.

"Let's focus on getting you out of there first, yeah?"

"Okay." His eyes went to the blood crusted under his fingernails and he pursed his lips in distaste. Then Hunnigan's words came back to him. It wasn't the words themselves- she was always careful to keep her head collected so it hadn't surprised him- but it was the slight lilt at the end. His stomach dropped. The lilt was concealed as light-hearted.

Something was wrong.

"Did something happen?"

"Condor One," She warned.

His voice was sharp and his mind was loud. He demanded, "What happened?"

"She's fine, Agent. Worry about yourself and getting out of there. The helicopter is set to land."

Leon listened closely, the ache receding at her sincerity. It was a lot harder this time to collect and hide away his thoughts about you. It wasn't like him to lose his head like this. With a deep breath, he focused on making it to the helicopter. He said, "I'll be back soon."

"I know you will."

It wasn't so bad being wrong, sometimes.

In the past, you'd placed your trust in people who you thought would be a part of your life forever. They'd left you, betrayed you, hurt you. You could deny it all you want but it had changed you and hardened you even further knowing they did it in the wake of Carlos' disappearance. You had trudged along, not fully realizing how determined Claire was to set up residence in your life. That led to her brother doing the same, and it all led you to here… to this job, to Leon…

It was terrifying to not have all the pieces to protect her or yourself. Knowing you didn't have to do it on your own made it bearable.

The apartment wasn't filled with shadows while she stayed; that wasn't solely because Claire hated lack of light. Music was always playing, and Claire had managed to convince Chris to watch a romance movie marathon with the two of you the other day. It was a memory you'd cherish forever, Claire complaining whenever the male love interest would screw up and Chris would brood in silence after being forced into watching- by the end, he'd always have a thoughtful opinion about the movie.

He ignored your protests whenever he'd come around in the evenings and cook dinner or bring food for the two of you. At nights, Claire had taken to checking on you. It should've been the other way around, and you'd said so but she just flipped you off. After a day, you'd told her to just share the room with you if she was so concerned as a biting remark. She'd taken the liberty with satisfaction, and taken most of the room in the bed.

With the combination of the two of them filling your lives, it made it hard to slip into those shadows in which you'd grown accustomed and comfortable.

The second morning after not getting much rest (despite having broken bones, Claire slept like she had no worry in the world and took up all of the space), she told her she was going to check out a class at Joan's.

Claire paused mid-chew. She nodded as she finished swallowing, then said, "I'm glad you're going back to that. I'm sorry I can't be your gym buddy like I planned-"

Your voice came out tired. "Please don't apologize. Not for getting hurt."

She didn't say anything to that. She moved on as she spread jam on her toast. "When is the class? Maybe Chris can take you."

Truthfully Claire hadn't been subtle in the slightest about wanting to keep you out of harm's way. If it were anyone else, maybe she'd feel like she was a child being doted after. And if it were different circumstances. It'd taken you some time, but you realized all of them cared about you and were looking out for you with the best intentions.

So you said, "That'd be nice."

The kind of common silence between you and Chris was comforting.

Spending time with him made it evident that the initial frustration with him was all that really reminded you of Carlos; the two were actually quite different. Sure, they both carried that incessant quality of being annoying at the most inconvenient times, but he was a lot more reserved and serious than Carlos.

He also really liked listening to old music. 50's and 60's music.

"What time should I pick you up?"

"It's really okay-" You saw the look on his face and held back a sigh, "The class ends at 4:30."

Chris nodded and drove off after you headed inside.

Every day whenever you felt the events of work creeping into your mind, you got ready and went to Joan's. You were sore, and you were out of shape, but it was all-consuming throwing yourself into focus and technique. It was then you started to understand a little bit more of Leon's behavior.

However, there were times you lost your focus.

It was detrimental.

Sure, for the classes you were taking. Mostly it was detrimental to your mind. The nausea or the breathlessness, the distraction of your doubts festered in you and grew. It was too much for you to accept or to face, so you threw yourself into the class harder.

The nightmares had become overwhelming. Nightmares of Carlos dying, of accusing you, of coming after you.

You wondered if you should leave the FOS. You wondered- this was where you'd entirely freeze up in class and get slammed onto your ass by your sparring partner- if you should even let go.

You'd been so sure this was the right thing to do. You couldn't give up on Carlos. You just couldn't.

Then why were you growing heavier with every second? What else would they do to keep you from continuing on? Their threats were pretty clear, having hurt Claire. What was to stop them from doing worse?

Every time you thought of letting go, though, the betrayal to Carlos was so fierce you lost all senses for a concerning amount of moments.

Then your partner would pin you and drag you back into focus.

It was an exhausting and gratifying experience.

The entirety of the week was spent like that. Come Saturday morning, Claire blocked you from showering to get ready for a class.

"No. Today, we're spending the day doing something else."

You blinked. "A class isn't going to take all day."

Claire couldn't cross her arms but the look she gave you was similar. "Uh-huh. For regular people. For you? If you don't do more than one class, you over-exert yourself so hard you sleep the rest of the day away. Your muscles are all stiff! Take a break!"

"What are you, my mother?" You scoffed, then the defensiveness fell away. Rubbing at your eyes, you sighed. "I'm sorry. I just… I need it, right now, Claire. To stay occupied. To…" To run away. You didn't want to face all your traitorous thoughts. It wouldn't get you anywhere because you were stuck. There was no way you could let go of finding Carlos yet there was no way to do it with a clear conscience.

"I understand that. So let's occupy it in another way."

You narrowed your eyes at her mischievous look.

It was late Saturday afternoon when Leon was finally done with all of his mandatory meetings he had to have after getting back. He was light-headed from only drinking coffee today and having nothing to eat, and his arm was throbbing after someone knocked into him trying to rush out of the conference room.

He paused when he came to the desks for the FOS agents, swallowing when his gaze moved over your desk. He landed on Hunnigan, who was loudly typing away at her computer. Leon was only able to take one step before his vision was cut off- another FOS agent. He racked his mind, first recalling how Hunnigan complained about the woman's lack of tact and organization skills before landing on a name. Daisy….?

"Heard the mission was yet another success. I wasn't surprised in the slightest," She said, flashing him a smile.

He knew all too well with that smile meant and internally he sighed. On the outside, he nodded. "Just doing what I'm told."

She laughed. Loudly. Pointedly. Moved her red hair over her shoulder as his gaze flicked past her shoulder. Hunnigan's chair had swiveled and her expression was carefully constructed. His stomach churned. He realized Daisy had said something and tried to recall it. Something about only he would make it sound so easy. Something about how unfortunate it was that not every agent was as capable as him.

He thought of what he'd usually say. Something to be friendly, to even be charming sometimes. He thought of all the times he'd wanted someone to approach him genuinely or without looking for something from him. He thought of you.

"I'm sorry, I have to-" Her smile faded as he pointed behind her before he side-stepped her and went over to Hunnigan. Hunnigan swiveled back to face her screen, clicking away as he leaned on her cubicle.

Hunnigan sang under her breath, "You should've seen the look on her face as you walked away."

He ignored that, nodding at her screen. "Finishing up the file?"

"All done. Just reading it one last time before submitting."

"Thorough as always." He shifted, the questions bubbling up and he couldn't wait any longer-

"How's the arm?" Glancing down at her, she made it a point not to look at him.

"Fine." Sore. It hurt when he moved it even slightly. It was fine.

"Tough as always." Hunnigan finally looked at him. He didn't like what he saw. "You haven't heard yet, have you?"

In the next breath he said, "Tell me."

"Agent Archer is dead."

The words didn't register for the slightest moment. He took them in, picked them apart. Death was common in this line of work, and lots of special agents never came home. Often he wondered what mission would be his last. An ice washed over him thinking of Archer.

He straightened from leaning on the desk, eyes trailing away as he thought of Daisy's words. It's unfortunate not every agent is as capable as you.

Lack of tact indeed. It was disgusting.

His eyes slid closed a moment. "LUNA. How is she?" This time he didn't stop himself. He couldn't if he tried, but he was already mapping out walking out of this office as soon as he could and driving straight to you.

When he opened his eyes, Hunnigan was watching him with a look stacked with meaning.

She didn't need to say anything, so she just said, "She's been out all week. The director gave her time."

He thought of you all alone in that apartment since he left and his heart clenched.

Fuck.

Running a hand down his face, he nodded as he let everything sink in before knocking on her cubicle. "Thanks for… thanks."

She nodded, quieter than usual. "Of course."

There was still work to be done.

He would always be worked like a machine.

So he worked, all the while thinking of the moment he got to leave. More than once, he picked up his cell phone and flipped it over, thumb hovering over the call button for your contact. He stopped himself, knowing he was unable to resist going to see you.

It was dark and hardly anyone was in the office when he was able to go.

With a wince, he first made a pit stop at his place. Showered, changed into comfier clothes, and cleaned his wound on his upper arm. Shrugging on a jacket was more difficult than he'd like, so he settled for his baggiest black bomber and headed out the door.

He probably should've been more mindful of how he didn't really have to pay attention anymore on the drive to yours. Leon blinked and could hardly remember the drive.

At your front door, he scanned his surroundings while rubbing his neck. What if you were annoyed at him showing up unannounced?

He knocked.

He was okay with that.

There were several moments of suspended anticipation. He was looking forward to seeing you after several days, getting a refill of being in your presence was precious and he'd take what he could get. Then his worry whispered in his ear, reminding him that not only were you were struggling with every other fucked up thing in your life, Agent Archer had died on the mission you were supporting him on.

The door opened and he paused.

Chris paused as well, before his mouth quirked. "Don't you look happy to see me," Chris drawled, forearm leaning on the door as he widened it.

Leon paused. Swallowing back the ugly feeling that rose in him whenever he thought of your closeness to Chris, he tried to push down the thought that he was interrupting-

"Who is it?" Claire.

"It's our resident Ken doll," Chris' eyes gleamed and Leon rolled his eyes. Real nice.

"Leon?" You stepped into view and his initial annoyance dissipated.

You. You looked tired but your face was open and had a brief surprise before it softened into something… he didn't want to assume you were happy to see him, so he said, "Hey."

Nice. Internally, he winced.

You flicked a glance at Chris before looking back at him, "Well what are you doing just standing there? Come in."

You didn't question the thundering of your heart- in fact, you ignored it altogether as you led the two of them into the apartment. Over your shoulder, you said, "We were just sitting down to eat. Chris made stew."

Behind you, you heard Chris' signature gruff. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing." Was that… amusement in Leon's voice?

"You seriously think it's funny I made stew?"

"No," There was a pause, "You're just very… Woodsman-like."

"Woodsman?" You sat down and watched their little exchange, Chris' confusion obvious. Claire couldn't hold back her laughter as she snorted. He reeled to look at her. "Who the hell is Woodsman?"

Claire couldn't hold it in, cackling at him. Leon stood just out of the light that came down from above the dining room table but even then, you could make out his features. Maybe you were forever wired to be aware of him. There was a softness in his expression before his gaze flicked to you. A hint of a smile.

Shaking your head, you bit back a smile and said, "Red Riding Hood, Chris."

Chris mulled it over before he scowled at Leon and sat at the table. "In the Red Riding Hood I grew up with, there's no Woodsman anyway."

Claire feigned wiping a tear and Chris told her to cut it out.

"Have you eaten?" You asked as you set down the bread rolls. Leon was still standing back, as if he were disrupting. The thought made your heart twist, thinking of Ingrid's words about people assuming he's all good on his own. About wondering if he would be happy to be a part of something. You circled the table and came to a stop beside him, hand hovering over his upper arm. "Join us."

Your words were firm and when you held each other's gaze, your eyes went to his mouth, his lips parting. You abruptly turned away, heading to the kitchen to finish gathering the sides. When you turned, Leon was slowly pulling up his sleeves and stepping to the sink; the weight in his eyes as they followed you could've had you stumbling if you weren't aware.

Leon was back.

The room's shadows were now completely gone.

He sat across from you. The two of you mostly stayed quiet, but every once in a while you would sneak glances at each other. The stew was warm and flavorful, and Chris grumbled when you complimented it- you were going to ignore the slight flush on his neck but Claire teased him and you found yourself joining in, laughing quietly at his facial expression.

You kept eating, noting that Leon for once didn't sport any bruises or cuts on his face- though that didn't mean there weren't any injuries hiding beneath his clothes- gaze traveling up his wrists and the skin visible at his sleeves- you cleared your throat and paused, seeing he was watching you.

Abruptly, you turned to Claire and struck up conversation.

Toward the end of dinner, Claire disappeared and you laughed when you saw Chris and Leon's face pause- then you looked over your shoulder and saw she returned with a monopoly board in her lap and your laugh faded.

"How did you-"

"Because I believed you when you said you would hide it away after the last time we played and watched where you put it."

"I think that's my cue-"

Claire's glare had Chris pausing mid-rise as she hissed, "Sit down."

"Well," You stood and noticed her glare go to you before you raised your hands, "Don't worry, I'm going to play. We just got to clear the table. You set it up and I'll clear the dishes."

Leon added a second after, "I'll help."

Back and forth, Leon carried the dishes as you started clearing plates and then rinsing them. When you peered back into the living room and saw Claire had set up the board and the two of them had gone outside for Chris to smoke, you decided to get the dishwater ready.

Having them all here was more than you could ever want, and with the end approaching you were already mentally retreating as you watched the bubbles multiply.

"Can I help? I can rinse. Or wash."

You blinked away heavier thoughts as you smiled at Leon. You nodded in response and then he crowded your senses.

Your eyes went to his forearms as he pushed up his sleeves again before turning back to the water. It started in silence and though there was no conversation, his presence kept everything at bay. When did he become that for you? Had you let him or did it just happen like that?

Your fingers grazed his and even through the suds and hot water, you felt your skin thrumming.

It'd been days since you saw him. It could've been a day and you'd still feel it. Feel this. Even so, you couldn't afford to think about it.

That's what you told yourself- up until his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist holding a fork and that caution flew out the window as you turned to meet his gaze. He held your wrist there, searching your gaze. He opened his mouth and then hesitated.

Ah. He knew. You dropped your gaze and he dropped your hand.

As you scrubbed at a plate, you whispered, "I can't… I can't stop thinking there was more I could've done." Then you realized what you said and straightened your shoulders. "It's nothing. Sorry. I just, don't worry about me. You shouldn't worry about me. No one was worried about him, right? If they were, maybe-"

"Hey." Your hands were quivering above the water. When had you dropped what you were holding. His voice…. So steady. You couldn't look at him. He didn't mind when he continued, "Don't apologize. And… I know there's no controlling the what ifs but… what happened out there is out of your control. You are incredibly reliable as an agent and you were there for him. It's not on you."

You bit the inside of your cheek and gripped the edge of the sink. When you finally looked at him it wasn't pity or sadness. It was complete faith. Your shoulders relaxed as you found your footing in his gaze. Someone like him, who was always being thrown into danger and being used… to be able to be so kind?

You choked back the tightness in your throat as you dunked your hands back in to find the rag and the plate. You nudged your shoulder into him, trying for a joke as you said, "Is everyone these days fit to be motivational speakers?"

When you glanced you caught the tail end of a tight expression. Not a full wince, but enough. You paused and turned halfway toward him. This time, he was pointedly not looking at you, rinsing and then putting the dishes up.

"Leon."

He side-eyed you and continued. "Yes?"

"You're hurt, aren't you?" He turned to you too and you realized your closeness. There wasn't any embarrassment; he was waiting for your reaction. "Is it bad?"

"A flesh wound."

"You were shot?" He started to rinse again so you grabbed his wrist this time. He swallowed and you tried not to freak out or worry. You tried not to make it hard on him. Except… he looked at you and his face stilled in shock.

"LUNA?"

He was already close but he stepped toward you, tilted his head to keep you from looking away and his fingers brushed at your face… You choked on a laugh, humiliated you were crying but you pictured him on the field. You pictured Hunnigan on the line, supporting him and his line going dark.

Pictured the bullet. The blood. His pain.

"I'm right here. Hey," His hands froze on your cheeks, and the two of you seemed to realize your position. His hands began to move away and a wave struck you then before you leaned into him. There was another pause and then one of his arms went around your back.

So it was his left arm.

You wrapped your arms around him, inhaling deeply and his body wash flooding you. His warmth. His steady heartbeat. You calmed down.

His hand was rubbing circles into your back as you pulled away. He tilted his head. His eyes were darker, indigo in the kitchen light. So layered and understanding. "Sorry." He shook his head. You were sure everything you'd done was enough to keep him speechless for a while. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Nodding, he turned and you blurted, "Are you sure you should be moving it?"

Leon exhaled a brief laugh and you frowned. You stood there watching him, finding him odd in his lack of seriousness about his injuries but knowing it was just a result of his lifestyle. Still…

"I can move it, don't worry," He finally said. When he noticed you still weren't moving, he leaned closer and you stopped breathing as he said, "You make me feel better."

Because you couldn't respond, you continued washing.

Before you could speak up, Claire and Chris came back and she demanded the two of you to wrap it up. With his help, you managed to be finished and he dried his hands before you. As he headed back out, you grabbed onto the back of his jacket with your dry hand. "You make me feel better too."

He only turned his head. His expression suddenly looked so sad.

You gripped onto the back of his jacket tighter, fighting the urge to hug him again.

"I'm glad." Then he was gone.

Once you finished wiping the counters, you turned to see Chris retrieving beers from the fridge. He opened one and leaned on the counter, watching you as he gulped a drink down.

You didn't hold back your What? look at his staring before you turn to dry off your hands. He chose to speak then. "You're closer when he's around."

Your gaze rose but you didn't turn around, everything from before building inside of you. Leon's brief pain flashing when you brushed his injury. Him letting you cry. The tightness in your eyes and throat came back and you forced out, "What?"

"I think being with Claire and Joan's has helped, yeah. But tonight I saw it. Don't even get me started on him."

"Chris," You snapped, not about to have this conversation with him but he was already walking out. You followed behind, the urge to protest rising in you even though you knew it would be lies. "You're unbelievable!"

"Why am I unbelievable?" He looked at you, and you saw Leon and Claire were watching now. Claire looked ready to jump in and defend you and Leon… he made you pause. What was that look on his face? Like… he was carefully trying to keep a blank face.

When you looked back at Chris, you saw the mischief in his eyes and you rolled your eyes, letting it go. Hilarious he was trying to pick you apart when you saw how he acted around Jill. Real original.

When you moved to sit next to Claire, she shoved her elbow into you and you stared at her in

betrayal as she plastered a smile on her face and refused to look at you. "Since I can't grace you with my amazing Banker skills, I'll be nominating Chris and acting as the Banker through him."

"Absolutely not."

"No arguing-"

"Claire, the Banker isn't rocket science. I don't need you to boss me around."

You settled in the chair next to Leon. They argued it out and you tuned them out as you became aware of Leon's hand in his lap. You eyed it, and internally you scolded yourself. You may have these unresolved feelings but you couldn't just continue to torture yourself with them. Not only that, he was there for you and that didn't mean his feelings were mutual.

As you moved your attention to the game board, you landed on the same agreement from earlier. You simply couldn't afford to think about it.

You reached for the dog piece and Leon did as well. You both paused and even though he pushed the piece toward you, you bit back a smile and reached past him to pick up the top hat. In the middle of her conversation with Chris, Claire paused and pointed at the two of you, "Don't even think about the race car."

Shaking your head, you said, "If you'd pay attention, none of us picked that one."

Claire nodded. "Good."

"And stop arguing over the game. There's plenty of room for that once we actually start," You said.

With a reluctant sigh, Claire moved her attention to the game and Chris shot you a grateful look. You rolled your eyes and he picked the battleship before the game got started.

And in your apartment that had festered your fears? A sort of safe haven began to take root. With Claire's passion, Chris' gruffness, Leon's cheesy jokes and stolen glances, and your own targeted remarks.

You had just finished saying your goodbyes before closing the door; Leon was turning away with Chris in tow. His arm was aching and he knew he had to re-dress it once he got home. That wasn't where he was at, though. He was still inside, hearing your occasional laugh. It was hesitant but lovely. Like you carefully dished it out.

At one point, both you and him had stopped playing as hard and it had come down to Claire and Chris' competitiveness trying to take each other's properties. You had trailed over to your couch and had called Leon to join you. There was a particular kind of nerves that came with sitting beside you as he sunk into the couch. Eyes lowering, sleepiness coming on as he smelled your detergent and felt your warmth an arm's length away.

"What? Don't tell me you're considering hitting up The Sparrow again?"

Leon blinked and saw Chris was still standing there too. Then he realized what he said. "Never again."

"Never say never."

He just ignored him as they both walked to the parking lot. He scanned the area, keeping an eye out. When he reached his car, he noted Chris was hovering. Hand on the handle, he turned and silently regarded him.

"When are you going to tell her how you feel?"

It was like someone had reached into his head and wiped away all his thoughts. "Sorry?"

Chris nodded past Leon's shoulder and repeated himself.

"I-" Leon tried to think of words and couldn't. Unfortunately, that meant his mouth worked for him. "It's none of your damn business." He pulled open the door, wanting to get away and then suddenly he didn't want to anymore. He was at war with himself and impulsiveness was winning. Reeling on Chris, memories flooded him. Sitting at the bar. Hearing Chris talk about his dating life, about Claire practically planning the wedding. Chris being the damn Scary Hunk. "Why would you even suggest that? You're not jealous? "

Chris blinked. "Jealous?"

Leon motioned with his hand, "If you're not jealous, I mean that's good. Jealousy is poison. But not even a little bit to even ask me that? You're something else. You think I'm that beneath you, to not even worry? Your ego is-"

"Leon. Why the fuck would I be jealous?"

Leon's rambling tampered off. As he gathered himself, he observed Chris. His eyebrows were scrunched, a look of disdain and confusion in the lines of his face. Leon couldn't possibly see a hunk hiding under that look. He supposed maybe if he smiled? The frustration built again. "You tell me! You said-"

"I said what?"

Why the hell was he mad now? Leon squinted at him. He was confused and didn't have the heart to figure it out. "I'm not doing this. Shouldn't I be asking you when you're going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"Aren't you going to ask LUNA out?"

"Why would I ask her out?"

Leon roughly ran a hand down his face. "Don't play stupid. That night at The Sparrow you weren't shit-faced. You said Claire was planning the wedding."

There. It was out in the open. Leon tried to find it in him to be embarrassed. He wasn't. Since that night, there was disappointment and then there was the challenge of trying to accept it. He just wanted you to be happy-

Chris' face cleared in understanding and Leon frowned noticing he was now holding back a laugh. Leon hated the bitterness in the one word that slipped from him. "Yeah."

Leon moved for his car once again and Chris' hand came down on his shoulder. He tensed. This was pathetic of him, so pathetic- He didn't need to be comforted-

"You are such an idiot."

Leon's anger flared. His voice was eerily calm, unable to find the words again. "Sorry?"

"I don't like LUNA. I mean, sure she's a friend. More than anything, she's family now."

"I don't understand."

"How do you have the title you do?"

"How do you?" Leon knew his response was childish the second he said it. Chris was gracious enough to ignore it.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Chris grabbed his other shoulder as he said, "It's Jill. It always has been for me."

Leon blinked. Blinked again.

It flooded him then. That day. Chris' careful consideration. The subtle staring. Even how he had watched Jill leave.

"Yeah," Chris quoted his defeated little response earlier.

Leon closed his eyes. He couldn't help it, he laughed. "I am an idiot."

"Guess we all are when it comes to love. Now, are you going to answer my question?"

"Which one?" He couldn't have this conversation. At least not with Chris. But… who else?

"When are you going to tell her?"

Leon looked at him. In this little dark parking lot he forced himself to face the question. There wasn't enough time to go over the reasons why he shouldn't tell you, but he quietly landed on the most important, "She doesn't need that on her plate."

Chris' face twisted. "That's cynical. Even for me."

Leon looked out onto the road. It was deprived of noise, save for a dog barking in the distance and a nearby AC unit. It felt stuffy in his jacket, like he was beneath a beaming light. He was sincere in his silence, even more in his words. "It's just the truth. I can't do that to her, not right now with everything going on. And…" The words got stuck and he pushed them out, "And I've always known no one should be subjected to… well, me."

He'd never put it into words. Sure, he mulled them over constantly and it had long been something he'd accepted. It was more bitter tasting than he'd anticipated. Leon dreaded looking over at Chris because he didn't want to see pity. Still, he did. He was stunned at the mutual understanding in his eyes.

This time, Chris stepped back as Leon slid into his car. Leon hesitated. Door opened, engine running, eyes out the front window.

Chris said, "You going to decide for her?" It was his turn to scan their surroundings. "It's true we don't really have the kind of job that would let our partners live a stress free life. I get that, the…" He grumbled as he searched for the words, "Urge to just shut yourself away. It's not wrong though, for us to want to be happy too. Maybe the both of you are choosing to suffer a little more when you could just be honest with yourselves."

Leon couldn't think about it any longer. He made it a point to study Chris before saying, "You don't look like the romantic type."

"I'm not."

"Well, thanks anyway. Maybe you should heed your own advice too." Leon reached for the door. Just as he closed it fully, he said, "She looks at you, too."

He drove off, mind a typhoon and body taut like a set crossbow. As much as Chris tried to come off nonchalant, he was someone who cared deeply about those around him. Leon knew it was mostly because he worried about you, but by extension he was a part of that too.

Gripping the steering wheel, he rested his forehead on it at the next red light. He wished Chris had just agreed with his caution, that people like them shouldn't get so involved with other people. Even if it's you. Even if, for the first time, he felt like he was really here. Leon didn't want to be selfish and didn't want to hurt you at the reality of the fate that exists for him in his day to day life. Where did that put him though? Walking away from you? He couldn't.

When he picked his head up, the light turned red once again. He stared up at it, the stoplight hanging there in the nearly black sky. He'd been called many things in this life, had been many things. There was the him he had to shed and the him he had to bury- the one he hoped would stay gone because it only meant he'd bear his heart for everyone to see. He was never really gone, was he?

The light turned green. No one else was on the road but he still checked before he made a U-turn.

Leon didn't have it in him to care what his mind was calmly laying out for him. Not when he had a bullet wound in his arm to add to the many other scars. Not when his heart was telling him to always return to you.

He drove. It didn't take him long at all to get back to your place.

Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was ringing in his ear.

"Hey," Your voice made his eyes closed and the knots in his chest fade. You sounded warm but a little confused.

"Hey," He took a breath, "I know I just left-"

"It's okay. Are you… is everything okay?"

"Yeah," His response was quick and confident. He forced himself to pause and collect himself. "Kind of. Really, I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Okay." You didn't sound weirded out. You didn't sound like you felt sorry for him. He smiled to himself.

"What are you doing?" He realized he was in your parking lot again and he thought maybe instead of being impulsive he should just figure out what would settle him in that moment. In this case, it came easy. Your voice.

"I was actually going to make a quick run for some coffee." He looked out the windshield, "And before you say anything, yeah I know it's kinda late but I was going to call a taxi."

"I get it," Leon gripped the phone a little tighter as he heard himself say, "I could take you."

You laughed and how was he supposed to be okay? "Leon, you already left. I'm not letting you-"

"I'm already here." When he looked up you were already outside, and he realized you'd probably already called the taxi. You were dressed in a dark coat, a beanie pulled on to likely combat the cold. He watched you pause at his words, and how your face immediately turned and found his car. He rushed out, "I didn't forget anything. To be honest, I kind of just didn't think about it and came back."

He didn't have to think about it. He'd come back for you.

"Are you a mind reader?" Your voice was quiet and he couldn't read your tone. "Knew I was out of coffee and came to save the day?"

"Something like that. What do you say? I could use some coffee, too."

You hung up in response, and he watched you approach the car.

He moved to get out but you waved him off as you opened the passenger door and slid in.

The two of you peered at each other through the darkness, the only lights from the console and the nearby streetlights.

"You sure you didn't forget anything?" Your voice was soft. He clenched his fist before relaxing it and reaching for the shift.

"I didn't," He shook his head.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he knew he couldn't forget if he tried.

Notes:

i honestly wish this could take place in the later 2000s because don't you think beautiful girls by sean kingston should come into play at some point? haha

i always look up when things were invented to make sure there's no inaccuracies. like earlier on when this fic first started, i definitely googled when powerade was invented (1987 💀 can you believe that? excuse me? how is that old? )

sooo... i'm really excited for the upcoming chapters. i feel like an evil villain sometimes, cackling at what's to come. we're not at the end, but every time i think about all of the stones left to step on, it's sad to know we are nearing that.

this story is so dear to me, and i'm incredibly grateful you've decided to go on this journey with me.

sorry to get sentimental. let's strap in for these next few 😎

- august

Chapter 36: we've come so far, look how we've grown (xxxvi)

Notes:

(do you think leon would be friends with steve harrington? lol sorry that question just came to mind today and decided to ask)

i told y'all to buckle in. i'm not playing around. have fun (:

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The coffee run was as quick as it sounded.

Leon accompanied you into the grocery store; it was empty like they usually are when it's close to closing time. You knew exactly where the coffee beans you preferred were located. Truthfully, you could've held out until morning but you also knew you hadn't been sleeping; coffee would be great company. As you picked up two from the shelf in front of you, you tried to subtly peer at Leon. He was studying the different brands in front of him, and your heart peeled open at the sight.

Over the months, Leon's reactions were so subtle you had to be watching for the flickers.

You were always watching.

He didn't turn but his eyes moved toward you; his head followed and you straightened, pointing at the brand you liked. "I think you should try it."

"I don't really make coffee at my place."

Gaping at him, "You only drink it at the office?"

"If it's available. I don't spend a lot of time at home to get the coffee started in the first place."

"Even if I don't have time I make time," You scoffed. Although you made light of it, you thought of Leon avoiding being home. Ever since earlier, when you'd discovered Leon was hurt, you'd been fixated on your worry. It could be added to your list of worries, sure, but being here with him and seeing how okay he was… it calmed you. "Maybe you can try it when we get back to mine. See if you like it."

"Okay."

You went to check out, and you shook your head when Leon pulled out his wallet. He tried to argue, "Think of this as we went to a cafe together-"

"It's not. It's like you're buying me several coffees."

"What's wrong with that?"

The seriousness in his face and voice made you stifle a laugh and when he paused, you paid the clerk. As you walked out, you said, "Thank you though. You know, I really enjoy it when we spend time together."

You didn't think anything of your words, not until you looked over your shoulder and saw his steps had paused. You wouldn't tell him that you missed him when he was gone- because it was a harder habit to break to be vulnerable with someone like that. You'd already cried in front of him too much, and that didn't even include today. So you'd siphoned out a little bit of the truth: it was getting harder and harder fighting the urge to be close to him.

Leon cleared his throat and said, "I enjoy it too."

"How's your arm?" He glanced at you as he held open the passenger door and you slid in. When he was in the driver's side, the look on his face made it clear he hadn't thought about it.

"It's fine."

"Have you gotten the chance to redress it?" His delayed silence was enough of an answer. Because your heart thundered at what you were about to say, you stared straight ahead. "Guess it's time to pay you back for taking care of my hand."

"I saw that it's healing pretty well," He said in response. Your heart settled, and you were glad he didn't get flustered like you had. He nodded down at your hand. The car still hadn't been turned on. "You're not even wearing a bandage anymore."

"It felt like it was getting in the way in my classes. And it was pretty gross too."

"Classes?"

"At Joan's. I'm still figuring out which one I like. I even tried out Muay Thai and nearly passed out… and threw up… at the same time."

He exhaled in amusement, his smile fading as he ran his fingers across the wheel. Leon never wore jewelry, and you guessed he didn't have tattoos. His hands were calloused and from feeling them before, they were usually warm. You traced their movements with your eyes, knowing he had something on his mind and if you asked- you'd feel like a hypocrite. You were always thinking, worrying, carrying so much and you hadn't really chosen to confide in him all that much either. The two of you tended to choose solitude even in others' company, didn't you?

Still. You hoped even in silence that your company eased him the way he did for you.

"It's hard work. You got this," He said, and his eyes shone in the car as he glanced at you.

"Do I?" slipped from your mouth. Your tone was humorous but the words sunk in and you chose not to look at him because of your stomach flipping at your doubts.

"Hey." He was calling you and you wondered if you could resist. You didn't even try as you turned to meet his gaze. "You do." Firm. Confident. Some wounded part of you wondered if he was lying and you casted that away because he wasn't.

The space within the car felt like it was shrinking as the words hung between you and you became aware of his closeness. He was slipping back into his thoughts again, the car hadn't started, and your heart rate was picking up.

Then he reached for the keys. "You ready, rockstar?"

"Yes." The word embarrassingly didn't hold any volume so you nodded. He wasn't even looking at you but he still knew you'd responded as he started pulling out of the parking lot.

You had to stop. Past the reality of his presence making everything okay, you were slipping into dangerous territory stuck in this space with him. You tried to keep looking out the window but only kept side-eyeing him. His hair looked rather long since the last time you'd seen him. His outfit was simple- a long sleeved gray shirt under a black bomber jacket and pants that fit him well. Even casually, he appeared put together.

Your eyes grazed the width of his shoulders, the sliver of neck you could see from the passing by street lights.

You need to stop. Now.

"Why do you call me rockstar?"

He glanced over at you and his eyes snagged on yours for a second. Shit. Then he turned back to the road and you relaxed. He couldn't look at you. Not now. If he did, the truth would be written so plainly on your face and you weren't sure if you could handle pretending it wasn't.

"Because you are one…?"

You shot him a mildly frustrated look and ignored his feigned innocence. "Only Claire calls me that. It's not a very common go-to nickname if you ask me."

The car came to a red light and he relaxed a little into the seat. The light turned green and the ride continued, glancing at you."Okay. You caught me. I call you that because of Claire. Well, indirectly. Before we met-" He was referring to the two of you, "I ran into Claire and she was in a rush to go somewhere. Usually, she is, so I didn't think much of it. Thought it was because of work, but she was rushing to meet you. I joked that you must be pretty amazing to have her running around all frantic and she declared, 'She's a fucking rockstar. Of course I am.' When I met you, I knew it was you. The rockstar."

You shouldn't have asked. You should've kept quiet instead.

Now, you were stunned into silence.

His story folded over you, boxing you into this small space with him and reaching into your chest to take hold of your heart. You were absolutely screwed-

"We're here."

You nearly sighed in relief, climbing out of the car leading him to your apartment.

When you walked in, you looked around and were surprised Claire was nowhere to be found. Looking down the hallway, you saw that the office- turned- guest room door was closed. You glanced back to see Leon closing the front door, so you walked down the hallway and checked your room. She wasn't there. She stayed with you every night and she wasn't in here tonight. You turned the doorknob of the guest room. It was locked.

She wasn't sleeping with you tonight. Why? That was odd. She hadn't mentioned anything, even when you'd told her Leon was taking you to get coffee- You glared at the closed door.

You moved back to the kitchen, double glancing at Leon who was slowly taking off his jacket. Hm. You set up the coffee and started it before joining him. He was just about to sit down before you said, "Come on. I'm cleaning it, remember?"

He looked up, mildly surprised. He opened his mouth to say something and you didn't really want to give him the opportunity to reject it, so you walked away to the bathroom.

You retrieved the first aid and opened it up on the counter, hearing his footsteps approaching.

He paused in the doorway. You raised your eyebrows as you stopped rummaging, noting his hesitation."What are you doing?"

"Nothing," He took a step inside. "It's just… Because of where it's located, I need to take this off. Is that okay?" He was gripping the edge of his shirt and your confusion cleared. A cacophony of emotions struck you then. Fondness for his consideration. Disbelief at his thoughtfulness. Nerves at the implication.

"It's okay. Don't worry." You offered a smile. Though the meaning he'd placed on it racked you with nerves, your attention shifted to his wound. It looked tricky having to pull off his shirt while avoiding disrupting one arm and you debated offering to help but he swiftly did it as soon as you considered it.

He stared at some point of the bathroom wall as he leaned back into the bathroom counter.

You stepped close, and he glanced at you before returning to that previous point. Your fingers gently removed the bandage. You didn't stare at him as you cleaned it, but you let yourself feel the gnawing at your chest as you imagined how he got this. It was a flesh wound, sure. When would it not be? When would it be so much worse?

Your fingers shook as you replaced the bandage and you couldn't raise your eyes. You tried to swallow. The realization hit you so heavy your breaths were tight in your chest. You'd gone through this same sick worry and fear whenever Carlos got deployed and you'd learned he would be engaging in combat. Now here you were again.

"LUNA," Leon grabbed your hand where it was hovering over the bandage and you looked at him. You searched his eyes as he placed your hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I'm right here. Okay? I'm okay."

His heart was steady and calm underneath your hand. His skin was hot. You realized the hand he was holding to his chest was the one that he'd cleaned several days ago, in this same bathroom. You supposed he might worry about you too, getting wrapped up in all of this to find your brother.

You breathed.

There was the slightest twitch at his lips- maybe relief? Your thoughts pushed out and then drew back in, a different intensity taking over as you focused on the fullness of his mouth. Stop.

You moved your gaze down his neck, his chest on display and covered by your and his hand. His stomach tensed when you scanned over it and all thoughts left you as you whispered, "Um." You gently tugged on your hand as you took a step back and Leon let go.

You cleared your throat. "I'll go get the coffee ready, okay?" When you didn't receive a response, the urge to look back won. He was facing the mirror now, hands gripping the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. There was a storm in his expression and when his gaze connected with yours through the mirror it only grew.

"Sounds… perfect." His voice was strangled and your lips parted before all of it faded away from his face. He turned from the mirror and let go of the sink, his expression schooled. You made sure not to look him over, having already failed more than once. "Thank you for," He motioned at his arm with his other hand.

You nodded and you took another step back before retreating. Barreling down the hallway, you winced as you thought of how obvious you were being about your attraction, about how you felt. You'd never had an issue with this before, not with previous people, so why were you losing your composure now?

In the middle of the kitchen, you cupped your forehead as you tried to talk yourself down. He was kind, and he continued time and time again to be there for you. Now was no time to muddle and confuse things.

Except…

Why did he look at you like that?

More than once, his gaze would become heavy and take on a substance that charged the space between you. He was like a damn magnet, and it was increasingly difficult to pull away.

You weren't an idiot. You knew he was attractive the first time you ever met him, and you knew what could be expected beneath his clothes with the field he's in and the training he likely undergoes but so what?

That was hardly ever enough for you to be flustered. Like many, it was always something else that ended up keeping you up at night about a person. With Leon, it was his consistent and fierce thoughtfulness. His sometimes awkward yet charming jokes. How observant he was, how he was intelligent and could also read a room. He was careful with people… but he was the most risky with himself.

Your heart jumped as your hand froze pouring the coffee.

If you could list all of that, you knew you were in deep.

As you finished pouring and pulled the creamer across the counter, you tensed.

He was here. Behind you.

You didn't turn and said, "I'll let you add your creamer and sugar." He joined you at the counter, leaning nearby and watching as you added your preferred amount before stirring. You stopped mid-stir, picking up the creamer and holding it out to him. He tilted his head, and you knew he was trying to get you to look at him. You held firm and he took his time grabbing it from you.

"Thank you, LUNA."

"No need to thank me."

"I want to."

"Fine." Real smooth. You watched as he prepared his coffee, making note of what he liked. When you realized what you were doing, you gathered your mug and walked out the kitchen. You folded up on the couch, silently yelling at Claire for pretending like she'd called in a night early. You knew damn well she was a night owl.

Leon joined you, taking up the space on the other side of the couch as he looked around before leaning forward and setting his mug on a coaster.

"What do you think?"

Over his shoulder, he saw that you were nodding at the mug, and said, "It's good. Different from the office."

"That's because the office one is cheap. Hate to say it. It's still good but they definitely don't splurge on us."

"Sounds about right." He leaned back and you watched him as he settled into the couch. He was a little tall for it, but he made it work as he scooted a little down and rested his head on the back. For someone who often looked tired, you'd never seen him get rest. Guess you could relate to that.

You picked up the remote and then asked, "Would you like to watch… a movie?"

He blinked rapidly as if he actually were dozing with his eyes open before peering at you. Looking like that… lounging on your couch, staring at you with that heavy gaze… "Sure."

"I have DVDs but we can also flip through the channels."

"What DVDs?" You looked over at the stacks beneath your TV, reading them off. You paused when you saw the slightest shift from him when you read Back to the Future. You circled back, standing and setting your coffee down before retrieving the DVD. You held it up. "Back to the Future then?"

He pulled his head up and you could already tell that the slightest spark of interest was purposefully hidden. "Whatever you want to watch, it's okay."

"Leon."

He looked off to the side, exhaling in amusement before he slowly forced out, "It was my favorite movie growing up."

Satisfied, you put it in the DVD player as you hid your smile. He's definitely mastered the stealth and the stoic, but you were getting the hang of reading his slight signals.

"What's your favorite now?" You asked as you settled back into the couch and pulled a blanket over you. Your heart jumped when, after having pulled your legs up, your knee skimmed his thigh. You tried to shift away. You were really putting yourself through this…

"I don't really watch much anymore."

You thought about that, sipping at your coffee before asking, "Well, then, what's the last movie you watched?"

"The Shawshank Redemption."

You hummed in pleasant surprise. "That's a really good movie."

"It is," He went quiet. Then, "I don't watch a lot of movies, but I thought to myself, This has to be one of the best fucking movies that has been made." When he looked over at you, he froze at the sight of you biting back a laugh. "What, am I wrong?"

"No. No, you're not. I just didn't expect so much passion. I think there's probably plenty of people that agree with that."

"What's yours?"

You turned to the screen, knowing it was about to start. When Leon bumped his leg into yours to get you to answer, you couldn't ignore him. "I don't have just one."

"Well tell me about them."

"The movie is starting."

"It's okay." His attention was entirely on you. It was so warm on that couch, more comfortable than it ever has been. His head was leaning back again and he was still watching you with those heavy and stormy eyes. You did what he asked. You worried you'd happily do anything he asked- you continued to tell him and he listened.

"I trust your taste," He said after a few moments of silence, where the two of you had turned your attention to the tv. Your knee was fully resting pressed to the side of his thigh; surprisingly you hadn't noticed.

"You could very well not like them."

"You like Back to the Future and The Shawshank Redemption. I know I'll like them."

"Maybe you put too much faith in me."

"I don't." He was serious again. You knew if you looked at him you would be in danger of impulsiveness. So you didn't look at him. You became aware then of your knee pressed into his thigh.

For a part of the movie, your heart was racing and your skin was searing. With the wave of a hand, you knew you'd be touching him. Instead you blankly watched the screen. When you finally gave in- just a little- you glanced and saw that he was wholly engrossed in the screen. The colors and the light lit up his face and his eyes were soft with interest.

Your heart softened.

Deep.

You didn't mind.

You watched the movie, laughing at silly parts and loving Marty's bravery. In the warmth and security of the couch, you didn't even realize your head had begun nodding. You tried blinking it away but eventually it lowered and didn't raise.

A warm and soft yet firm surface. Your head briefly floating before sinking into a soft and plush pillow. The sudden silence was pulling you from your sleep. Then you felt a shift near you and your eyes shot open. Blinking away your confusion, you adjusted from where you were leaning into the couch and the pillow your head had been resting on fell.

Your gaze connected with Leon's, who was in the middle of pulling on his bomber jacket and paused. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." You straightened, trying to clear the drowsy fog as you shifted on the couch. "You're leaving?"

Leon finished pulling on his jacket and came closer to pick up his keys from the coffee table. He paused, as if he didn't want to come close, before he continued and leaned over. "I better go."

Before you considered or had time to be embarrassed, your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He was avoiding looking at you, and now he was staring at you only a few breaths away. "You should stay." He searched your face and the careening of your heart made it hard for you to breathe as you pushed out. "It's late."

He didn't move but he didn't look inclined to agree so you added, "You can take the couch."

The credits were rolling on the screen. The room was darker than before. He was going to say no but the thought of him going out late, the thought of him being gone was suddenly unbearable.

"LUNA…" You internally winced as you let go of his wrist. "Are you sure?"

This time it was your turn to read him. He had straightened, and he was half turned toward the door. If it were someone else, it would read like they were dying to get away. Maybe he still was, but from his tone you had initially misread as pity, the answer was suddenly clear.

"Yes. You're not an inconvenience and never have been."

His eyebrows drew together at your words. He didn't move.

"I'll get you some blankets and pillows."

When you returned, he was at your shelf in the corner again, studying it. His jacket was laid across the lounge chair. You set up the blanket for him, fluffing the pillow and lying it down before picking it up and fluffing it again. After you were finished, you turned to see him watching you. You grabbed the mugs and took them to the kitchen.

He'd stayed.

A past you- a near recent past you at that- would've guessed it was because he felt bad for you. Putting it altogether, you knew that wasn't why. He wanted to stay, and he wanted to be near you, too.

With the sound of the water running, you rinsed out the cup and then looked up. Water still running, you knew he was behind you. Your heart rose, then fell.

You shouldn't turn around. You knew you shouldn't. You shut the water off and turned around, leaning back into the sink. "You don't have to help with the dishes this time. There's only two."

Your smile faded seeing he hadn't registered your joke. Your body froze up in front of that storm in his eyes. "I know. That's not why I'm here."

It was quiet. The eye of the storm. You whispered, "Why are you here then?"

He took a step into the kitchen, allowing you the chance of a break as he broke eye contact and drank in the small room. When they landed on you again, they were a lot more steady. "In this kitchen or here with you?"

It was loud. You were getting swept up. You weren't putting much thought into your words anymore. "Leon," You warned, knowing he was being cheeky, "You tell me."

"The answer's relatively the same for both." He didn't move closer. He didn't have to. It was like he had invaded the room and completely overcome it with his presence. It was like his hands were on you- "I thought of asking for a redo but I don't want to forget or erase anything. May I take you out? On a date?"

You stared at him.

He stared back. You blinked and he lost some of his confidence. You were screaming in your head and for an agonizing moment all you could do was look at him as his face hardened even further before you said, "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. And don't ask me if I'm sure because I'll be furious with you ruined it."

"Then I'm glad I didn't go with my original plan."

"Which was?"

"I was going to call it a 'Redate'. Redo and date combined."

You actually winced and then you were moving closer. You pushed at his to get him to leave, and he didn't move, admonishing you with your name as he grabbed your hands and decided, maybe for your ego, to take a step back. "That bad?"

"Atrocious."

"I guess I deserve that. You know," You tried your best to stand there and not let him see how much he was affecting you with his hands gripping yours. "Kept you waiting for this long. Unforgivable."

He whispered the last word and it jolted you, knowing it all too well.

Instead of teasing, you loosened up the hold a little bit. All of your precaution, your distance you threw at him, and your coldness, it had never gotten through. He was still here. You confessed, "It was not all you. I kept you waiting too."

Leon moved to let go over your hands there, in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. Your breathing came to a standstill as he picked up your healing hand and pressed his lips to your palm. Holding your hand to his face, his eyes flashed at you as he uttered, "It's okay. I'm a patient man."

He let go.

Leon moved to the living room first and you were glad.

You needed that space between you. You needed it even though he was still crowding everywhere. Imprinted..

Taking a minute to compose yourself, the fog you needed to clear from your brain was a lot headier and emotionally charged than the one you'd cleared when waking up.

"Do you need anything else?" You asked his back, hoping he wouldn't turn around even though there was a couch between you.

"Does tomorrow work?"

"Huh?"

"For our date. I guess," He squinted at the wall clock, "Today, if we're being technical. I'll pick you up."

"It's so soon." You said, dumbfounded. Why are you acting like a kid again? Some teen getting asked out for the first time. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Great," He turned around, arm resting on the back of the couch so he could see you, "We both better get some rest then."

"Guess so."

He tilted his head. Waiting for you.

Stop staring at him like a creep, finally hit you and your sense came back as you nodded. You ignored how even beneath his long sleeve his biceps practically protruded, and you hoped he didn't remember how embarrassing you were acting. You need to get back to yourself by tomorrow. By the date.

Just as you hit the hallway he called your name and sang, "Goodnight."

That charming asshole.

You shut yourself up into the darkness of the room. It was quiet, less crowded with your thoughts and his presence. You focused on getting ready for bed, all the while glaring at yourself in the mirror as you realized you'd completely been thrown off and as a result, had acted like a puppy love preteen.

Your glare relaxed as you noticed how bright your eyes looked, and how your heart was still pumping fast in your chest. You brushed your teeth, thinking of him standing there and being entirely frustrating and good at this.

You should've hated that. You should've never let this unravel the way it did.

Should you have?

After rinsing your mouth and spitting it out, you looked at yourself again. Saw the change. Felt it in the way your chest wasn't so wound up like it once was, making you feel like you wouldn't live long after the disappearance of Carlos. Seeing life seeping back into you.

You couldn't hate it if you tried. That's what scared you.

You settled into your bed, dreading the likelihood of you being kept up with your thoughts about him. Instead, your body relaxed and your eyes grew heavy. You dozed off. You dreamt of him.

His eyes, his hands. For the first time in a long time, you didn't have a nightmare.

It was dark in his room. He had opted to turn off the television hours ago.

He couldn't sleep, and he laid with his arm under his head, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the morning to come. It was right before sunrise when his home phone rang in the other room.

Picking it up, he listened to the silence and knew.

"Jill. What's going on? Where are you?"

"That's not why I'm calling."

He scoffed, knowing he shouldn't argue but he did anyway. "You're going to have to do better than that. You should know that by now."

"I know you very well. And you know me too so you need to trust me-"

"You've been M.I.A for weeks. I covered for you. I still am. So you need to-"

"I need you to do something for me. Please." She was always running. Fighting. So was he, but he waited for the day they could do it side by side again. He just wondered if she'd ever grant him that.

"What is it?"

He listened to her voice, finding solace in its confirmation of her being okay.

"Can you do that for me?" She asked and he truly wanted to laugh.

"Can I get our team assigned to whatever foul shit you've dug up? Of course I can." He said even though he never really knew it for sure. He'd do whatever it took. "An abandoned warehouse district in Argentina. You know our bosses, Jill. I'm going to need a little more than folktales-"

"I've mailed you a package. It should be arriving soon."

"You want me to wait?" He was unhappy and she knew it.

"It'll be there. And then we'll put this to bed. Together."

"I better know what 'this' is soon."

"You will."

"You take care of yourself, you hear me?"

"I know, I know. You too, Chris."

Notes:

i've really messed y'all up because your comments are all pleas for them to have happiness OR that you have a bad feeling and something's coming. anyways, i know what this one is going to do so...

🏃 ️💨

- august

Chapter 37: another version of me (xxxvii)

Notes:

recap of recent events

while leon is away on a mission, agent archer is unfortunately lost while the mc is on call with him . distraught, the mc is given some time away from work. leon comes back, injured but otherwise okay, and hears what happens. he goes straight to her and they spend the day together along with claire and chris. he leaves, but comes back later that night after coming to terms with his own feelings. they spend more time together and leon asks the mc on a date, who accepts (in his words, a redate).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Despite his body being heavy, and the dull pain in his arm, his chest was light like a balloon whose string had been cut.

Leon wasn't particularly sentimental. As he went about his day, however, a near uncomfortable wave of warmth washed through him. He also wasn't a daydreamer, but as he poured all of his energy into his current workout, the warmth would make him pause as he pictured you tonight. It steadily built inside him. It was uncomfortable, unfamiliar, unknown. He wondered if this was worth it; his next thought was always the same.

It was.

You were.

Then he poured his focus into his legs.

He'd started to forget what it was like to have a motivator, to push himself a little harder. It had all become easy.

Chest heaving, he slowed before coming to a stop. He wondered if you were already awake, if you'd seen his note. Was a note or a text message more romantic? As he started the shower, the same rotation began again.

His mind was the record player spinning the same collection. Every groove was dedicated to you.

Ducking his head under the water, the first song was all these months getting to know you. His initial caution. His curiosity. The slow morph into fondness and this unbearable warmth building in him. There's pieces of your life in your control and then there's inevitabilities that barrel into one's very DNA. He saw you soaked in the rain, your mind always searching. Looking for your brother.

As he washed his hair, the song changed to that first dinner. Instead of shying away from the mess that it was, he let it soak into him like the burning of his workout or the stream of the water hitting him. The two of you had battled that night, poised for a war on opposite sides of the table. He'd let his reason slip away from him as you'd picked him apart with your sharpness. He was a prop and a spectacle, and it had undone him. To be summed up in so many words had awakened the desire to be something else. To be someone you didn't have to look away from in disappointment.

To be someone you'd keep seeing.

As he washed his body, he recalled how his wariness of you had slowly fell away like each lyric of a song weaving together. These past years, he'd grown comfortable with being pulled by strings. In every other aspect of his life he wasn't in control- not really. Relinquishing that to you bit by bit was easier than he'd ever imagined. It'd started as crumbs. The way you smiled at him, like it was a tether he could always reach out and hold. A newly formed string he'd never found on his own.

You frowned sometimes without even knowing it, and when someone said something you didn't like it was written all over your face.

His eyelids lowered thinking of your hands brushing his chest. Your eyebrows would pull together whenever he watched you. Maybe you suspected how he felt, but he knew he'd have to say it eventually.

Once he was out of the shower, he forced his incessant thoughts about you to a standstill for a moment as he reviewed his plans for the date. Brushing his teeth in the mirror, he let himself review it over and over until he was satisfied. Blinking at himself, he saw his wet hair was pushed completely up and off his forehead.

His chest grew heavy with that warmth as he rinsed his mouth and retreated into his bedroom. In the closet, he frowned at the disco shirt and pointedly turned away from it as he eyed his shirts.

In his note, he'd told you to dress warm and he knew he would do the same, but everything he looked at didn't seem right. Pulling out one of his endless black shirts, he sighed before letting it fall into place and heading into his bedroom.

The phone rang longer than he wanted, debating if he was being fussy before he heard that signature pick up sound.

"Hunnigan," He greeted. Would Hunnigan think he's ridiculous? He called her because, well, he was sure she was his only friend who would always be honest with him. He cleared his throat. "I need some advice."

"Please tell me it's nothing I have to clean up."

"No," Biting the bullet, he sighed, "I have a date… and… I don't know what to wear."

Silence.

It was a mistake. Come on, he could pick an outfit. He'd done so every day of his life! Why had he been so quick to go running for advice? It's not that big of a deal.

Except it was.

You were.

His past self was foolish, not really understanding the gravity of the situation when he'd gotten the honor to take you out to dinner that first time. Since then, he had been waiting and hoping he'd get another chance. It had to be perfect.

"I don't mean to bother you-"

"Where are you taking her?"

He told her, hiding the relief.

"Okay. Is this a 'Raid the Closet' level panic or an 'Impromptu Shopping Trip' level panic?"

He didn't know. His silence must've not satisfied her because she sighed after a second.

"You're not a lost cause... yet," She mumbled and he frowned before her voice picked up, "Okay. You have some time right?"

He checked the time and confirmed. He had several hours until he was to pick you up. He'd chosen this for two reasons: to give you both time to do whatever you needed to, and to also give him time to prepare like this. Life always threw wrenches in his plan so he had to be on guard.

Hunnigan told him to meet her at the mall about fifteen minutes away from his place. As he pulled on his shoes, he wondered if maybe he was going a little overboard but shut down that thought. He wanted her advice, and he was willing to work for it.

Leon hoped this was a sign that everything would go right.

He needed it to, because all he wanted was for you to be happy.

After trying on the sixth shirt, and having to deal with Hunnigan's scrutinizing stare, he'd decided he'd have to plan clothes in advance from here on out. A lack of opinion was unacceptable in her eyes, so after some coaxing he'd started giving his own feedback. That shirt was too baggy. This one made him look like his dad, and he wasn't a fan of that. Was he trying to look good or like a douchebag?

Too sophisticated. Too casual.

Too out of character.

"If you're struggling to pick on your own, let's adjust our mindset a little bit."

Having been frowning at himself in the mirror, he raised an eyebrow at Hunnigan in their reflections. She was leaning back on the little bench, hair in disarray as if she were the one having to go through outfit changes like it was a race.

"Meaning?"

"What do you think would be something she'd like?"

That would've stumped him. Except he heard your voice. He saw you on his bed. You should think about wearing more blue… Or gray. Even green.

He stared into his eyes. He'd never given them much thought. He'd never really liked what he saw in them, anyways. He told Hunnigan, "Maybe something blue. Or gray."

"Is that something you'd like too?"

"Yeah," He nodded before heading back to the dressing room. "I would."

"Sounds good. I think…" Hunnigan hummed, "I think I might have an idea. Something you'd be comfortable in and it would still look nice."

He stuck his hand out from behind the curtain and gave her a thumbs up.

As they struck a semi-slow pace, he welcomed it. He didn't complain when Hunnigan's steps halted, or when she tilted her head into a store he assumed she wanted to check out. His thoughts swarmed him, as his mind tumbled toward tonight. Whenever he glanced down at the bags in his hands, he also wondered how he could express his thanks to Hunnigan.

He wasn't used to reaching out to a friend or to asking for advice. Neither was he used to giving himself to someone, to saying things and watching unabashedly to see how you would respond. To replaying conversations and moments and what-ifs over and over.

As Hunnigan inspected a jewelry rack in the second department store, Leon glanced for the third time outside the windows leaving back into the mall. He stepped closer to Hunnigan and as she ran her hands over a bracelet he said, "Don't look. We're being followed."

Her eyes trailed up but she did as he said.

"Don't be alarmed. We'll be okay. I know them. They'll know I've noticed them, by now."

She slowly spun the jewelry rack. Her voice was measured, as always. "Who are they?"

It's Taylor's men. They're here for him. They want to pull him away, tug on his puppet strings. They want to use him.

Just like his first dinner with you.

Life always had its perfect timing with him, hadn't it? He shouldn't be this frustrated. The warmth in him replaced itself with a rigid ice. Blinking, he glanced over at Hunnigan and followed her eyes down to his clenched fist around the bag handles. He loosened his grip, "It'll be an assignment. Not DSO."

She just peered at him through her glasses in that usual unnerving way. She wouldn't ask who they were, she wouldn't pry. "I'm assuming they've done this before."

The laugh was pulled out of him. "Many times. Including our first dinner together."

He squeezed his eyes closed. He was undone. He was an undone, far gone man. And he had to assume the role he'd been shaped into.

He'd do it for you. He'd wrap this up, and he'd go to you.

There would be nothing to ruin this.

"I have an idea."

Leon's swirling thoughts halted. He breathed out as he stared at her in question.

"But first. Pick." When he noticed her motioning toward the jewelry, she continued, "You should get LUNA a gift."

He studied the bracelets and earrings. They were beautiful and bright. You'd undoubtedly look stunning.

When he shifted, she asked, "Well?"

"I actually have something in mind already."

"What is it?"

"I'll show you."

She didn't glance but he explained, "They won't approach us with you here. We can continue until we're finished."

"Alright then. Lead the way."

He led her out the doors, noting the two men. One on the bench reading the paper, another standing at the window of the store across from the one they'd just left. They kept walking, and with every step the ice faded in his veins. It was going to work out. He wouldn't accept anything else. You deserved a good night. A great one.

"How…" He cleared his throat, searching for the words, "How can I thank you?"

Hunnigan patted his arm and shook her head. "Just make sure you two have an amazing night. You two deserve it. That's how you can repay me." He nodded along and bit back a smile at the sentiment, noticing her gaze snagging on the little food stand they were nearing. "And a pretzel. That too."

He did smile this time as he pulled out his wallet and approached the stand.

When she didn't say anything, he looked at her and saw her carefully neutral expression. He braced himself.

She finally turned to him. "A book?"

His mind was already set, reaching out and picking up the small book that read Lessons of Martial Arts. Showing her the cover, he said, "For her."

She rubbed at her neck as she regarded the book then him.

There would be the chance to buy her jewelry. He hoped.

Right now? He knew how much you had going on. He knew what you hoped for, what you wanted. Maybe you wouldn't like his gift. But he wanted you to know he cared just as much about your goals as you did.

"Okay. You know her better than I do, at least with this."

The words jostled him and he watched her head for the cashier. "Come on. After this, we're going to play out my plan."

"You have to tell me what it is."

"I can't promise you'll like it."

"Aren't I supposed to be the reckless one?"

"Bad influences, I tell ya," She called over her shoulder.

Leon climbed into the small car, taking but a moment to soak in the quiet and the lack of food court scents. He paused as he breathed, turning the keys in the ignition and willing himself to relax his shoulders. If there were the slightest doubt in his mind that Hunnigan would be at risk, he wouldn't have agreed to this movie plot plan.

He thought of her outside the biggest department store in the building, a twinkle in her eye that he'd never noticed. He realized that friendships often meant learning to read those things in people. That twinkle was telling him Trust me. Hunnigan had always been someone he could trust.

So here he was.

It was at the last stoplight near his apartment when his phone went off.

He barely let it ring.

"Hunnigan?"

"Mission success. You should've seen the look on their face when they came up to your car and found me in the driver's seat," Her cackle made him freeze.

"Are you actually enjoying this?"

"I loved spy movies growing up."

He scoffed. "Hunnigan, you are…"

"Legendary. I know. You sure your pride could handle my precious Honda Civic for your date?"

Leon parked the car where he knew Taylor wouldn't see him leaving the apartment. He could hardly believe he was sneaking around like a teenager. The warmth hadn't left him at all since he left the mall.

"Trust me. My pride is the least of my concerns."

She went quiet. His urge to thank her came back tenfold but he held his tongue. One thing he was well-versed in? Knowing when you come on too strong.

Hunnigan said, "That first dinner might be hanging over the both of you, this pressure to make sure everything goes right. Even when things go wrong, they are still precious mementos. Don't think too much. The two of you will have fun."

He shut the car off and leaned his head back onto the seat. Beneath the warmth, woven into his thoughts was a hidden worry. A worry that all of this effort would be in vain if he just ended up fucking up again.

Hunnigan was a friend he must never forget to cherish.

"Thanks," He whispered.

"You got it."

There were still a couple hours left. Still, he got dressed. He checked the directions to the place. He eyed his present to you that rested on the dining room table. When it was time, he left his apartment, climbed into Hunnigan's Honda Civic, and drove over to yours.

Outside your front door, he picked at the invisible lint on his jacket and noted that strange warmth beneath his skin. His hair was pushed back out of his face; though his outfit was new and his hairstyle was a bit different, he still was comfortable thanks to Hunnigan's help. He gripped his phone in his pocket, thinking maybe he should call and let you know he was early. He didn't do that.

Leon was here. He was here even a way he hadn't been that first time.

Moments later, he knocked on your door.

When you opened the door and he looked at you, he wasn't sure how he'd managed all these hours to stay away. Here you were.

Notes:

Hi my lovely friends! Thank you to everyone who has been enjoying the story, who has left comments, and who have kept coming back to check up on the story. I know I was gone for a long and concerning amount of time, thank you for checking on me. I'm okay and doing well!

Lots of updates in my life, was appreciating and cherishing a number of things and spending time with loved ones. I know it may be worrisome when authors go away for a while, but I have the next four chapters written and I even started drafting the ending for the first time! So I have every intention to finish. The goal is to have it finished soon enough! With my outlining, we're looking at less than twenty chapters left!

With that being said, I won't write an entire essay here since the next few chapters will be coming so I'll just split up my thoughts haha. For now, I just wanted to say Leon going from puppet strings to a balloon string cut loose (,:

The last thing I want to share is since the beginning, there's been a song special to me and I consider Leon's song. The chapter title is inspired by it.

Leon's song - end of beginning by djo

I missed you all. Ready for the date? Any predictions?

- august

Chapter 38: if you're standing with me (xxxviii)

Notes:

Thank you to every single person who's left me kudos. At the time I'm writing this, it has 1,068 kudos. I'm so honored and thrilled. Thank you to yourfavdarling who pointed this out to me as well!

This is a huge accomplishment and I'm grateful to every single person who has left kudos, who has read even a sentence of this fic. I'm thankful for all of the comments, love, and support. I still remember when I pulled open my notes tab and just wrote something like "after job interview, sitting in the rain and feels like she failed. leon wordlessly gives her an umbrella" and it came to life from there. To know how much you enjoy it means the world to me.

Thank you.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sometimes, on rare occasions, that moment right before you were fully conscious? You would time travel. Deep into the past, into your childhood.

In that block of time between asleep and awake, when the bed was too comfortable and the warmth beneath your comforter was just right, you could hear Carlos watching ESPN on the living room TV. He would change it to cartoons or Disney Channel for you once he heard you get up, so sometimes you would lie there a little longer just so he'd get more time for himself. If you breathed in? You could smell your grandma cooking breakfast. These blocks of time were rare. Rare like treasure. A treasure that was booby-trapped.

You woke up on the tail end of food being fried, the ache in your chest careening. Those memories were the purest part of your past, the moment in your life that you could confidently say you and Carlos were loved, happy.

It was a treasure you had perfect practice in keeping buried, even before he went missing.

Your sleepy reflections were doused then with a bitter cold reality. Grandma, long gone. Carlos, long lost. You? Alone in your tomb of a room.

At least that's how your time traveling usually ended. This morning, the scent of freshly boiling coffee and last night's memory left no room for loneliness to settle into your chest.

Leon.

Pulling the comforter off, you moved to sit at the edge of your bed. You tilted your head as you stared at your closed bedroom door.

Your dreams. Your nightmares. Waking up alone. Even with the door between you and Leon, you didn't feel that way anymore- you didn't feel alone.

Special days tended to unravel into snapshots, such vivid captures of moments that you'd be able to recall years from now.

Although there was the memory of your first dinner, it didn't taint the image of tonight.

You knew it was a snapshot day. You felt it in your bones.

The first snapshot was enough proof of that: a small note laid on the kitchen counter next to a freshly rinsed mug.

Your taste in coffee has broadened my horizons. I'll pick you up by 7:30. Dress warm. I look forward to seeing you.

Leon

The next snapshot was you sipping your coffee, staring at his note that you pinned to your fridge. Your fingertips traced his neat handwriting as you imagined him leaning over the counter, writing with a serious brow. You didn't realize you were smiling until Claire's voice sounded from the doorway.

"Loverboy gone already?"

"I don't know if I'd classify him as that, but yes."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "Ah, the walk of shame."

"You're ridiculous," You rolled your eyes as you walked past her.

"I'm entitled to a little gossip when all my energy is going into healing up." She followed behind, and you paused at the sight of the folded blanket and pillow resting on the couch. You wondered if they smelled like him. You wondered if his mind was racing like yours.

You fluffed up the pillow and held it to your chest before setting it down again. The memory of his leg pressed into yours, his expression as he watched the movie. You blinked and realized you'd picked up the pillow again.

When you noticed Claire watching you, you bit your tongue. You couldn't say the same for her. She waved her hand. "Take your nervous energy elsewhere, please. I'm going to watch the news."

You picked at the pillow as you sunk into the couch, not listening to the news at all. Last night had been… a dream. It was like a scene from the romance movies you'd sometimes watch growing up. Will they? Won't they? The slightest of touches. Leon was a complicated man- you were complicated too- yet the chaos of it all quieted when you could feel him close to you.

Did you really deserve this? Did you deserve to have a night with him, one where all of your fears and worries got quiet?

"Hey," You turned your head and Claire was studying you. "I was joking, but I see you actually are pretty nervous. What's going on?"

"I have a date with Leon. Tonight."

She blinked. "So…?"

"I don't know if I…" Deserve this. Deserve him. How do you confess something so… vulnerable? How do you voice your insecurity? It was trapped inside you and there was no way you could let it out. Not only would Claire outright reject it, you knew it was all on you to make peace with your guilt.

You shook those stifling realizations off."I'm just a llittle nervous. It's been a while since I've… dated."

"It's about time you two stopped chickening out and faced your feelings-" When she saw your look, she re-routed, "It's normal to be nervous. Especially when you really like them. The two of you have already spent so much time together. Don't overthink it."

"Asking me not to think too much is easier said than done," You sipped your coffee before setting it down. "I have a lot of time until I have to get ready. I think I'm going to go to Joan's. Just to keep myself busy."

"Good idea! And when you get back," Her eyes darkened, "Time to make sure Leon's jaw drops to the floor."

"Claire, shut up," You sighed.

"What?!"

Your next snapshot was as soon as you sat down on the bus. Since Claire couldn't bully Chris into being your chauffeur to Joan's (he'd been swamped the last few days), you often made use of public transportation whenever you could. Joan's wasn't that far so the bus was suitable.

Dress warm… you had Leon's note memorized with how eager you'd been to drink in his words. You brainstormed what to wear, all the while wondering where he was taking you. The kind of excitement you held now was different than that first time. That first time was curiosity, intrigue. This time was bated breath, heading for an inevitable stop.

You recalled Leon leaning on your bathroom counter. His muscles taut and his face uncharacteristically open.

You weren't clueless. You were just in denial.

Leon looked at you sometimes like an astronomer admires at the sky.

If you stared back long enough, you knew there was no going back. So you never could, at least not yet.

Your heart was already beating fast; you imagined on a day like today there weren't many ways you would be able to avoid the glaring truth. It was written all over your face, too. All he'd have to do is snap his fingers, or look at you a little too long, or flash that slight smile.

Straightening in the bus seat, you cleared your throat, noticing you'd gotten a little hot.

As you pulled off your jacket, your gaze trailed to the window and something snagged your attention in the reflection. You doubled back with your eyes, slowing your movements as you pulled off the last sleeve. You paused- someone was staring at you from behind you. You turned your head to the seat behind and diagonal from you. The person's head jerked downward.

Your heart picked up at a different pace, a startled horse's pace as you openly stared at the hooded figure. You couldn't see their face, their head was bowed so low beneath their cap. They were dressed in all black and their fists were clenched in their lap.

It reminded you of the person watching you outside of Joan's.

The bus slowed as it announced it was coming to the next stop and you jumped as the person rushed to their feet and out the doors.

"Hey!" You shouted, and your next snapshot was you standing at the edge of the exit doors, watching the person rush off. They wouldn't turn around, but their back was stiff and you knew it was the same person. You knew they were on this bus because of you.

The bus driver yelled at you to either get off or sit down, then, shattering the lack of balance holding your nerves in place as you retreated to your seat. You settled down, hand going to your beating heart as you focused on evening your breaths.

When the bus began moving, your gaze went back toward the direction the person had went off and saw the figure had returned. Their hood was low over their cap; despite this, it looked like they had a face mask on, standing at the bus stop. You craned your neck and saw they stepped out behind the bus into the road, still watching it. Watching you.

Even when the bus turned the corner and moved further away, it took all of your control to face forward and focus on your breathing. Your breaths were shallow and you were sweating, squeezing your eyes closed as you tried to settle.

You got off the bus on a further stop from your actual one, then got on a returning route.

It wasn't long before you rushed inside the appointment, not after having scanned your surroundings and running all the way there. With a heaving chest, you locked the door and pressed your back into it, letting your bag fall to your feet.

"LUNA?"

Claire peeked out from the guest bedroom, face shifting in worry.

Describing what happened, you found steadiness in leaning on the front door as you told her how you were confident it was the same person. The same person watching you before, likely the same person that had hurt her. With an aching throat and tight eyes you whispered, "What if they come here? What if they hurt you again?"

You blinked and your vision cleared as the tears fell- to see Claire in front of you, determined look on her face. "We're not going to let whoever this fucker is break us down- mentally or otherwise. We're not blindsided anymore. Nothing is going to happen to me or to you. Got it?"

You weren't hearing her though. Hugging your arms, you said, "I should cancel tonight. What am I doing? I need to figure out what I need to do, who this is." You realized she hadn't said anything. When you finally looked up, you saw she was calm now. You focused on matching her breaths.

"I'll respect whatever choice you make. Leon will understand too." There was a but at the end there. Your panic had subsided and you could focus again.

"You don't think I should? Even after what happened?"

"You're not wrong to be scared. But this is what they want. They want you to isolate yourself. They want you to be afraid. They've already taken from you, and I don't want them to continue to do that. Besides, you can be safe with Leon. You can be okay."

"What about you? I can't leave you alone. We know about as much as we did when we started all of this. And Jill-"

"-hasn't reached out yet," Claire finished for you. With your first deep breath in a while, Claire reached out with her uninjured hand and held one of yours. "We can wait. We can also keep moving. Jill is going to get back to us, and we're going to figure all of this out. For now, give yourself a little room to just… be happy. You do deserve that, you know." You squeezed her hand, unable to speak in fear of crying for a different reason this time. "And you don't have to worry about me. I'll hold down the fort. Chris also gave me a present that'll put anyone six feet under if they try and fuck with me."

"Claire," You sighed.

"It won't come to that. I promise," She winked and squeezed your hand once more before saying, "Now go get ready. I know it's early, but we all know we get early hours in advance for first dates."

Despite the rollercoaster of the past hour, you retreated to your room with an ease to your chest.

Claire was a snapshot all on her own.

When you got ready, you picked a CD from your childhood. The nostalgia crept in as you sang along and applied your makeup, but you welcomed it. Even if most of it would stay buried, you weren't against a little bit of the past finding its way out. You even pictured Carlos leaning in the door frame and teasing you about tonight, laughing at the thought of him interacting with Leon.

"How do I look?"

"Like a damn rockstar. A beautiful one," Claire thrusted a marker toward you, "Sign my boob!"

She laughed as you gave her a look before you had to suppress a smile. You accepted the marker anyway as you crouched and started drawing on her cast.

"What am I going to do when this thing gets taken off?"

You glanced up at Claire before continuing with your doodle. "What do you mean?"

"Your art can't go to waste! I cherish every little thing you've added. Especially this weird looking horse-"

"You asked for a horse! I told you I can't draw one!"

"You should've convinced me more."

"Please." You capped the pen and stood back, admiring the little penguin you'd drawn with satisfaction. "If it's that important, I'll just recreate them for you on a piece of paper."

"Good. Because I imagine it'll be gross to keep this as a memento."

"Probably."

Snapshots left different depths of impressions. The ones thus far were lighter in depth, little flutters in the mind. With the evening came the deeper impressions, the kind to wrap around you and pull you down whenever you were reminded.

You and Claire were watching music videos when there was a knock at the door. Eyes wide, you checked the wall clock and saw that he was nearly an hour early. Claire laughed at the look on your face and you were too shocked to get mad.

"Looks like Loverboy is more of a romantic than we thought."

"Stop," You hissed. "I'm not ready."

"You've been ready for the past hour."

"You know what I mean," Your fingernails went to your mouth before you forcefully pulled your hand to your side. You still hadn't moved from the couch. "How do I look?"

"You look perfect. Now go answer the door."

"Wait! You answer it. I can't make it seem like I'm too eager-"

You were too in your head to see her annoyance. "This isn't high school. You are eager. And so is he. I mean, this early?"

Ignoring her, you were finally up on your feet as you rubbed your sweaty palms on your long skirt. Your bag and coat were nearby, but you were starting to doubt all of your decisions. Today had gone so fast, and you had so much going on. Was it really okay to leave Claire like this? Was it okay to just go out and let yourself go? What about Leon, what if he was stressed? Was his arm okay to be even going out on a date?

With sweaty hands, you grabbed the door and wondered what you'd say if you had all these doubts. It wasn't too late. Maybe you could reschedule-

You pulled the door open and everything slowed. It was the timer before the camera went off. It was the kind of snapshot that could never be re-captured.

Everything you were worried about, stressed about, that scared you today- lost its edge at the sight of Leon on the other side of the door.

"Hi," His voice was soft and although you heard him, you were still lingering in the joy of being near him again. That, and the breathlessness that comes with really looking at someone.

Cleaning up nice was an understatement for him.

His hair, usually hanging in his face, was brushed away from his forehead. He wasn't dressed up formally- he always looked uncomfortable when he did- but still managed to look good in neutral and calm colors. Paired with a dark blue jacket, he was wearing a long sleeved white shirt and tan pants.

You were taken aback. Still, you said, "Hi, Leon," and invited him inside. You continued to study him as you gathered your things, half listening to Claire mute the television and greet him. When you turned to her, still trying to collect yourself over the roaring of your heart, you forgot it all for a moment as you saw the mischief lighting up her eyes.

Shooting her a warning look, she ignored you as she cooed, "Look at the two of you."

"We're leaving," you deadpanned.

"Come on! Let me pull out the camera! Or the camcorder!"

"Leon," you scowled, grabbing onto his arm and tugging him toward the door. He glanced back at Claire and you moved quicker, knowing she was capable of worse.

You thought you were in the clear before you heard her calling, "Bring her back by 12 or I'll hunt you down. My buddy's a cop!"

"You talking about me, Redfield?" Leon called back.

"Do anything I would do!" Claire cackled.

"The saying is 'Don't do anything I would do'," You said, turning around to cross your arms.

She grinned. "I know."

"You couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"I give you permission to get back at me."

"I will. I promise I will." You ignored her laughter as you turned back to Leon. "You ready?" You paused, catching him staring. Making sure your expression was cool and collected, you attempted to ignore how your heart was playing hopscotch every time you looked at him.

His gaze dropped before he said, "I didn't get the chance to tell you. You're beautiful."

Snapshots weren't enough. If you could, you would tattoo this moment into your brain. This close, you could count the beauty marks on his neck. His blue eyes were dark in the night, but they were alight with sincerity.

You didn't give yourself the time to think, because your heart was in disarray and if your mind got the memo, it would ruin this for you… So you were honest. "So are you."

He studied your face, his eyes lowering before flicking back up. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

You didn't question why he led you to a car that wasn't his, watching him as he rounded the hood. You couldn't stop staring with his hair out of his face, and you realized you couldn't look away even if it was.

When he was in the driver's seat, he didn't turn the car on right away. You were nervous to look at him head on, knowing you weren't being yourself but unable to break away from it. Your palms were still sweaty, your heart was making it hard to breathe quietly. His cologne hit your nose then, familiar and subtle. You breathed it in, focusing on the scent and willing yourself to relax. This was Leon. This wasn't some blind date.

Even the silence was different than that first time.

You finally turned your head to see he was watching you.

"What?"

"Nothing," There was that tug and you realized he might be laughing at you.

"You're laughing at me." You cried, and the smile shifted into something a little more obvious.

"I'm not. You just looked… like you were meditating. It was cute."

"I was just thinking!"

"I didn't want to interrupt."

"How thoughtful. Now, is there a reason we're just sitting here?" You were flustered. You couldn't believe you weren't keeping your cool. That's when you noticed the sound of rustling and looked to see Leon was reaching into the back seat. Your eyes traced the expanse of his chest, how his biceps were prominent even beneath the jacket. His left hand was gripping the steering wheel.

You straightened your back, attention drawn to the brown paper gift bag he now held in his hand.

Your eyebrows raised. "Is that…?"

He held it out and you grabbed it, lips parting as you stared down at it.

"It's nothing big or anything. I just wanted to get you something and maybe you won't like it. I kept the receipt and-"

"Leon."

"Yes?"

"Please be quiet." You moved the tissue paper out of the way and reached in, noting it was a book. You pulled it out and strained to see in the darkness of the car. Leon turned the overhead light on and you read the cover.

As your fingers traced the letters, he rambled, "Recently, you told me how important it was for you to get stronger. How much you want to. And I know I'm always here to give you pointers, but I also know you like doing things on your own too. I think that's amazing, and maybe a book isn't the way to go but-"

No time for a messy heart and a loud brain. You leaned over the console and pressed a kiss into Leon's cheek.

He froze, and he was still frozen when you were back in your seat. Everything was telling you not to look at him, but you couldn't help it.

His eyes were wide and his lips were parted. Because of the overhead light, you noticed the slight flush of his neck. You bit back a smile.

"Thank you." You didn't get him a gift, and you made a note that you wanted to. All you could think about was Leon listening to you so intently, even when you thought you were rambling or when no one else would bother. He was caring, kind. He was beautiful. "I love it."

He turned, snapping out of it. "You do?"

"I do."

He smiled.

So did you.

Notes:

I'm so glad you were loving Hunnigan in the last chapter :D I have a lot of fun writing her.
I hope you can see the vision I was going for with Leon's look. If not, please picture him wearing something else haha I don't mind. I have photo references as well if anyone's interested.

There's so much going on these days. I've met my reading goal for the year already, and there's still so much I want to read. I just finished Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross and it ruined me. It was magnificent.

I also started One Piece recently. I always wanted to give it a chance but just wasn't sure about it. I'm so glad I finally did because I've fallen in love with it.

To wrap up this note (you know they tend to run a little long) I wanted to share with you that the organization of Chapters 13-15 inspired how I organized Chapters 37-40: Leon leading up to the date, MC leading up to the date, and the date itself. I wanted to do it ever since that first dinner, so I'm glad I was able to do it again. I know you're eager to read the date itself, however I hope these last two chapters were worth it. They've come a long way, haven't they?

Next chapter is the date, woohoo! Talk soon,

august 3

Chapter 39: there's nothing but you and me (xxxix)

Notes:

the date is split into two chapters, and chapter 40 will also be posted tonight. i debated on when i'd post the second part, but i think it's time 3

it's a magical sort of night, and i couldn't wait any longer to share this with you.

- august

Chapter Text

No one speaks of it, but there are little pockets of time that become magic.

Nights with friends that pack a year's worth of fun into the seconds leading to the sunrise.

Getting to know someone.

Vacations.

Concerts.

Car rides with the person you love.

Your attention was trained on looking out the passenger window, a defense of some kind that began morphing to comfort. There was low music playing, and the little flamingo on the dashboard was bobbing to both the song and the road.

Every few minutes, you and Leon would talk. He mentioned he wanted to watch the Back to the Future sequels now. You said the two of you should have a movie night.

You brought up how when you were younger, Carlos had shown you Bruce Lee movies and you wanted to be a martial artist so badly growing up. Leon said you still could. You thought about that and when you smiled at him, he smiled back.

More than once, your gaze went to his right hand, the one gently pressed into the bottom of the wheel while his left hand steered. You pictured being bold, reaching over and intertwining your fingers. What would it be like to hold it here and now, to kissing his hand or to him kissing yours?

You clenched your fist and turned back to the passenger side window.

A little while later, while you were warming up your fingers near the vents, you glanced at Leon. "You're still not going to tell me where we're going?"

He glanced at you. "Why ruin the fun now?"

"No hints?"

"Any hint would give it away."

The drive had mostly been a straight shot. You mirrored him now, turning your attention to the front windshield. The dark sky stretched overhead, and the scenery had mostly been forest on either side until a few minutes ago as the road winded down the mountain toward a smaller town you hadn't stopped in but had driven through before. "Then tell me why you chose this place."

His left hand tightened around the wheel then relaxed. You trailed his arms, his shoulders, his neck, his jaw. His response was only slightly louder than the music. "I pictured you there and thought you would have fun."So simple. Except it was so sweet. His honesty cut your heart open, made it hard to breathe in this little pocket flooded with Leon. "I just hope you like it."

"I'll love it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Because it could be his apartment, it could be yours. It could be across the world. It could be anywhere. With him there, it would be a place you loved.

You started to put the pieces together as you drove through the little seaside town. There were only so many places you could go in a place like this, and the thought of what laid at the end of the drive had your heart beating a quickened percussion.

When he pulled into a parking lot, your gaze was already on all the bright lights a short distance away. "The pier?" You glanced at him, and his glimmering eyes were as bright as the pier lights.

"It's okay if you'd rather not-"

"I told you I'd love it," You cut him off.

You had only been to a pier like this once with friends back in college. None of you had had much money back then, so you'd stuck to the beach and cheap snacks, briefly walking through the pier.

He wasn't kidding about staying warm; being this close to the ocean at night had you stomping your feet and pulling your coat tighter.

The sound of his door closing had you dragging your eyes away from the ferris wheel, taking care to school your expression as he circled the car. He fit into a night at the ocean, in a beach town, on a boardwalk. You wondered… if everything that had ever happened to the two of you hadn't happened… would the two of you find yourselves here again?

"I have an extra jacket if you'd like-" Leon stopped himself and squeezed his eyes closed, "Well, I do… in my car."

"You're going to have to catch me up on why you're driving Ingrid's car," You said, recognizing it after the drive.

"Nothing too exciting, but sounds like a plan." He went quiet. The two of you, in this lit up beach parking lot with the distant sounds of waves and yells from the rollercoaster. His eyes pinning you here, cold air biting the both of you in your clothing different from your day to day… you were exposed. Mouth dry, you let him study you and you worried that if you tried to speak, he would have taken your voice too.

You blinked and relaxed your shoulders. It was still Leon. Maybe his eyes were a little easier to read, maybe he looked painfully handsome with his hair like this and maybe his cologne was intoxicating, but it was your Leon. "You ready?"

His eyebrows jumped a little before he nodded.

You held out your hand, ignoring how your heart shot up like a slingshot, picturing awkwardly waiting or being rejected-

He grabbed your hand before leading you toward the sidewalk.

"Do you like places like this?" He asked.

You hummed in question, distracted. The walk wasn't far- the two of you were already nearing the pier and could see all of the rides, smell the freshly made desserts. Maybe if you were here with your old college friends, you'd be focused on that. Instead, all you could think of is the feeling of his hand against yours. Callused and warm.

His question registered and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. "I do. At least sometimes. I think everyone should come to places like this once in a while. I used to wish I could go to the fair every year when I was younger."

"Why didn't you?"

"We couldn't really make it happen." Sometimes Carlos surprised you with tickets- working odd jobs to save up for the discounted days- the two of you would eat so much junk food you'd get sick. When you got a little older, you weren't as interested in it anymore. He got busier, too. You let the memory fade, pulling Leon ahead. "Come on!"

There were families, teenagers, and couples all roaming about. Everywhere you looked something was going on. The rollercoaster had just roared overhead, trailing screams behind. The smaller games had bright flashing lights and dramatic music.

You let go of his hand to read a nearby menu of a food stand. When you turned back to look at Leon, you saw his pursed lips as he watched a zig zag ride where people in rocking cages were screaming. You learned closer to him as if sharing a conspiracy, whispering, "Do you like rides, Leon?"

"Not exactly."

You tried to bite back a grin but must've failed as he looked at you and narrowed his eyes. "That's a villainous smile."

"Do they scare you or…?"

He shifted in place. "They're just not fun to me." Suddenly, his head snapped up and he stared at you for slightly too long. His voice came out a little strained. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a killjoy. We can go on all the rides if you want. I don't mind."

You blinked. "We don't have to."

"I can handle it. If you like rides, I'd like to ride them with you." His brow was set, his eyes passionate, that your heart stuttered. Your hand came up and his fervor disappeared as he watched your hand find his upper arm. You squeezed it, ignoring the firmness of his bicep.

"Seriously, I think with the food we'll be eating? Riding all the rides would be dangerous. Although we do have to ride the ferris wheel. And the rollercoaster."

He nodded along, stopping at the last word. Your hand was still on his arm. You held out your hand once more. "Come on, then."

Leon grabbed it before rotating his hand and intertwining your fingers. Ignoring how your heart was racing, the two of you kept walking. You made note of the food stalls you were considering, telling him a deep fried oreo was a must on this kind of date.

"Deep fried oreo?"

You stopped walking, pulling him to the side and pinning him with your scrutiny. "Do I have to explain what that is to you?"

"No, I get the gist." Leon's attention diverted as a young blonde girl with a braid rushed past. He continued, "I don't get a lot of opportunities to try sweet stuff. Or anything like that."

Your hand was getting sweaty in his, despite the chill in the air. You still didn't let go. "I see. For work?"

He didn't nod but you knew that was why. You started to understand Leon was incredibly disciplined. Maybe he always had been. "Would you like to try some?"

He tilted his head at you. You bit your tongue as you watched that familiar quirk of his mouth. "I think everyone should get the chance to at least try a deep fried oreo. Sounds like a rite of passage. Or poison."

"That's the best kind."

You bought a deep fried oreo to share, and you got to watch his face as he tried something you couldn't really describe in words. A kaleidoscope of reactions lit his face before he decided, "This is dangerous. It's too good. It shouldn't be."

"Agreed. What do you think about churros?"

"I think maybe your question should be, 'When are we getting churros?'"

You laughed.

After some time passed and you agreed to wait on more dessert, Leon decided on hot dogs and you picked something from a different stand. He talked about how in his police academy days, sometimes he'd do his daily run through Raccoon City Park just so he could have an excuse to grab a hot dog from his favorite stand.

His voice was lovely as he reminisced, voice calm and face showing a shadow of a movie.

He finished his food before you'd taken a second bite- you were caught up in his story and him- and he pointed out, "Your food will get cold."

A little while later, the two of you moved together, bound and tethered as you moved when he did. As you walked, you watched the people who were playing the game stalls on the boardwalk. You smiled watching a mom help her young son aim a water gun at the intended target.

It was a lively night for a Sunday.

"Have a favorite game?"

"Ah, I don't know." Despite knowing most of them were rigged, you were the stubborn type. So was Carlos. The two of you would blow all your tickets or what little money you'd designated for games on a single game. That, and… "It's okay. I usually never get the prize anyway. I get close, but I've only won myself a small bear."

Leon's gaze trailed to the nearest game, scanning all the prizes tied to the top of the stall. "You want a big bear then?"

You went to refuse and then stopped yourself. Why were you going to say no? You thought of a younger you, naive and hopeful when her college boyfriend finally took her to the state fair even though he insisted on bringing your friends along, too. Younger you had asked him if he would try and win you a bear and he'd asked, What do you need a big bear for?

"Well, maybe. If you can beat something that's somehow rigged."

"Which one do you want?" Leon asked, stepping up to the game. It was a darts game, a board set up a moderate distance away with moving targets. Your eyes widened, knowing it was a game that would be made for him. If it was actually rigged, however, he might have trouble.

He handed over the ticket amount to the teen worker, whose eyes were bloodshot and had lowered eyelids. Leon shifted his body, before setting down the darts and pulling off his jacket. You froze, drinking him in, the white sleeved shirt showing off the muscles of his shoulders, arms, and stomach. "LUNA?"

You looked up, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah?"

"Which one?"

You studied the bears and prizes. Then your eyes found it. You pointed. "That one."

He didn't ask for clarification, even though you'd gathered it was vague to point to a row of stuffed animals. Somehow, he knew.

Just like you knew he was going to beat this game, rigged or not.

You watched the furthest moving obstacle, how the dart smoothly struck it and hit it back, almost as if it were stiff with a movement it wasn't supposed to have. The teen worker only looked slightly surprised before asking, "What prize?"

He didn't hesitate, "The shark. The hammerhead one."

Your arms were occupied with the hammerhead shark that was half your height, but you peered its head toward Leon. His shoulders were loose, and he'd laid his jacket across his arm as he snacked on a churro. If you could capture any moment, it would be this. A photo of him walking along, not worried, not distant. Relaxed.

"Help me name her?" You suggested instead of pouring out all of the adoration for him begging to flow out of you. The ferris wheel would be a test of your control. The rest of the night would be. He was like this boardwalk - sturdy, coaxing, warm even in the cold.

When you came to a stop at the line for the ferris wheel, he turned to face you and ran his hand along the shark's tail. "What about Doc?"

You thought about it before- "From Back to the Future?" When you realized his silence showed he was embarrassed, you laughed quietly and said, "I love it. Doc it is."

As you settled into your seat beside him, the shark stuffed across your laps, you told him you'd have to win him a prize too. The truth was, at the top of the ferris wheel, staring out at the ocean and the nearby beach, you didn't have time to think on how he felt pressed against you, or if you turned to look at him you might grow dizzy with need.

You simply said, "You know, I expected more from the view. It's just dark."

"I wasn't going to say anything. I didn't want to burst your bubble." The two of you went quiet. You broke first.

As you lost it in laughter, you peered at him through squinted eyes and saw he was trying to stay calm before he chuckled to himself.

"Romantic, isn't it?" He deadpanned.

You nodded, because you couldn't really talk.

"The view isn't." You are was hidden in your words, frustration building as you realized you still struggled to express yourself to him. As the ferris wheel lowered the two of you, you memorized the heat of his body pushed into your side. As you walked off, planning for the rollercoaster next, you didn't have to recall the feel of him against you. His hands were imprinted on yours, his presence drawing you in closer and closer with the tide as the night went on.

It was only a matter of time, you realized.

When you joined the line and shared a look, you finally understood the look he'd been giving you long before you'd begun to understand it in yourself.

The longing.

The want.

You were heading to him the way he was heading to you.

It was in your veins and his, and it was a race now.

The two of you had arrived.

His pinky grazed yours. Yours did it back hooking his.

Quietly, you released a breath.

The two of you were suddenly at the front of the line for the Sea Bear Rollercoaster.

"Here we go," Leon said under his breath.

Yes. Here we go.

Chapter 40: we reach the shore (xl)

Chapter Text

The Sea Bear Rollercoaster left the both of you with icy cheeks and watery eyes. As you were rubbing your hands together and talking about getting a warm drink, Leon stepped closer as he listened and silently buttoned up your coat. You paused mid-sentence and watched him do it. His head was tilted as he listened, and he flicked his gaze up. "Coffee, then?"

Undoubtedly, he'd made a mess of you.

Was it a mess if it's the happiest you'd been? A happiness you'd never tasted, but now that you'd gotten the slightest drink, couldn't get enough?.

Leon led you to a nearby bench that faced away from the ocean. When you sat down, he said he'd bring you both drinks. You watched him go, knowing your smile at his back must've given it all away. Did he already know? Did he know how much this meant to you?

Even if it was the last time. Even if Leon never truly became yours, there would always be a piece of you that belonged to him.

You looked down at your hands.

You couldn't remember what it was like to not be fighting an uphill battle. Maybe you really have gotten comfortable at work, soft with all the people you've met and now care about. Maybe you still carried all this weight, but it was a lot more manageable knowing you weren't alone. You didn't have to choose to be alone.

As you watched him order, you noticed other people taking notice of him too; you understood he was a painful kind of pretty. The weight of his gaze, the cut of his face. So many people in the life you shared didn't take the time to know him, or maybe thought he wouldn't bother. Only a few understood he was all heart.

Your smile crept up again as he approached.

He stopped just out of reach. You shot him a questioning look. Shaking his head, he took the spot beside you. "Nothing. You just… you look how I imagined you would."

"Like?"

"Like you're having fun."

"I do have fun. With you."

He held the cup close to his lips before nodding. You traced the action, how his throat bobbed with his drinking. You imagined his lips being warm from the coffee.

Coughing at the thought, you focused on warming your hands before taking a sip. He'd memorized your order.

You patted Doc, who was resting on your lap, as you said, "He's going to take up a lot of my bed."

Leon's eyes widened. "I didn't think about that."

"That's okay. I like cuddling," You said, then you thought about what you said and you tensed. When you side-eyed Leon, you froze at the slight flush of his neck and his faraway look. Your mind also went to what he must've been imagining- cuddling with him, tucking in closer and his arms around you.

"I, uh," His hand came up and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm glad."

You watched him before hiding a laugh behind your hand. You'd seen him be flirty. You'd experienced it, in fact. Even so, this side of him was cute. Just then, your eyes snagged on something further down the pier and you smacked your palm repeatedly into his chest. "Leon! There's a photobooth!"

He followed your gaze before asking, "Want to?"

"It's okay if you don't want to-"

"I do. Let's go."

You tucked in closer to his side when a harsh wind suddenly whipped through the pier. His eyes went to the sky overhead."I think it's going to rain." You inhaled deeply, smelling the telltale sign.

"That's… not ideal." For a first date. Or a second one.

The two of you came to the photo booth then. Your previous worries fell away as you noticed the nearby employee near an accessory and shirt stand. When you made eye contact, they droned, "The hats and glasses on that rack are half price for the photobooth."

You shared a look with Leon before turning the rack and studying the sunglasses.

"How do I look?"

You turned just as Leon was turning away from the set up mirror. You had prepared to tease him, but you couldn't deny how hot he looked. Even in red-rimmed heart-shaped glasses. Even in glasses that may have looked silly. "You're annoyingly good-looking, sometimes."

You turned back to the glasses instead of teasing him. He scoffed, "Annoyingly good looking?"

"Yup."

The employee huffed under his breath and you knew he agreed. Even some nearby teenage girls were laughing and whispering as they pretended to study the jewelry on sale when they were really watching Leon.

"That's not a thing," Leon finally mustered up, pulling them off his face.

"It is a thing, and you have it."

"I'm annoying then?"

"That's what you focus on, not the good looking part?"

"Who cares about that? Am I annoying?"

You stopped examining big winged sunglasses as you turned to him. His voice was carefully neutral but you knew him now. He was worried. "You're not annoying. The emphasis was on good-looking."

When he met your gaze, a grin struck his face and stunned you as you realized. He was messing with you! Leon was teasing you instead of the other way around! He leaned toward you and pushed the glasses up your nose. "I just wanted to hear you say I'm good-looking again."

"Leon!"

He sighed. "That's nice, too."

"I take it back. You're annoying."

"And you're pretty with those glasses on. Can I get them for you?"

You were stunned again. You could only nod and turn away to gather yourself together. You picked a simple black pair for him and got them, reminding him you still were going to win him a prize.

The photo booth was a tight fit. Leon's shoulders prevented him from being fully in the booth and was peeking outside the curtain.

"Tight fit," He said.

"Uh huh." You reached across him and tried to pull the curtain closed around his shoulder but it just fell back into its original position. You huffed in irritation and tried again, mumbling before giving up. As you moved to sit back, you realized Leon had gone uncharacteristically still. Then you knew.

You knew from the way his eyes dragged up your body and met your gaze this close.

The press of your body against his had stilled him.

His mouth was close and his eyelids lowered. You faced forward, shifting your body to try and give him more room and knowing it was no use. He was still watching you and you heard him exhale in amusement as you pushed the buttons for the photos, trying to occupy yourself.

"We can make more room but only if you're okay with it."

"What are you thinking?" You said, pretending to pick a background.

"You could sit on my lap."

Your finger froze on the button. "It won't be too bad if we stay like this."

"Okay."

Waiting a beat, you blurted out, "Are you okay with… me sitting on your lap?"

"Yes-" He scoffed the word out before his gaze snapped to yours and his next words came out flustered, "Well, I mean, I don't mind."

It was your turn to exhale in amusement before standing and letting him adjust. As you settled onto his legs, back straight and face close to the screen, you muttered, "You'd think they'd make these a little bigger. I mean, doesn't everyone take photos with at least one other person?"

Leon didn't say anything. Not until the first countdown started going. "Do you mind if I wrap my arms around you?"

You tried to think of a response but you were still trying to make sure he was comfortable-

"It's just you seem really tense. You can get more comfortable."

"You can, I just didn't want you to have all my weight on you-" You explained but before you finished, his arms were around you and pulling you back.

Your eyes widened as you settled on his chest with his arms locked around you, face coming up right beside yours. You tried to focus on the picture but the scent of his cologne flooded your nose. He was so warm, so solid. You'd never been this close-

Click.

Your eyes widened. "Shit! I wasn't ready!"

"The first one always gets everyone."

"Okay. Just-" You shifted a little to the side, so that you were halfway on him and halfway in the seat. "That's better." The countdown was fast. You only had a few seconds. "Smile!" You smiled, and there was the click.

"For this one, maybe a silly face?" You suggested.

He nodded before you squished your lips together like a fish. At the last second, you saw he wasn't doing anything and reached over to squish his lips together too. Click.

"Hey!" Leon said, surprised.

"You were just sitting there!"

"I was thinking."

"We have ten seconds!"

"Last one," Leon pointed out before he looked at you. Your heart was pumping, as if you were running and you hadn't gotten the chance to rest. You wanted to, you did, but was this right?

Then you felt his arm around you, and his head pressed into yours as he looked at the camera. Your heartbeat calmed down even as the seconds ticked away. His arm was gentle, and his head was a comforting pressure on yours.

Leon must've known you were worried. He was doing so much to relax you, to make sure you were having fun.

You pressed closer and smiled.

Click.

He stepped out of the booth first, and as you followed, you greedily drank in the sight of his back. Everything about this night so far… It was straight out of a movie. You could worry, you could wonder if something was going to go wrong or if this were too good to be true, but you didn't have it in you.

You couldn't have it in you when Leon made it impossible to do anything but focus on him.

"They're ready," He said as he reached down and grabbed the photo strips. He handed one copy to you as he examined the other.

The first had you gritting your teeth in embarrassment. He was so close, cheek practically touching yours and eyes on the camera. You? You still hadn't been prepared to feel him all around you and your expression reflected that as you stared off into space with parted lips. The second square banished your embarrassment, an indecipherable feeling washing over you and tightening your chest; you were smiling at the camera and Leon was looking at you, a soft look on his face. You'd told him to smile and instead he chose to look at you.

The third square made you laugh, his alarmed eyes the funniest part despite the two of your faces being squished.

The last square, however, was your favorite. The two of you looked comfortable. Happy. Like you'd found peace.

You swallowed thickly, sliding the photostrip into your coat pocket. When he looked up, you whispered, "They're perfect."

"They are," He agreed. As his attention moved to the crowd, always on the lookout and always aware, you studied him. What was he thinking? This… truth of yours. Was it his, too?

"It's definitely going to rain. We should…" He stopped. We should probably go. Did he stop because he didn't want to, or because he was afraid of disappointing you?

"We should," You agreed, "But maybe in a little bit."

Instead of a response, he held out his hand this time. You made sure to hold on to him, even awkwardly holding Doc underneath your other arm and even when other people made it a little hard to move side by side.

You spotted a familiar game and pulled him to a stop. "Prize time."

Leon stood off to the side, holding Doc and watching you as you got ready to race two other people in a water gun race. As you lined up your target, you considered how failing at this in front of a trained agent like Leon might be a little embarrassing, but after he shot you a thumbs up, you knew it wouldn't be.

The bell went off to signal the race.

Your aim was only slightly off on the target. Even that second delay cost you the match against the kid and the other person down the row. You placed in third. Placed in last.

"It was my practice round," You said to Leon and he nodded his encouragement.

The second time, you hit it square on and it still wasn't enough. The kid won again and picked another large stuffed animal. You couldn't even see his body over the animals. You pursed your lips.

"Third time's a charm?" Leon offered.

You gripped the sides of the water gun and focused- only for the worker to say, "Sorry. You have to have at least one other person to race."

Turning toward the kid, you debated pleading with him to go against you one last time but as he walked away with his arms full, you decided seeing him with a third would be more humiliating.

"I can go against you."

You looked up and saw Leon standing closer now. "No, the whole point of this is me winning you something. What if you beat me?"

"Then… you can pick the prize."

"It's not the same. It's about the principle."

He sat in the seat stool next to you, twisting it so that it faced you. "Well, then. Win."

You narrowed your eyes. "You teasing me?"

"I'm not. You're the one that said these things are rigged right? That means we're on even playing field." You didn't miss how the employee glared at you after hearing what Leon said. Though you were sure he was going to win, you couldn't back down. Maybe the younger you was coming out, but you wanted to beat him. You wanted to beat him and give him the prize.

"Okay, you're on."

The two of you got set up. You bit down in annoyance seeing how relaxed Leon's hands were on the water gun- he was barely even touching the handles- before focusing on your target. You thought about cheating at the start by grabbing his gun or something but figured that was the easy way out.

You were going to win.

The bell went off and it was over in seconds.

You lost.

"Would you have been more mad if I let you win?" Leon asked.

"I'm not mad," You deadpanned as each of you carried a prize- Leon was holding Doc, and you were holding the big pink owl that you had chosen. "But if you're going to beat me at every game, I think you're going home empty handed."

"I don't mind. I like winning you prizes."

Couldn't he let you be determined? Why did he have to be sweet?

With Leon's observations of the crowd thinning out and the distant sound of thunder, you knew time was running out. You tried another game. And another. As you walked around, feet aching, you knew it wasn't about the prize. It was about spending more time in this moment. It was about wanting to be here with him and not worry about anything else.

"Okay this will be the last try." You knew it was a lost cause; the throwing hoops on moving ducks never went well. You missed your first, landed your second. If you missed more than one, you were out of luck. You missed your third. You deflated, throwing your fourth and shocked to see it land. It was all on this last one. Should you aim? Should you not think about it?

"You got this," trailed into your ear, and you tried to hide the shiver that racked through you at Leon's closeness. You tossed it, not really looking. It landed. You cried out in surprise before reeling to face him and grab his arms.

"Pick out of these," The employee said and your happiness was short-lived. Apparently you had to hit four to get a bigger prize. The prizes for three were keychains and magnets.

You made eye contact with the employee and he held up his hands. "Don't blame me."

"I'll take this one," Turning to Leon, you saw his hand was clasped around one you couldn't see. The employee nodded and you followed after him as he led the way back down the pier.

"What did you pick?" Curious, you tried to peek. He held it up and turned so you could see. It was a light blue shark, a mirror image of the one he'd won you. Your heart soared and then fell as you looked over the keychain and into his eyes.

"Doc?"

"We can name this one Marty."

Suddenly, it didn't matter you'd won him something small. From the look in his eyes, you knew it was as big as the stuffed animal he won you. You held out your hand and he gave it to you. "Keys." He handed them over and you put the keychain on before holding them up. "Now we're matching."

If you could only capture moments.

You wanted more time. You didn't want it to end. When you spotted the bench from earlier, you pulled him over and pushed down on his shoulders to get him to sit. "Wait here."

He didn't get to indulge in sweets, in fun, in going out. So much of his life was under someone's thumb. You wanted this to last for him too.

You bought two churros, knowing it was something small but it would still earn you more seconds. As you walked toward him, he waved Doc's fin at you in greeting. You laughed even as your heart twisted with each passing second.

Your feet flooded with relief as you sat down and handed over the churro.

"Didn't even consider buying something more than once."

"Hello? That's the whole point of desserts."

As you began eating he said, "I talked to one of the employees. They said the weather forecast was light rain, so we should be good. But I know we have to drive back, too."

You nodded and turned around so you could look out into the dark abyss of the ocean.

The night was ending and the bliss was twinged a bit with sadness. You allowed yourself to feel it. Since you'd met him, you'd let yourself feel a lot more than you had in years.

"When you think of the future, what kind of feeling do you get?" You leaned your chin on your arm, trying to make out the waves and the dark sky. Trying not to look at him but always feeling that pull.

"Truthfully?" He had turned so that he could look out at the ocean, too. "I feel nothing. A long time ago, I had to make peace with the present. I couldn't even fathom a future. It's a habit that's stuck. Ask me about my future? I feel… Well, I feel nothing. Ask me about someone else's…"

You looked at him. "Whose should I ask about?"

Startled, he met your stare before darting away. "It's always been about helping other people. Along the way, I've just tried to hold onto that. Even in times where it feels like I'm doing more harm. That night… Raccoon City…" His eyes squeezed closed before they opened and it was the same collected composure. The same distance. This time, you were on the other side beside him, "It became about getting who I could out. It became about Claire. About Sherry. About others I couldn't save. It wasn't about me. Maybe it never has been."

"It is, though." Your hand found his wrist. "It's about you, too."

He stared down at your hand, a bittersweet smile on his lips. "Yeah, maybe. What matters is that they're good."

You nodded. "Sherry?"

Leon inhaled. Exhaled. "From what I know, she's doing okay."

"You haven't seen her?"

"Has Claire?"

"Claire…" Well, Claire was someone who liked to keep things light. Claire was someone who wouldn't linger long on the past, though her passion for change stemmed from it. She was all about the future, about moving forward. "She's mentioned her. I think… I think it's really painful for her, not being able to see Sherry, either."

"The choices we make, we have to live with." You thought of Carlos, of dedicating your life to him. What was at the end of all this?

"Does it make you sad?" You asked, knowing the mixture of your own decisions was creeping in.

"Not anymore."

"If not the future, what do you want for yourself?" When you didn't receive a response, you turned to see he was watching you. You couldn't read his expression, so you rushed out, "It doesn't have to be a dream, or a goal, or anything. It could be something small."

"I… I don't know."

"That's okay." There was a low rumbling overhead and you didn't hear it as your heart pinched at the frown on his face. "Really, you don't have to know-"

"Thank you." Leon flipped his hand over and held yours, gripping it before letting go. "I've been complacent in my life for a long time. It's easier that way, I'm good at it. At least for myself. I can't help it when it's for other people. But being near you… it pulls me open. It makes me remember there is more to it all."

Guess you couldn't judge him for his speechlessness from earlier. All you could ridiculously think of to say was, "I'm glad."

"To answer your question, I guess it remains to be seen."

"Well," You handed him the remainder of your churro to finish off, "I look forward to seeing it." As he finished, you relaxed your shoulders and said, "I'm sorry, I really hit you with deep questions."

"Don't apologize."

"You can ask me, too."

He thought about it. "There's a lot I want to know. We can start off small."

You'd like that. You'd like to start off small with him. He asked, "Favorite song?"

You threw your head back. "That's not small. I can't pick one!"

"Just like movies?"

"Exactly!"

"I should've known."

"You should've." You smiled at him and he gave you his signature small one. Even those were the biggest reward.

A drop of water, then, fell on his eyelashes before it trailed down his cheek. You felt one on your hand, and you both looked up as you held out your hand. For a few moments, it was a gentle start.

The light rain forecast had been false.

From one moment to the next, it slammed down.

"Shit!" He called out as you both rushed to your feet. You looked around, seeing people rushing down the pier while others looked for a place to huddle. Employees were closing up booths and stalls and you spotted a smaller booth that had enough room under its covering.

"There!"

The two of you sprinted over before making it underneath and out of the rain. It was brutal, loud, and making it hard to see even a small distance in front of you.

You were drenched just from those several seconds exposed. Your coat was heavy due to the material and Leon's hair was dripping. You opened your mouth and lost your train of thought as you noticed his white sleeve shirt clinging to the front of his body. Clearing your throat, you abruptly turned away.

"It's raining cats and dogs," Leon commented. When he sensed your judgment at his words, he shrugged.

Sighing, you leaned back into the table behind you, wondering if it would calm down soon as you slid your hand into your pocket. You felt something damp. Eyebrows drawing together, you pulled it out of your pocket- and your stomach dropped.

Your photo strip from earlier.

The top two were completely drenched and bleeding down. You remembered Leon had a copy too and you turned in hope- before it was crushed seeing his was also damaged and in his hand. He muttered, "Guess this doesn't escape storms either."

When you turned away, you hoped it appeared more casual in order to mask your disappointment. You loved those photos. You managed to push out, "Where's that umbrella when you need it?"

"Hey." You closed your eyes at his tone, hoping he wouldn't- "Look at me." His voice was soft. You couldn't fight it if you tried. His hand on your shoulder met no resistance as you did what he asked. His face fell at the look on your face.

"It might be silly, but I just… I loved them. I'm sad they're ruined."

He didn't say anything as he searched your face before he grabbed your icy hand with his and held it tight. "Come on."

You let him pull you back out into the pouring rain and down the pier. He was fast, so it was a little hard to keep up, but he matched your pace every time he checked on you. Through the heavy rain, you saw he'd taken you back to the photobooth.

There was an employee who was in the middle of closing it down and paused seeing the two of you standing there. "It's closed!"

"Is there a way for us to take some really quick?"

The man eyed Leon strangely before calling out through the rain, "Can't because of the power cords!"

Leon looked over his shoulder at you. His hair was a mess, but he kept pushing it up and out of his face. His face was set and his eyes held that determined glint that twisted your stomach before he took a step toward the guy. Leon spoke quietly with him and the sound of the rain made it impossible to hear what they were saying.

He was going through all this trouble. It was seriously okay.

You were disappointed, but even that was already fading at the sight of him. He had charged through a storm to see if he could make you feel better.

When he turned back toward you and reached out with his one free hand- a soaked and sad Doc drooping beneath his other arm- you were already reaching out and intertwining your fingers. Stepping inside, he pulled you into the booth as his back knocked into the wall before reaching behind you and yanking the curtain closed. The only light was blurred and coming from the ferris wheel.

"Tight fit," You whispered.

"We can make it work." He said, not recognizing you were quoting him.

You didn't say anything about why the two of you were standing, or how he put Doc onto the seat. He was pressed against the wall and his hands were resting on your sides. The sound of the rain crashing into the booth matched the fast beating of your heart. Staying occupied, you pressed on the button.

"It's not turned on."

"He agreed to turn it on if the rain would let up in fifteen minutes."

"We don't have to do this-"

"We do."

You finally looked up at him. "Leon, this is more than enough."

He pointed at the screen. "You really wanted photos. We can do it again."

"No, I mean…" You put down the stuffed owl you'd been carrying before your hands pressed into his chest. He went still. "This is better than the photos."

"But you like photos. You love them. You have them everywhere."

"I do," You agreed. You looked at him in the dark. It was difficult to discern his expression. You could hear the dripping of your clothes, feel how the water in his hair slid onto your hands. The darkness in his gaze was overwhelming you. "But everything you've done. It's more than a photo."

Leon studied you. At least, you think he did. After a few moments, he let his head fall back onto the wall. His voice was quiet among the rain. It was all you heard. "I wanted this to be perfect."

His words registered. They were a wave, building and building before crashing into you. It twisted inside of you, took control over you. Your grip tightened on his shirt and it grabbed his attention. "You're so…" His eyebrows lowered as you sighed, "Infuriating."

"Infuriating?"

"Yes. You don't see it?"

Instead of responding, he continued watching you.

His icy fingers. You could feel them through your clothes and lightly pressing into the skin of your sides. You stood between his legs, and your mind mapped how his hands were on you. How his chest felt beneath your hands. How even without touching you, his presence was all-consuming.

He prompted, "See what?"

"This is perfect. Everything about it. Even the rain. Because of you."

It was building again. It wasn't a wave. It wasn't life-changing was it? Because you had been altered already that day he put his umbrella over you.

His grip tightened and even though it was dark, you knew.

Your hands slid up, and you were moving closer. His head was lowering, your heart was at ease. Your eyes were closing. His hand was on the side of your neck. Icy fingers, warm and fast breaths.

His thumb swiped your bottom lip. "Can I…?"

You opened your eyes and your answer was there. That look he always had when he looked at you was there.

Your look said the same.

His lips met yours.

The sound of the rain rushed in as you soaked him in. His lips were careful at first, soft as they moved slowly against yours. You shuffled closer and he pressed harder. His other hand moved up your side and grabbed the back of your neck, tilting his head to move his mouth over yours.

You were kissing him and he was kissing you and you were sure you'd never done anything so bold, so intimate, so addicting. His gentle kiss disappeared as his open-mouthed kiss grew more passionate. You gasped when his thumbs skimmed beneath your jaw and he pulled away, leaning his forehead on yours.

His chest was rapidly moving, and his voice came out hoarse. He said your name.

Your arms wound around his neck, and he reached up to grab your wrists, pulling them down and holding them between you. He held your gaze through the dark when he pulled your bandaged hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the palm. His eyes slid closed and he sighed your name again.

You pulled him to you, knocking your mouth into his. He let you take the lead. Leon was your senses and the storm was gone again. Your hands were tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck and he sighed on your lips.

"Leon," You whispered.

When your tongue snuck out to meet his lips, he grabbed your face and pressed closer. He took over, and this wasn't destruction. This wasn't something you could ever prepare for, yes. But it couldn't possibly be a storm. It was oblivion. "Leon," You said again and he pulled away.

His eyes were heated. His hair was down in his face and his pulse was racing. His thumb skimmed your face again, ran along your bottom lip where his gaze lingered, before he pulled you into a hug.

The heat was slowly disappearing as the rain quieted overhead. Shivering, you pressed closer and wrapped your arms around him. Resting your face close to his neck, you ignored the way your clothes uncomfortably clung to you.

You breathed him in.

The feel of his hand on the back of your head, holding you to him.

Even with the warmth of him, you shivered.

You knew why you'd said his name. Why you kept saying it.

Because you were really saying something else.

"Let's go home," You whispered.

The rain wasn't pouring when the two of you stepped out. Leon talked with the worker again, giving him a tip even when he refused. He stopped the two of you from leaving and raced away before coming back with an umbrella and two towels.

When you made it to the car, you laid all your belongings at your feet and the towels on the seats. Holding your hands to the heater, you tried to focus on the windshield wipers. Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Don't.

When you did, it was another confined space of yours as the both of you moved toward each other.

The rain was less of an intruder in this car. The music was indiscernible. The heater roared as your hands clumsily grabbed onto him. His breaths were fast and his mouth quivered before parting on yours.

His fingers were pressed into your wrists, skimming up beneath your sleeves.

You couldn't pick a favorite song, not now. It was that sound. It was every sound he made.

When you pulled away and searched his eyes in the yellowed light of the car, his look said the same.

You pressed a kiss into his thumb.

Leon said your name.

You kissed him in response.

Chapter 41: i'm on your side (xli)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Tell me," Your heavy eyelids matched your tone as he watched you, "How many times have you saved the world?"

"Not many."

The date had ended hours ago, and it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. The need to be close to you, to feel you, it consumed him. He suspected it consumed you, too, with how you clung to him with your gaze and your hands.

On the ride back from the pier, you'd whispered on the dark road, I don't want this night to end.

So it didn't.

The last time he'd checked the clock, it was around 1 AM. Both of you had to get up early. Neither of you talked about going to sleep or having work. It was a brief thought that would creep up, but then you would wash over him and everything else disappeared.

After you got back to his place, the both of you changed into more comfortable clothes. When he returned from the bathroom, towel around his neck, you'd moved from the couch and walked over to him, reaching the towel up to scrub at his head. He soaked in your concentration, trying not to focus too much on the feeling of your hands drying off his hair. How nice it felt.

As the night's excitement settled, the questions you exchanged and the whispers you shared were widening in interval. He listened to you hum in question when, in your half asleep stupor, thought he had said something. The two of you had shifted from sitting up against his headboard to lying side by side atop the comforter the more sleep crept into your bones.

He wanted to pull you close and tell you he would always be here. He wouldn't be, not with his line of work. Sure, his skill and experience were above average and he had a higher likelihood of surviving than an average agent- but average agents don't get assigned the same missions he does. So he didn't say it. He would never be able to tell you he'd always be here. Leon's heart ached. Before it could crack, you broke the silence.

"Not many must be code for too many times to count," You finally responded, eyes still closed.

He was wide awake. "I think there's probably way too many close calls even without me being involved."

"Must be lonely."

He frantically studied your relaxed features. Your mind hadn't gone to complimenting him, or saying he was special. You hadn't even said something like, what would the world do without you- which was something he'd gotten before.

He swallowed the knot in his throat before raising his hand and running the back of his knuckles on your cheek. You tilted your head closer to the sensation. His voice came out soft, "I thought about your question."

Your eyes fluttered open and looked at him.

"About what I want for myself, if not the future. I want…" His knuckles paused on your cheek as he considered how to word it, "I want to plant myself. Even in this place- in this apartment- I feel like a passerby. A drifter. When I go over to yours and when I'm around you and Claire, it's something entirely different. It's heavy and it's… it's nice. I think that's my goal."

His eyelids lowered when your hand traced across his jaw, trying to stay focused on his words though every time you touched him it kickstarted his blood and his body. "I see. What are you thinking?"

"I have a few ideas. I'll keep you posted. For now," He scooted forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered as he uttered, "Get some rest, okay?"

When he moved to scoot back, your hand tightened on his shirt and held him there. He waited to see if you'd pull away before he adjusted, pulling you into his arms and feeling you relax into him. You were here, in this place, in his arms.

This was how he'd plant himself, how he'd begin to accomplish his goal. Tomorrow was never guaranteed, and he'd spend what time he could making you smile. That was one goal. There were others that he was dusting off, remembering as off-handed thoughts. All of it? It was for him to uncover.

He held you even after your breath slowed and evened out. Your body began searing heat as you relaxed. You'd gone through so much to get here, and you were still powering through as you relentlessly held onto finding your brother. He admired your strength. Your will. Your courage.

When the sky began creeping toward a dim gray and you'd pulled away from his arms in your sleep, he made sure the blanket was covering you before getting up and leaving the room. He pulled on a jacket and grabbed Hunnigan's car keys, retrieving your book from the car. When he came back inside, he turned his newly bought coffee maker on, the coffee grounds he'd bought with you inside.

He checked on the photo strips you'd laid out on a towel. They weren't unsalvageable, just not the way they once were. He still loved them.

After he checked to make sure you were still sleeping, he started on breakfast. If it were just him, he probably wouldn't have done so. Typically he settled for a fruit or something fast, but he wanted you to have a good start to the day. You'd gifted him with the best weekend of his life, it was only breakfast but picturing you happy made his hands move.

He was in the middle of preparing your plate when he sensed you behind him. His eyes moved up the wall in front of him but he didn't acknowledge you. Not yet. Leon waited for you, wanting to see what you would do.

He felt you move even closer before your arms slid around his waist and embraced him from behind. He sighed, his body relaxing while his eyes sliding closed. How was he supposed to go out there when he didn't want to be anywhere else?

He squeezed your hand and reveled in your warmth before he slowly turned around in your arms. He hugged you back as he drank in your sleepy face. "Morning."

Your arms tightened and you openly stared back, stealing his breath away. "Wow." You shook your head. "Somehow, you're even more beautiful in the morning."

He shook his head back and sighed, looking off to the side before he raised his hands and cupped your cheeks. Your eyes went wide as he skimmed his thumbs on your cheekbones. You ruined him, didn't you? You remade him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I guess, the first thing you can do is…" You leaned forward and his eyes trailed to your lips. Those lips, your mouth, warm and soft. You talked about his beauty and yet he wondered what it must be like to have yours, to be so breath-taking- Just as he sighed, his lips brushing yours, you finished, "...feed me breakfast?"

He paused, pulling away. He noted your grin and pointed over his shoulder. "Lucky for you, I'm way ahead of you."

"Lovely. It smells amazing." He moved to step back but you latched onto his wrists and angled your head so you could kiss him. His head spun as he pulled your lower lip in between his lips, an electric charge shooting through him at your surprised gasp. Abruptly, he pulled away, lowering his head to your shoulder in order to get a hold of himself.

It was hard to think, however, when your hands were rubbing his neck, threading through his hair, moving across his shoulders.

"Your plate. It's ready," He forced out.

"Thank you." When he pulled back, you gave him the sweetest smile and he pressed a quick, soft kiss to your lips before handing you the plate.

"Go ahead and eat. I'll make you a cup of coffee."

Your eyes lit up and he held back a smile.

While he prepared your cup, he glanced over the kitchen island and saw you'd cracked open the book he got you as you ate. He's never gotten high, but he supposed the bliss he was feeling may be akin to something as potent as that.

He waited as you sipped, before you told him he prepared it perfectly. Then you insisted he sit down and eat with you.

Breakfast was quiet. When he cleaned up, you hugged him from behind again. For a while, you stood like that, even though the seconds were dwindling and the two of you would have to go.

There weren't pictures in his apartment. Nor mementos. This morning it was warmer than it's ever been. Like there was food in the oven, or a fire being tended to. That's what living was. It didn't have to be the actual place, it could be this.

"I need to go home. To get ready," The words were a sigh as you tightened your arms around him. He was slow in drying his hands on a towel and he was slow in turning around; he didn't want this to come to an end, either.

"I'll take you. Just let me get ready, okay?"

You nodded, still not letting go. When you looked at him, your eyelids lowered and his stomach stirred as he tried to resist kissing you. He wondered if a different version of him got to drag the two of you back to bed and call in sick to work.

"I'll check in with Claire."

He nodded and forced himself to pull away. While he dressed, the quiet lull of your voice flowed through the apartment and tethered him. It didn't take long for him to be ready. He found you running your fingers along the photo strips, your boots on and your belongings tucked under one arm. Leon made sure you could hear him approaching, and you turned to look at him. "I'll take Doc and the octopus to my place and have them dry out in the sun for a bit. They're still damp."

"That's good. Wouldn't want our new friends to not recover."

You smiled small, you often did, but it always brought him a quick flask of pleasure to know he was able to do that for you. He noted the slight tilt of your shoulders and the way you were hugging your things, and his chest tightened. His mouth moved before his thoughts caught up, "I'd like us to have another date soon."

"I'd like that, too." You ran a hand over your head as you shuffled your feet. On an anxious exhale, you said, "It would… make me happy."

"It'd make me happy too." His words made you pause. He memorized it. He cherished it.

When you denied him holding your belongings, he held the front door open for you instead. In the elevator ride down, you surprised him with a quick kiss to the cheek. Looking at you in question, you just said, "I felt like it. You're just…" You didn't finish, and there was that smile of yours that you didn't know about.

He faced forward again, but a moment later you jabbed him in his stomach and said, "You don't have to look so pleased with yourself."

Leon muttered, "I can't be happy you kissed me?"

"You can but you were being sweet and now you look mischievous."

"Do you not like it?"

You shook your head. "I do. I like it." You wouldn't look at him, even when he tilted his head to try to get you to, and he couldn't help it.

He was a pleased and happy man.

Chris wasn't happy.

He knew it'd only been two days since Jill called, but her cryptic words didn't provide any sort of clarity. He had more questions now, on top of having to figure out how to get her the support she requested.

There was the matter of her absence from the team. He wasn't even aware of how she managed to secure a solid alibi for being gone. The more time passed without this package, without any word or support for Jill, the more he doubted the sway he did have with the team; their team's jurisdiction didn't reach as far as she seemed to believe. Her confidence with what she was sending him, however, settled him.

"... and that brings us to our final and most pressing order of business."

Chris' eyes flicked over to the projector at the end of the long table, straightening in his seat at the picture.

It was Jill. Her ID photo on display.

Bronson, who was sitting across from him, shared a look with him.

The Director's face had gone solemn. Chris ignored the rising alarm in him, watching him.

"Agent Valentine has been off the grid for three weeks now. Her request for leave was granted, however we have reason to suspect she was involved in pursuing classified knowledge and is now wanted for questioning. She must be brought into custody effective immediately."

"On what grounds?" Chris asked, pressing for more details.

The Director's eyes slid to Chris, seemingly not surprised. His face was dull as the projector light washed him out. "Though you know all you need to know, I understand your concern. Valentine is an excellent part of this team. Her prolonged absence and lack of communication is more than enough grounds for suspicion."

"Her leave was approved. What changed?" Chris wasn't letting this go. There was a reason this was happening. There always was.

"Nothing changed. In fact, if she returns and all is well, after questioning she can go about her usual responsibilities. But that's what it comes down to: she has a responsibility to this team. There are expectations of her from doing whatever she wants. Her lack of communication indicates she's either M.I.A, dead, or a deserter."

Chris stood. Everyone in the room paused, as if they blended into the furniture of the room. Only Bronson shot Chris a slight warning glance. Chris came to a stop in front of the Director, the smug bastard. These days, it was like pulling teeth and nails trying to get sanctioned and approved for state matters. The second Jill is gone, he's eager to bring her in as a potential criminal?

He looked away from the Director to Jill's ID photo displayed on the wall. He was sorry to her. Their own damn team wasn't going to be able to help her.

"If you have nothing beneficial to add, sit down. I'm not done." Finally, The Director's voice held a slight strain, and Chris held his gaze for longer than necessary as he watched him fight the urge to look away.

Chris wasn't done either. He sat back down. He began formulating his own plan to help Jill. This was telling them they need to stay in line and follow orders. Instead of concern, they jumped to suspicion. He didn't like that.

There wasn't time to consider all of that at this time.

He needed to help Jill regardless.

He always would.

Notes:

happy one piece live action premiere day! 🎉

there's so much i want to express and i never want to write essays here in the notes, but i know i shouldn't feel self conscious over it. i know some of you actually enjoy these, and that makes me happy. either way, this one is necessary because it's after the date chapter 😉 or should i say first kiss chapter? haha

leon and mc's first kiss had been planned for quite a while now, and though it took time for me to put out the chapters 38-40, it wasn't because i struggled with perfecting it. for once in my writing, the words came easy. it was one of my favorite chapters to write so far (alongside the leon/chris bar chapter LOL). they really just took the wheel on their date and it all came naturally. this story has been a gift. i feel like i've grown as a storyteller and writer.

i haven't finished responding to all of the wonderful and thoughtful comments you left on the last chapter, so please bear with me. i never want to rush through them, so if you're wondering if i've seen them i absolutely have and cherish them dearly. i just like to take my time and give proper responses since you took the time to leave me such kind words. for the longest time, i told my best friends "everyone reading is going to LOVE and freak out over this chapter" and i was right. thank you, i can't be thankful enough.

let's continue having fun 3 and let's see how it all continues to unravel toward the end (:

how are you all? any plans for the weekend? other than watching the one piece live action with my boyfriend (i am EXTREMELY excited), i have plans with my cousin to go out and have fun. i can't believe august is over (august slipped away into a moment in time iykyk).

i like how i said i try not to write essays and proceed to write the longest one yet.

happy reading!

~august

Chapter 42: fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes (xlii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When the elevator doors sealed, Leon knew it would be the last moment of quiet he'd get for an unprecedented amount of time. He wasn't concerned in the slightest about how they'd swarm him.

There was no point to dwell on how he'd get swept into the storm the moment he stepped off the elevator. There was no concern regarding himself at all.

Instead, he shamelessly watched the side of your face. You were far away, like you often were. His fingers twitched, the desire to reach out and grip your hand a lot harder to resist than he'd thought. He clenched his fist. You were staring off to the side, and what he would give for you to tell him what you were thinking.

Blinking, he faced forward.

The elevator rose and with it, the further the two of you moved away from the best weekend of his life.

Memories weren't supposed to be so painful. Treasured moments shouldn't be rigged with taut strings, clipped and snapping with each second.

He couldn't say whether or not you were ready to come back to work. No one likely ever was with something like this.

He trusted you to do what was best for you.

Three more floors. He should say something. Encouragement. Reassurance. Support. Anything-

The doors slid open and you tugged down on your coat before straightening your shoulders and schooling your expression. His lips parted as you took a step forward before you paused. Peeking over your shoulder, you shot him a reassuring smile. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

He couldn't look away, even as he was approached and the employee lingered in his peripheral, waiting. "Agent Kennedy? Sir, they're requesting your presence in the conference room."

Of course.

Half-listening to the flurry of his day's responsibilities, he strode down the hall, glancing back to watch you move further and further away from him before disappearing around the corner.

Not too far, yet stretching like miles.

Contrary to the urge to drift away, you were dead set on pouring all of your focus into your work. Reassignment was likely decided right after Agent Archer, so it was only a matter of time before they let you know…

You were reviewing some case work when someone cleared their throat behind you. Turning in your chair slowly, you dragged your eyes away from the computer only to race to stand up. Director Connors' face was always granite, both in structure and coldness. Without a word, she cocked her head and led the way to her office.

The silence on the short walk was the kind that left one's mouth awkward in its dryness. You cleared your throat, wondering if you'd get another cold lecture about being reliable. Glancing at the woman, you sensed it wouldn't be so. You looked at her a little different, knowing she'd given you the time. Not because she thought you were weak, but because she truly believed it would help. She wasn't a woman to pity or to hold your hand.

It was time to work.

She opened her office and you paused at the sight of a person sitting in one of the chairs facing her desk. He was slow in turning to peer over his shoulder.

Agent James.

His hair was dark and neat, save for the one strand that infuriatingly always found its way on his forehead- Ingrid's words, not yours. He wasn't smiling, but the quirk of his mouth had a dimple protruding.

"Agent," Director Connors was already sitting in her seat, and after her eyes flicked at the door, she motioned with a hand to the empty chair, "sit."

You'd barely sat in the chair when Agent James was speaking. "All of the formalities are a little outplayed, wouldn't you say Madame Director?"

"This isn't for your sake," Director Connors clasped her hands over the desk, and your curiosity piqued when you saw her mouth tense. "Starting today, the two of you will be partnered together."

You ignored the sinking in your stomach as you nodded once. "Understood."

"Wonderful," The leg that had been bent and resting across his other straightened as he moved to stand, "May I, then?"

In a flash, Director Connors' fist struck down on her desk, startling you. Agent James didn't move. Her voice came out eerily calm, the exact opposite of her outburst. "You may not, Mr. James. This meeting hasn't concluded. Before you mouth off, maybe you should recall your place. This isn't a playdate. This isn't a game, despite your reckless behavior. This is life. This is your life. This is hers. We lost a good agent. And you? You've been on thin ice longer than you could likely calculate. When will you catch up?"

Her speech had started with his eyes sparking with heat and ended with it fizzling out into a haunting cold. He didn't say a word.

"The loss of Agent Archer is an unfortunate and heavy one, yet we'll shoulder it and continue on. Our responsibilities remain. Both you," She regarded you then James, "and you are part of something bigger. Agent James, I expect you to not give her any trouble."

You were stunned. You'd thought agents wouldn't be held accountable for their behavior; after all, they were the ones out there in the mud. The stories of him weren't exaggerated then. With that building realization, you realized just how easy you might've had it before with someone reliable like Archer.

"Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

Her mouth tensed before she turned to her computer, dismissing the two of you. He was up first, heading for the door without so much as a glance at you. Lovely.

Right as you reached the door, she called your name. You turned halfway back.

She was typing away at her computer for a moment before addressing you. "There is an abundance of matters out of our control. We can only operate within ourselves. Remember that."

You closed the door, breathing in as you pushed the thoughts of Agent Archer tapping his folders on your head with every greeting and goodbye away.

Breathe out.

When you turned, Agent James was leaning on the wall watching you. Unlike other agents, he was always dressed crisp and pristine. Maybe that was his way of operating within himself. You resisted tensing as you took a step away from the door, then another, deciding you would just keep walking unless he'd say something.

By most standards, he was a handsome man in a cold sort of way, but his venom and his arrogance kept him away from being lumped in with the office's favorite, Leon.

The thought of Leon settled you.

"I was wondering when the Warden would give me a permanent partner. Too many temps, too much hassle." If he noticed you had every intention to ignore him, he didn't care as he matched your pace down the hall.

"Are you sure the hassle came from them?" You stopped at the threshold of the room, raising an eyebrow at him.

Agent James tilted his head. "Maybe not. No matter. Agent…"

"LUNA."

He shot a quick smile, dimple and all, before that coldness returned. "You don't have to worry or fret. In fact, I've always preferred the absolute minimum contact needed out on the field. You understand, I'm sure."

"It's my job. You need the support."

"I know it's your job. But most times, I can be my own support. " He looked at you and you understood then he honestly believed the bullshit he was spouting. How he hadn't died yet was beyond you- "One thing you must know," He leaned in and spoke low near your ear. "I'm nothing like that failure, Archer."

You stepped back as if bitten, shaking your head before reeling around to head to the break room. You weren't running, were you?

"What did I say?" He called to your retreat.

Asshole.

You had to work with him. There was no way around it. No one ever wanted to work with him, and Ingrid only did it because she was the most reliable one of all. She wouldn't quit and she certainly wouldn't let him run her off. Now, the responsibility had been thrust onto you.

Cupping your forehead, you focused on collecting everything and locking it away. It took more effort than usual. It took more out of you than it ever had. When had you gotten so…?

No. You wouldn't do that. You couldn't. Work. Focus on work.

That's all you could do.

As you neared your desk, your heart jumped at the sight of Leon at Ingrid's desk. He glanced at you over his shoulder at that moment- as if he somehow knew you'd be there-and said something to her before approaching.

You could breathe, then.

"Hey," His eyes shifted. "You alright?" He wanted to touch you, you could tell. He settled for being close.

You nodded. "You?"

"Don't worry about me, rockstar," You looked down, hiding a smile. "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out for the day. I was thinking… could I pick you up after work?"

Imagining him downstairs in the parking lot, leaning against his car and greeting you… it washed away the weights threatening to weigh you down- if for a moment. The fantasy drifted away as you suppressed a sigh. "Can't. I have to prepare for a mission." You saw the question on his face and you added, "I'm working with Agent James, now."

"Of course," Leon's voice didn't betray him but you knew him. He wasn't impressed with the pairing either. At least the two of you were in the same boat. "Let me know when you're done here and I'll still swing by."

"Won't you be busy?"

"I won't." He will be. He's still going to do it.

"If you are, just let me know okay? I'll manage."

"I know you will," You sidestepped him and moved toward your desk. As you passed, you made sure your pinky skimmed his. You didn't look back, because you recognized the energy leaving you with each step. If you looked back, you might cling onto him. You might walk out of here and never come back.

You might fail Carlos.

Settling into the seat, you pushed it all down.

You had to work.

You had to keep on.

The cigarette smoke was dense as Leon stepped into The Sparrow.

His eyes needed to adjust to the dimness and yet he knew exactly where to find Chris. He took his time in scanning the slightly too warm room, suppressing the urge to wince at the bartender behind the bar as he recalled the last time he and Chris were here.

This time, Chris was tucked into a corner booth, watching the nearest TV playing a football game as he ate his burger.

"You're not really good at being subtle," Leon greeted him, sliding into the booth across from him.

Chris didn't look away from the TV, even as he brought a couple of fries to his mouth. "Being subtle wastes time."

"Thank you," Leon said to the waitress who swooped by with a glass of water. As he cupped the glass, he added, "Funny thing to say in our line of work."

Finally, Chris dragged his eyes away from the television and narrowed his eyes at Leon, scrutinizing him. Leon didn't buckle under the weight, not put off by the brooding man like many were in the field. He'd heard all sorts of opinions about him, though Leon wasn't the type to ever indulge in gossip. Looking at Chris now, having spent time really knowing him, he was just… Chris. Solid, brotherly, a little bit antisocial.

"If I wanted to be lectured, I'd go to Claire."

"Not lecturing," Leon said, a peace offering. He had no idea why Chris called him here; he wouldn't say over the phone. "What's going on?"

Chris dipped his fry into ketchup, focus shifting once more to the television as he explained, "Team's been instructed to bring Jill in. Her absence has caught some attention. I can't help her the way I-" It was fascinating, watching how Chris reeled it all back in. His voice came out neutral once more, but Leon knew so much more. He wondered if he was like that, too. "It's out of my hands, providing her the support she's let me know she needs."

"You've been in contact?"

"She's out of the country. Sending me… something. Once I receive it, I'm going to need you to work your magic and get the DSO to pick this up. It's how we help her. It's how we help LUNA. Jill's uncovered something, and now it's time for us all to get our hands dirty, too."

Leon nodded along with the rising darkness within him. He and Chris had been iced out in your plans, and the sting of it was still there, but you had been right to involve Jill. None of you knew anything, yet Jill had managed to get a hold of something crucial.

"What happens with LUNA, then? What if it's involving her brother?"

Chris met his gaze. "I suspect it's bigger than him. It's why Jill reached out to me instead of her. So we do what we do best."

Our mission. Our orders.

This time, Leon nodded once. It was all he could manage, because Chris' words set off a more frigid cold washing over him.

A once straightforward path forcibly diverging.

He downed his glass of water, buying himself time, wishing he could plant himself in this path and force it to a stop instead. An emergency brake. Anything to prevent this.

Then Leon was outside the bar, the cold wind smacking him in the face. The air cleansed his lungs but not his mind as he turned Chris' words over and over in his head. Before he could fully get a handle on the dread building in his stomach, his thoughts pulled him back to months ago, when Claire had refused to open up to him about your situation. Before he really knew you, when he was sure he'd do more good than harm. I think someone of your… status… would make it worse.

This heaviness, the churn of it in his stomach… Was Claire right? Looking over his shoulder at the closed bar door, dragging his eyes back forward, trying to make sense of his place in this. Trying to ignore the warning flaring inside him.

Climbing into his car, he thought of your face when you talked about Carlos. We do what we do best.

His hands gripped the wheel.

LUNA, please, He thought. He wasn't sure why. He couldn't make sense of why he was already pleading with you.

Everything in him told him they were all heading toward that diverging path. Or maybe it was still the same path, he just hadn't noticed the shadows.

The strings that'd given him purpose all these years were snaking around his neck.

For the first time, his hands were pushing against them. Desperate. For more time, for more understanding, for a way to get all that he didn't know he wanted.

His phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but he knew it was Taylor. Or his next orders. Or another mission. Leon steadied himself. All he could hope for was a chance. Whatever that chance was, he would seize it.

He'd see you soon. He'd hold you close and he'd get to remind himself he was planting his roots, wasn't he?

So why couldn't he shake this dread?

It was the late hours of the morning when you finally dragged yourself away from your desk. You knew working yourself to the bone wasn't the smartest, but as the day had continued on, the more your mind had started racing. Instead of thinking about your priorities, you were stuck on the last time you were here in the office. The last time you wore your headset. The last sound you heard before silence.

Leon had last reached out over an hour ago. You'd read the response, and with a guilty twist of your stomach, you didn't want to bother him with picking you up. He hardly slept, and though it wasn't particularly welcoming, your bus was still running this late. You knew how to time it so that you wouldn't be waiting around in the dark, so as you stepped off the elevator and headed toward the exit, you tightened your coat around you and braced yourself for the cold.

How long have you been here by now? Months.

Months and… hardly any progress made.

With your hands on the door, you closed your eyes for a moment, body heavy, neck stiff, before you pushed out into the cold.

You came to a stop.

Your eyes found the familiar car parked closest to the entrance. You couldn't see his face, but he was there. Leon.

The drained weight of your bones slipped away as you briskly walked over to the car, seeing his head bowed and his arms crossed over his chest. You rapped your knuckles lightly on the window and he raised his head.

Shifting in his seat, you took a step back as he pushed open the door and stepped out.

"What are you doing here?" You weren't sure what you expected your voice to sound like: Surprise, Irritation. It just came out tired.

Studying his face, your heart cracked at the sight of his own shadows beneath his eyes, the eyes in question shaking off his previous doze. Wisps of breath appeared from his mouth as his gaze danced away. "I knew when you stopped answering that you'd overthink it. I told you I'd pick you up."

You shook your head. His words made you clench your jaw but you couldn't find it in you to argue since he was right. You looked away, and the weight of the day snuck back in. It was your first day back and it was as if you'd spent a whole month's worth of time packed into the hours.

"Come on. Let's get you home." He tilted his head to the car before circling the front of it and leading you to the passenger. You studied him as you shuffled around him to sit inside- as usual, he was scanning the area before his gaze snapped to yours. There was something lingering there- a frown maybe- before it settled and he motioned for you to get in.

The heater pressed gently into your skin and you closed your eyes as you held your chilled fingers to the vent.

With his door pulled closed, the two of you locked into a warm and quiet space.

You thought of how, a couple of hours from now, you'd have to rinse and repeat.

Leon turned the radio on before he pulled out of the parking lot.

Without him knowing- or showing that he noticed- you watched him drive. Like outside of the car, he was on alert. His gaze flickered from mirror to mirror constantly, both hands on the wheel with one typically resting lower. You weren't an expert on him, not even close, but you'd like to think this last weekend had opened some kind of doorway for the two of you.

A little later, he was still quiet as he walked you to your door. Even when you unlocked it and lingered, back to him wondering if you should invite him in, he didn't say a word. Maybe he'd had a long day too- hell, most of his days were probably long. Leon did this thing when he wanted to say something but didn't know how. His hand would twitch, his lips would slightly open, and he was unable to look away.

This morning, he'd even done it.

Now, when you turned toward him, his head was faced away. Mind elsewhere. Thoughts on lockdown. You suppressed a sigh. It's not like you were an open book, either.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

When he looked at you, was it your imagination? It was as if he was acting… a little cold. That couldn't be, right? He had fallen asleep waiting for you in a damn parking lot, for crying out loud. Why, then, did you feel a gap?

Your hand slowly reached out toward his but then he was stepping back, eyes already back toward the car. Away from you. Your fingers curled up into a fist just as he turned to look at you.

You nodded before abruptly turning toward the door and pulling it open.

The living room light was on. It was quiet inside. When you turned to look back you expected him to already be gone, so you were mildly surprised to see him still standing there. The lights outside casted shadow over his shoulders and his silence was heavier than his stare.

The day you'd had was already more than enough weight, and you'd drive yourself wild if you sat here trying to decipher him. Ignoring the pang in your chest, you pulled the door closer to your side and said, "Goodnight, Leon."

"Goodnight."

When you closed the door, you held the handle and breathed deep, the energy that forced your body to keep moving seeping away from you with each exhalation.

As you paused outside the guest room, a text came in from Claire letting you know she was staying the night at Chris'. You ignored the sound of your footsteps, of the way your breaths shortened at the reality of being alone in your apartment for the first time in a while. You avoided looking at your bulletin board. You changed into pajamas then went back to the living room. You turned on the TV, not listening to a word as you curled up on the couch. There was an endless list of fears and worries to keep you up. Yet, you dozed off.

It couldn't have been long before you heard a knock at your door.

You sat up fast, unable to look away from the door. Pinned to the spot, you focused on steadying your rapidly increasing breathing before you heard, "It's me."

Then you were pulling open the door to Leon on the other side.

His hair was ruffled, as if he'd just ran his hands through it.

His mouth parted. His fingers twitched. You moved to the side, inviting him in.

As he drank in your apartment, you closed and locked the door, noting how your heart began to calm as his presence sunk in.

"Coffee?" You asked. You didn't know what to say as you moved to walk past him toward the kitchen. His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You didn't look at him. Maybe it worried you that it wasn't as easy to read him as you thought. And maybe it worried you that it would take one look from him to undo you.

His thumb rubbed gently at your wrist as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

You looked up and it was your Leon. His eyes, a dark and thunderous ocean, surveying you with the gentleness only he possessed. He would never fully let you in. But you didn't mind. Seeing him in your dimmed living room like this, fingers on your skin and eyes dark with remorse, you didn't understand. You should care, but.

But.

Leon made it so easy to find an oasis.

You never had to look for one. It was wherever he was.

He stepped closer and you closed your eyes, aching for his lips to be on you- before you felt a pressure on your shoulder. You opened your eyes. His forehead rested on your shoulder and the gentle weight of him was a reality check.

Today was rough.

The only moments that weren't rough were with him.

It was okay that both of them were true.

Your eyes stung as the air escaped you and then you were clinging onto him . His arms settled around you, loose at first before he gripped you tight.

When you pulled away, your hand found his cheek and you watched the longing as he tried to tamper it out. His eyebrows, pulled together. His eyes pressed closed. When he opened them, you wondered if you imagined that flicker of remorse still lingering.

You said his name, strong and searching.

It was his turn to lose the tension of his body as his hand reached up and pulled your hand down, kissing the palm. With his free hand, he gripped your chin and uttered, "I'm trying to behave."

"You don't have to."

He nodded as if he understood, but his words were, "I do." Then he was kissing you, mouth moving over yours as your head swam and your hands held onto him for dear life. You slipped away to the feel of his mouth on yours, down your neck, across your jaw, back on your lips as his hands pressed into you.

When your nails scratched at his scalp and the groan rose in his throat, he pulled away, pupils dilated and breaths fast as he gripped your waist. "I should go."

"Should?"

He nodded. The questions in you settled as you recognized him. Just like he recognized you. It was your turn to raise his hand to your cheek and press a kiss in his palm. "You shouldn't. I don't want you to. Do you?"

"I-" He cut himself off. Collected himself. Your heart began to retreat just as his face cleared and he said, "It's a date, then."

A laugh bubbled out of you. Sudden, misplaced. "A date? This late?"

He stepped away and for a split second your heart jumped in panic but he was only pulling off his jacket as he turned toward the kitchen. "Let me cook you something."

"Leon…"

He tilted his head to get you to look at him. "No?"

"Okay." The slightest flicker on his lips. He was pleased. "But I'll help."

You don't think he realized he had this soft and tired smile on his lips as he said, "Okay," and held out a hand.

Notes:

Thank you for your patience as I've taken time here and there between some chapter releases.
The time between this one and the last was actually because I was gathering my thoughts.

Though I'm sad, I'm more excited than anything and I think even though it's natural to be sad, I won't let it shadow the remainder of this experience. With that being said, if you haven't noticed it yet by this point, I'm approximating there to be about 55 chapters of Fell By The Wayside. With my outlining and how I've worked ahead, it looks like that will likely be it. Which means the end is sooner rather than later.

I debated if I should mention it or if I should wait a little while, but I think I also want to express my gratitude to all of you who have been here from the beginning, who have joined along the way, and who are silently going along for the ride and what better way to do that than to let you know exciting details like a prediction of when it'll all wrap up?

There aren't words to describe how special this entire project has been, and you are all very dear to me. There is still quite a ways until chapter 55, so let's enjoy ourselves 3

If you have any questions, please let me know! I'm beyond excited for you all to experience the remainder of this (:

- august

Chapter 43: two worlds apart (xliii)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Your skin was warm soaking in the sun, the soothing lake beneath the small boat gently rocking you. Goosebumps broke out at Leon's warm hands slid up your arms over your bare shoulders, the sides of your neck.

You tilted your head back with a pleased sigh before he was gripping your neck and dunking your head into the water, the last sound being your startled gasp as you frantically looked for a way to breathe.

Lungs aching, you stopped struggling as you noticed a blurry figure slowly drifting upward toward you.

Carlos.

His strokes were slow as he ascended, dark gaze on you.

Save me. Carlos, save me!

Could he read your mind? You couldn't breathe, you needed him. Please hurry, why was he swimming so slow?

His lips moved but you couldn't hear him.

You frowned and realized there wasn't a pressure on your neck anymore. Sitting up from the water, you breathed in and looked around, noticing you were alone. You could breathe again. But Carlos! Stumbling to the edge of the boat, you dunked your hands into the water and shouted, "Hurry! Grab my hand!"

Shoulder deep, you looked up and saw him watching you out of arm's reach, his eyes the only sight visible above the water.

"Carlos? Stop messing around. I'm serious." He didn't say anything, but his eyes gleamed accusatory.

"You're scaring me."

His mouth finally surfaced and you reeled back at the hatred lighting his scowl. "Me? Messing around? You're the one messing around."

You were angry now. "Stop it."

"You never want to hear it. Always a stubborn brat."

"Why are you doing this?"

"What? You're the one being weak. You don't care, do you?"

"You're being mean. Leave me alone-" The boat tipped back and you flailed, falling into the dark depths. You couldn't find the surface, you couldn't breathe. Where was he? Why was he doing this-

An iron grip clasped your shoulders, pressing you down. You made out Carlos' face and tried to speak, but water rushed in.

He spoke then.

"I'm dead. So are you."

You cried out as your eyes flew open. Your breaths came hard and fast as you rapidly looked around the room, trying to remember where you were. Recognizing your room in the early morning light, you let your head fall back as you kicked off the heavy duvet, feeling the weight of the water slipping away and Carlos' eyes-

I'm dead. So are you.

You choked back a sob, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes as you tried to rein it all back in. It was just a nightmare. Nothing else.

A terrible nightmare that also brought you comfort, hearing your brother's voice. A terribly bitter concoction

You hadn't heard his voice in so long. He was so real.

You just wanted him here.

As your sobs settled, your ears picked up on the shower running.

Leon.

Sitting up, you bowed your head and listened to the stream of the water through the walls. Even so close, even bringing you a security and happiness you'd never even let yourself dream about, he still couldn't chase your fears away.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

As you headed for the hallway, you heard a low voice and realized Leon was talking past the water stream. It sounded like he was on the phone, so you continued onto the kitchen.

You were part way through making breakfast when your nose was flooded with the scent of your own body wash before he pressed into you from behind. "Morning."

You managed a smile, "Good morning," and turned to see him shrugging on his jacket. "Heading out already?"

"I have to stop by my place before work. I'm so sorry that I can't-"

"Nonsense. We have very different jobs and schedules. Do you have a second, though?" You pointed at the pan with your spatula. "I want to pack you some."

He leaned back into the counter. "I can manage that."

You continued in silence. Your nightmare had lost its edge, only leaving tired bones and heavy limbs. Leon prepared your coffee nearby, taking a sip to make sure it was just right. The sight of it split your heart. You could presume he was on a tight schedule, yet he was still waiting for you to do this for him and he was still checking to make sure it was right.

A minute or so later, you slipped the tupperware top in place and held it out to him as he finished pocketing his wallet and keys. He glanced down at the tupperware before raising back to your face.

You adjusted your weight from one foot to another. "What?"

He shook his head, "Nothing. You're just… you're a sight. That's all."

Ignoring how your heart jumped, you asked, "That a good or bad thing?"

In response, he reached past the tupperware to hook an arm around your back and pull you in. Your eyes slid closed, mouth slightly parting as the ghost of his lips caressed yours. He muttered, "This is how mornings should always be."

You softened, eyes opening to the sight of his closed ones. You closed them as he pressed a lingering kiss to your mouth before leaning back and studying you. "Thank you. I'll eat it on the way."

"The least I could do."

You watched him open the door and pause, leaning back halfway in to look at you. "Lock this behind me."

"I will."

"Be careful on your way to work."

"I will," You repeated.

"And-"

"Leon."

He looked at you then, surprised at the sight of your smile. His shoulders relaxed. It was his turn to say, "I know."

"See you later, then?" You came to the door, ignoring the cold bite of the outdoor air.

He nodded, drinking you in as you leaned in and stole another quick kiss. When you pulled back this time, you watched as his eyes flared with something and his lips parted- only for him to press them closed.

His raw expression was an instant puzzle you knew the answer too, reflective of your own realization as you looked at him. A wave of joy brushed over you before crashing into a warning tide.

You kept your face neutral as he looked off to the side, taking a second too long to collect himself. When he looked at you, he was back. But you'd seen it. "See you later."

Nodding, you watched him leave, his brisk pace and his shoulders and his usual determination.

He'd had the words on his lips and didn't say them.

You supposed you did too.

Why, then, did his hesitation feel different than yours?

Shaking your head, you closed and locked the door. Get a hold of yourself. You're overthinking it.

It wasn't like either of you had any sort of moment to catch your breath, let alone make sense of what this was.

Your fingers traced your lips, heart racing thinking of that look on his face… before tripping to a stop as your nightmare flooded your head. Carlos' scowl. You're the one messing around.

Suddenly you weren't in the mood to think about your feelings, anymore.

Tuning it all out, you put the radio on and gathered your things to get ready for work.

You were pulling on your shoes when you heard keys in the door.

Straightening, you walked over and glanced through the peephole before finishing unlocking for her and joking, "I was beginning to wonder if I imagined you were staying with me." Expecting a glare or a snappy reply, your stomach dropped at the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

It was distracted, at first. Eyes distant, mind working through the words. It was a surprise that had melted into that, then into what it was now. A fear. When she stared up at you, you knew the fear was for you. She was afraid to tell you something.

"What?" Your tone was urgent and she bought herself time as she moved inside. You closed the door behind her. Coming around to face her, she studied the room. She looked like she hadn't slept, and you recognized her own dread in her face. "Tell me. Now."

"You know I stayed at Chris', right?" Her voice was quiet and with the slightest control you had, you didn't ask her to speak louder. All you could hear was her voice and your heartbeat. "He came home late and left early, but I had nowhere to be so I was up working already. And… a package showed up. I got a bad feeling and… I don't know, I didn't want my stupid ass brother getting blown up or something so after I got it checked out by a friend, I opened it-" Her lack of breaths made her pause, gasping. Her hand kept going to her hoodie pocket and you willed yourself not to reach into it and snatch whatever was there, "It was from Jill."

You reeled back at the words before settling. Why was she acting like this? What happened? Blood drained from your face then. Carlos. "What was in it?"

"Evidence and instructions. She's left no room to be denied support, which is why I suspect she sent it to Chris specifically."

"Okay…" You tried soaking that in, but there was something else. Suddenly, so sharp you couldn't take full breaths, you were afraid.

Claire ran a hand through her messy ponytail before her hand went into her pocket. "There was something else in the box. I debated leaving it in there for Chris to find but I had this feeling…" Claire shook her head, "Doesn't matter. It's addressed to you."

She held out an envelope.

You recognized the handwriting. It had been years since you've seen it, so your body jumped before your mind did. Your hand moved, grabbed onto the paper, held it in your hand. The sender's name was unfamiliar. The handwriting wasn't.

Claire said something.

You traced the curves of the words.

You heard your name and then you registered it, head whipping up to gape at Claire. "It's… it's his handwriting. It's Carlos."

Her own expression mirrored yours.

Then you were ripping open the envelope, a wince lighting your face as you noticed how messy the tear looked. Why did that matter? Why- You froze, the dark ink noticeable on the folded up sheet of paper inside.

It was in your hand.

Folded up sheets of notebook paper.

You heard a startled laugh and realized it was yours.

Unfolding the paper, your eyes landed on the first word.

It was your name.

You laughed again- why were you laughing - before the weights pressed in and you were being pulled in.

LUNA,

Today I'm doing what must be done. Whatever that costs me, I'm prepared for that. I have been for the last five years. I don't have many regrets, but the ones I do all involve you.

It's taken me days, and if I'm being honest, it's taken me all these years to even try to figure out the words to say to you. They'll never be right, they will never be enough. I've written versions where I'm cracking jokes, and it makes me laugh picturing your pissed off face. Worse, I've pictured you crying. today, this last day before I go out and do what must be done, I've decided however this is written, it'll be the one.

I know I've never been the wise and knows what to say person. Hell, you've been more of a wise soul than I ever have. But I owe you this. More than this. I know that.

I wonder how it could've been if I had managed to see you before I left. I figure it would've been you chewing me out, maybe I get pissed and say things I also don't mean. I'll never know now, but I didn't try because I was afraid. You hate it when I say I know you, but it's true. Which is why I know if I saw you, you would've come with me.

The last thing I want is for you to give up your life, your dreams for me. Growing up, you reminded me so much of myself sometimes, it scared me. Seeing you in college, seeing you struggling, it killed me and I should've given you a pep talk. I should've been a shoulder to lean on. Instead, I planted doubt in you and I'll always regret that.

You can be whatever you want to be.

We already live in a world that says you can't.

I've blinked and these years have flown by. I still can't believe it's been this long since I've seen you. What if you're married? You've graduated by now. I missed it. I missed it all.

Whatever you do, if Jill gets this to you…

Do not come after me.

You hear me?

This was always bigger than me, I know that now. All the choices I've made, the decisions that led me here, I don't regret. I'm going to make it right.

I can do that with a clear head knowing you're safe. Knowing you're living your life. Knowing that I did one thing right, and that was keeping you safe.

So stay away.

I don't know what my future is. I don't know shit about fate. What I do know is you deserve one of happiness.

Either I'll be the one to send this someday, or Jill will.

Time will tell.

For today, I'm at peace knowing you're there.

Yeah…

Keep it that way.

By the time you get this, I won't be here anymore.

Maybe we'll reunite someday.

What's best for now is for you to consider me dead. If that's not already what you've been thinking all these years, I want you to think it now.

And live.

Carlos

On your own, your eyes moved off the paper. At some point, you had sunk into the couch. Claire was in front of you. The room was cold even with the heater blasting. She carefully said your name and you looked up, unseeing.

She held out her hand and you gave it to her.

She read.

When she looked up again, you were trembling.

"I don't know what I-" You bit down on your lip, ripping the skin. A laugh careened out of you as you climbed to your feet. "Live my life, huh? Graduate, accomplish all my fucking goals and dreams, get married, settle down, erase him. That's what my life was like to him all these years, huh? Fuck that." You turned and kicked the nearest end table, sending it teetering before falling over onto the living room carpet. "'I'm wiser than he is' yet only a selfish know it all would convince himself he knew what was best for me. All this time, and he still thinks he knows better. Consider him dead…" You laughed and it came out choked. You were drowning. You were looking for any beacon, for any foothold, but only sunk further, "What a fucking joke."

Claire was shaking her head, opening and closing her mouth. Like she was drowning, too.

"Live, huh?" You shook your head. You could hear his voice, you could see him in your dorm room. In your apartment growing up. In some unknown place all alone. "All this time, and he still doesn't know how to be straight up with me."

"There's something else you should know." With fast breaths, you turned to look at her. There was the slightest wince in her face. She said, "I had this feeling, and it's fucked up, but I wanted to see if Chris would tell me about the package. Hell, we're all involved in this too deep. He got home last night and he must've seen the package. He locked himself up in his room and… and he didn't tell me. He didn't tell me that he'd gotten information from Jill. Not only that, I heard him talking to Leon on the phone this morning. He left to meet up with him, and that's when I headed here."

Shaking your head, you tried to swallow past all of the knots as you said, "And?"

"And… all signs are pointing to them leaving us out of this."

Immediately you shook your head. "But you took this letter. I'm sure he would've-"

"I know him," Claire didn't look away and the anger rose in you. "Letter or not, he wouldn't have told us. They want to spout some protective bullshit when you have every right to get involved. Jill had this letter in here because like it or not, Carlos is mixed into all of this. So what are we going to do?"

You opened your mouth, your mind telling you to defend them. Defend Leon. But he was meeting with Chris… and he hadn't told you. A sharp stab struck through your heart thinking of this morning. He lied.

He and Chris were likely trying to butt in since that night they showed up uninvited to the dinner. You couldn't be mad, not really, considering the two of you had attempted to do the same to them, but you couldn't help the sting. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself as you thought out loud, "We'll let them handle whatever shady shit is going on behind the scenes. Me? I…" You stared at Carlos' words. You stared at the name Julio Mendoza. You stared at the confirmation he was out there. "I need to find him. I need to go."

"We won't be able to find Jill, not by ourselves. The only person who might be able to find her is…" Claire sighed, "What do you think?"

You looked at her. It was all the answer she needed.

"Well, let's get answers then."

You nodded.

Your phone rang then and you dug it out of your bag. It was Hunnigan.

Claire was still talking. "Are you… okay with this? With him?" She meant Leon. Confronting Chris meant confronting Leon. It couldn't possibly go bad, could it? Everyone wanted the same thing… right?

"We do what we have to. He's out there, closer than I've ever realized. I…" If you didn't move, if you didn't do something, you were going to shatter. You walked toward the door. With your hand on the handle, you said, "I'm going to get him back. I'll do whatever it takes. That's what living is to me."

Notes:

oh, carlos...

Chapter 44: burn in my bloodstream (xliv)

Notes:

fun fact: burn in my bloodstream was heavily considered for the title of this fic! now i can't imagine it being the title. fell by the wayside just fits. however, i DID make note that if i can somehow make it work as a chapter title sometime, i would. here we are 😬

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Leon's tired.

It's a different kind, one soaked so deep he can't shake it off even when he manages to sneak a moment of quiet. That morning, he had laid in your bed and made sure you stayed covered. You had curled up next to him throughout the night, and had made yourself nearly invisible in a bed that was yours. He wanted to reach out and hold you more than once, but he worried he'd cling to you and struggle to find his strength to leave.

This vulnerability was unknown to him, and he had just started to pick it apart in the shower when Chris was calling him before the sun had even risen. All he said when he picked up was, "Robin Park. An hour."

Leon had glanced in the fogged mirror, saw his blurred figure. He had turned his back, leaning into the counter. Ignoring the bite of the chilled counter, he said, "I've been called in, actually. Not exactly something I can bail on-"

"I don't give a shit. I have an update on the birthday gift." He hadn't expected a refusal from Chris.

He'd paused. Jill's package. "You've picked it out?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"A lot."

He had pictured crawling back into bed, pressing kisses into you as you woke. He had imagined what it would be like to let go of every concern that bubbled up inside of him. He'd gotten so comfortable without thinking of a future and now that the possibility of one was here, it was fumbling around in his hands, slipping through his fingers. He had held in a sigh before saying, "I'll see you in an hour."

Leon was a piece of classified paper ripped down the middle. Mind already on his meeting with Chris, on Jill's package, on what came next. Puzzling out what was the best course for everyone, even when it never worked that way.

The other half was yours.

Preparing your coffee, existing in your kitchen with you, he wasn't sure how to slow everything down. His conversation with Chris had loomed above and over him. It was always like this, always a subtle shift before the plummet. For the first time in ages, he dreaded his work. He had shaken it off, focusing on the end goal. They would get answers, and you would be okay.

When you had held out the breakfast you packed him, his thoughts had slowed down as he observed you. Since he'd gotten to know you, you had been able to quiet something in him, to spread a warmth he wasn't sure he'd ever felt.

You'd adjusted your weight from one foot to another, boldly meeting his obvious staring."What?"

"Nothing. You're just… you're a sight. That's all." He could have stayed like that all day.

You had asked, "That a good or bad thing?"

He had reached out and wrapped his arm around you to pull you in. A wave of adoration slammed into him as his eyes slid closed, lips brushing yours. The words had slipped from him, heart tight with longing. "This is how mornings should always be."

Pressing a kiss to your lips, Leon had leaned back to take one last look at you before grabbing the tupperware. "Thank you. I'll eat it on the way."

"The least I could do."

When he leaned halfway back in from outside, he had said, "Lock this behind me."

You had stood there, watching him go. He had wished he could stay. "I will."

"Be careful on your way to work."

"I will," You repeated, eyes bright. Energy seemed to have found you. Good. That was good. If he let himself think, he'd only give into his longing. So he had kept himself talking, mind picking up its usual speed.

"And-"

"Leon."

He had stopped, surprised at the sight of your smile. It quieted him. Comforted him. "I know."

"See you later, then?" You had followed him to the door as he turned to face you.

He nodded and bit back a sigh as you stole another quick kiss. At the moment you pulled away, every time before this where you had looked at him- including this one- came down on him. He had thought of when he first noticed you in the office, when you had your first dinner, when you leaned into him in the rain. When you took care of him after he got hurt. It was like sliding into an ice bath, recognizing with a rush the love on his lips- We do what we do best. A different kind of cold found him thinking of Chris waiting for him at Robin Park.

Leon had to look away. It was longer than it should've been pulling himself together. When he was sure it wouldn't show on his face- or worse, that he'd say it anyway- he had looked at you again and ignored the twist of his heart. "See you later."

Every step had carried a ton, begging for him to turn back around and go to you.

He'd ignored it. He'd ignored it all.

The faint electricity in the air before a thunderstorm was the equivalent of Chris' presence on a bench in Robin Park. As Leon cut through a wide field of grass to reach him, he watched Chris before coming in earshot and hearing him say, "Took you long enough. I said an hour."

"I can't imagine your impatience blowing over well in our line of work."

"They don't put me to work because I'm nice." Chris finally turned his head, leaning his arm across the back of the bench and staring ahead as Leon took his place beside him.

"Well?"

"A sample. Hard evidence. And instructions. Jill sent it all, leaving no room for doubt. Everything needed for you to bring to the DSO. And to bring the support she needs."

"Sample of what?"

"I didn't exactly crack it open to find out. A lab in Bolivia was uncovered as a testing site for an unidentified virus. An extraction mission gone wrong. Lab was abandoned and nothing left behind. But Jill found one," Leon side eyed Chris as his voice dipped, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he uttered, "Of course she did."

"I can make sure it's greenlit," Leon threw out there, mind elsewhere. Bolivia had caught his ear but the thought fled him before he could work it out. Looking back at Chris, he said, "Nothing on him, then?"

"If there is, she didn't mention it," Chris muttered. The both of them stared out at the vast park, kids screeching and playing tag in the distance. "Maybe he wasn't involved."

"Isn't that why she went out there in the first place?"

"And stumbled across a whole infestation instead of a bad root."

Leon whipped his head toward him. "Bad root?"

"He was Umbrella at one point."

"And? What, you think Jill would help someone if they were still an active Umbrella member?" Leon wasn't sure why he was defending Carlos. Well, he knew why, but somehow he knew his control in all of this was slipping from him.

Chris leveled him with a stare he didn't like. It echoed the looks of Taylor. Of his supervisor. Of every person who used him. "Like I said, we do what we must."

"You keep saying that. We're trusting Jill, and we're doing our job, but-"

"But what? Is this about LUNA? Are you worried we're going to run into Oliveira out there and have to put him down?"

Leon's tone was careful. "We know nothing. Yet-"

"Yet what?"

"We can't deny the glaring possibility that this may be directly connected to him."

Chris pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Flicking his lighter closed, he reached up and pulled the cigarette from his lips, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Helping Jill is what matters. You know that. But it's also fucking Umbrella. So whatever the case may be, that's my priority."

It should've been enough. Usually it would be. Leon recalled your face when you talked about Carlos, about all these years for you with no answers. It wasn't enough. Chris wasn't addressing it, which meant there's more possibility of things going wrong.

He silently vowed to do whatever he could. For you, for Jill, and for Carlos.

"Where's the package?"

It hit you when you were at your desk, jacket pulled off and case pulled up in front of you. You were reviewing Agent James' surprisingly thorough notes, reviewing the life expectancy after exposure to a particular poison the team was researching when you paused on one word James had scribbled down. In his neat and curvy writing, you didn't continue reading past the word Live.

Raising your eyes, you stared off in thought as you recalled Carlos' own words. The air knocked out of you. And live.

You stumbled to your feet as your mind kickstarted, the photo of Carlos springing to your head. LIVE. LET GO. OR LOSE.

You didn't want to draw attention, you didn't want anyone talking to you. But all you could see was his photo, and you could hear his voice in your head reciting his letter to you.

All you could think about was whoever had broken into your apartment, leaving you that message. Following you around.

So you grabbed your belongings, headed down the hall and toward the elevators. Someone stepped out of the break room just as you rushed past, their voice reaching your ears, "Have I set a new world record, having you running for the hills this quickly?"

You ignored him, but then he kept pace with you as you came to the elevator and hit the button. "Not now, James."

"If this is about what I said about Archer-" Your look silenced him, and if you weren't so focused on getting out of here, you would've spent more time on the attempt to bridge the distance between the two of you. You didn't care, and with a startled twist of your stomach, you realized maybe you had spent too much time caring.

You said, "I think we're in agreement on the minimum amount of contact between us. In the field. And out. Okay?" The elevator was approaching.

"I may have… let my… usual… bad habits get the better of me. I'm aware that having a partner has its benefits."

"Really?" Your tone was emotionless.

He nodded. "And-"

The doors opened just as you snapped, "Listen-" Both your gazes flicked to the side to find Leon in the elevator. You ignored his questioning gaze as you climbed on, stomach churning when he didn't step off.

You clicked the ground floor then held the close doors button, glancing at Agent James' pursed lips. You caught a glimpse of Agent James heading down the hall before too much time passed and you had to meet Leon's eyes.

His words were immediate. "What was that about?" You were light-headed. Since the letter, you were still looking for a foothold and… you couldn't find one. Now, you were only thinking about that photo, of Leon lying to you, and here he was asking you. "Hey, come on. Let's get some air." You wanted to scream when he leaned forward and hit the second floor button, cutting off your attempt to get out of here.

"I can't."

Leon tilted his head. "Why not?"

You didn't know what to say. A dangerous heat was rising up within you, an urge to scream at everyone. To lash out kicking and screaming. To demand your brother back. You just needed to find him. You needed to go, now.

When you reeled to face him, to pour your truth out to him, the fire died on your tongue as you looked into his forgiving, ocean gaze. He couldn't possibly know what you know, what you were thinking, why you were imploding from the inside.

"Okay," You whispered, and the fire wasn't gone but it was stoked.

The courtyard was as gray and lonely as you remembered it. You sat atop the dusty table, just like Leon had the time you had peeked out at him with Hunnigan. So much time has passed since then. In comparison to how long Carlos has been gone, however…

You pulled your jacket on and tugged it around you, squinting among the leafless trees. The knots in your stomach wouldn't go away. Leon took his place beside you, his leg pressing into yours as you forced yourself to focus on anything but him. Your hands. They were cold. As you rubbed them together, blowing into them, he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

A scoff almost broke from you. You barely stifled it, only pausing to glance at him before focusing on warming your hands again. He still thinks this was about Agent James. Does he think you're an idiot? Does he truly believe you and Claire would go on unaware, that neither of you would discover he and Chris were trying to keep this hidden? Jill had originally opened up to you, for fuck's sake.

"No." Was the only strangled response you could give. With every second, the fire was returning and even glancing at him wasn't softening the anger. You were so mad. The two of you had danced around this the entirety of knowing each other, and maybe you weren't qualified like him or Chris. Maybe you didn't have the connections, or the specialized training, or the experience. This was your fucking brother. This was your brother and all of these agents, including Jill, had decided to ice you out-

"LUNA." You tensed when his hand found your shoulder and he immediately pulled it away. You stared ahead, not bothering to look at him.

If you hadn't gotten the letter, maybe you would've taken the time to talk this out. Maybe you would've opened up to him. But he hadn't met you halfway either. You weren't going to hint at him that you knew. With Carlos' words in your head, you could hardly care about anything else let alone think.

"You've got a lot on your mind. I get that. I…" Leon blew out a breath after he trailed off, and the next time you glanced at him, the look on his face made all of your jumbled thoughts pause. He was leaning forward now, resting his elbows on his thighs as he failed to suppress the frown on his face. There was a time you couldn't decipher even the slightest change in his voice. Now, you knew he was struggling. He had a lot on his mind, too. Maybe the same thing you were thinking about. You held his gaze when he looked over his shoulder at you, "I just want you to be safe."

You broke eye contact, inhaling a deep breath as you looked off to the side. Your voice came out tired. "I don't know if there's such a thing in this world."

"There is. Sometimes."

"I don't know if I've ever found it." That was a lie. You pulled your hand away to realize you had brought it to your lips. That wasn't true. You had found it. When you were kids, when your grandma had raised you and Carlos. When she was gone, and Carlos took over even though he was a kid himself. With Claire. With Leon.

You squeezed your eyes closed.

At the same time, you clenched your fists. You resisted the urge to relax into Leon, to grab onto him and hope the desperation somehow got through to him. That all four of you decided to hash it out, work together as a team. Before you opened your eyes, you knew it wouldn't be reality.

His hand was reaching out to your fist. He gripped your enclosed fist for a moment before pulling it apart and holding your palm up. "I want you to have this." His voice had come out strangled, and he cleared his throat as he pressed his sheathed knife into your hand. Closing your hand around it, he squeezed yours again before he pulled away. "Maybe it's more for my peace of mind than yours. Just protect yourself, okay?"

You nodded, and then his hand was on the side of your head and he was leaning close to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered there and you let your eyes fall closed as his scent washed over you.

When he pulled away, the both of you studied each other.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe one of you would say something.

Then Carlos' letter started burning in your pocket, the photo of him in his uniform was taking over your thoughts. You could hear his voice. You could tell you were almost there, you just needed to take the jump.

It was only for a moment that the silence bloomed between you. A silence that widened into a divide. A divide as you turned your back and stepped down from the bench. "I've got to go."

"Okay." He nodded, but you were already picturing going home and retrieving the photo. "I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, I'll see you later."

Then you were in the parking lot dialing Claire.

She picked up on the second ring."Everything alright?"

"They won't tell us. I know it now."

She didn't argue. You knew she wouldn't. She loved her brother but she knew him just like you knew yours. "Chris isn't Jill's only friend. I'll come over later, okay?"

"Okay."