Day 45

Rose groaned as she woke up. Her entire body hurt. The light was bright, and she could smell the bleach and sick of a hospital. She tried to move her arm up to cover her eyes, but she was stopped by the handcuff that restrained one arm to the bedrail. She could tell she was in a hospital, and her entire body hurt. How long had they kept tasing her after she'd passed out? She wasn't hooked to any machines, so that was good. She settled back into the starched pillow, closing her eyes and relaxing.

I'm in a hospital. I was unconscious.

Rose's eyes snapped open again and she startled herself enough that the handcuff snapped. Though the tiny puncture wounds were already healed over with fresh skin, it was still pink and sore from where the needles had poked through.

"Hey, calm down," she heard to her left. Leon was in the plastic chair, leaning forward. How long had he been there?

His voice had pulled her out of the haze, and for a moment, she didn't know whether she was dreaming or not. The blurry edges of her vision began to sharpen as she took in his disheveled appearance—his hair unkempt, his face drawn, bruised, and fatigued. His eyes, dark with exhaustion, were trained on her now, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. And there was a splint on his right hand. Her eyes zeroed in on the injury and he noticed, chuckling. "It's just sprained. Ronald's sporting a broken cheekbone, though. Narrowly missed spending a night in jail myself."

Rose dropped her eyes back to her lap. She'd been so stupid. She shouldn't have fought back that hard. Now, not only was she doomed to stay locked up, she had dragged Leon down with her. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of when she left in Spain.

I should have never come back.

Everything felt suffocating, the sterile smell of the hospital room mixing with the staleness of her own skin. The pain in her body was a constant, dull throb, a reminder of the abuse she'd endured—the tasers, the needles, the violence. And now, here she was again. Trapped. Helpless.

But the guilt, the way it squeezed around her chest, was unbearable. Leon...

He had risked so much for her, put himself in danger just to be there when she woke up, and she had no idea how to make it right. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.

"Don't think like that," Leon's voice cut through the heavy silence, though his words weren't directed at her, not directly. It was as if he could read the storm brewing inside her just from the shift in her expression. "We're not done yet, Rose."

Her head snapped up, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, she was struck by how tired he looked. His face was drawn, the kind of exhaustion that ran deep. The bruise on his cheekbone was fresh, his right hand splinted, and yet, there was something in his eyes—something fierce, a fire she hadn't expected.

"You're not a burden," Leon said, his voice quiet but firm. "You didn't drag me down with you. I'm here because I want to be. You don't get to decide that for me."

Rose opened her mouth to argue, to apologize, but the words caught in her throat. It wasn't that she didn't believe him—it was just that she couldn't accept it. "This is all my fault," she croaked, feeling the traitorous tears sting her eyes. "I shouldn't have come back... You—" She broke off, not wanting to go any further, not wanting to say the words that would make it real. She had been trying to escape this for so long, but it was already too late. She had dragged Leon into her mess, into the nightmare of her bloodline, her legacy of destruction.

Leon's eyes softened, but his jaw was tight with something like restrained anger, as if it was something he wanted to say, something he wanted to shout at her, but instead, he kept it in. His eyes flickered to her handcuffed wrist, and without a word, he stood up and walked toward the bed. He stopped just short of touching her, just standing beside her for a long moment.

"If anyone dragged you into something, it was me, not the other way around." He gave a short, harsh laugh, but there was no humor in it. "And I'm going to make it right."

His hand reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a small, black device. Her cellphone. Rose gaped in surprise at him, hardly believing that Mister by the book was breaking a law. He must have given up. Run into too many dead ends.

There were two cameras on them, so Leon did the only thing he could think of to pass her the phone without anyone seeing it. He half sat on the edge of her bed and kissed her. Though it was a distraction, and Rose could feel him slipping the small device into her hand under the covers, warmth spread through her. It was the first time in over a month that she'd actually felt anything close to warm. She moaned a little too loudly, the touch being something she hadn't realized she'd missed and needed so much.

The kiss was a shock to her system. It was fast, urgent, and far from the sweet moments she'd daydreamed about in the past. But it had a rawness to it—a desperate edge that made her heart beat faster. The heat of it spread like wildfire through her chest, making her feel something—anything—beyond the numbness that had defined her life in the facility.

Rose was disoriented when the kiss broke, the world spinning a little as she tried to focus. She blinked up at Leon, trying to piece together her thoughts. What just happened?

Her chest was rising and falling more quickly than usual, the soft pressure of his lips still lingering on hers. But Leon's expression was intense, almost frantic in its determination, and Rose could feel him slipping something into her palm beneath the covers.

The phone.

Her breath hitched in her throat. He... he just gave me my phone?

"Call someone," Leon whispered, his voice low and urgent. "Anyone you trust. Don't waste any time."

Rose could hardly think. Everything about this moment felt surreal like she'd woken up from a nightmare only to realize she was still trapped in it. But that kiss—the unexpected warmth of it, the fierce way he was looking at her now—it was something real. Something that told her, in no uncertain terms, that Leon was in this, all in, even if it meant breaking every rule he'd ever lived by.

She glanced up at him, her heart in her throat. He was serious. Deadly serious. And that sudden jolt of reality hit her like a train. This was her shot.

Her eyes flicked to the two cameras in the corners of the room, her mind whirling. Keep calm. She couldn't risk drawing attention to herself. Slowly, she curled her fingers around the phone, the weight of it in her hand grounding her for a moment. Who did she trust enough to call? Her faith in Blue Umbrella was on the fritz, but she needed to know if Jackson had delivered the inhibitor to Luis. But if she went back there, she'd have to go back to Eugene.

Then, there was Ada. If she even picked up the line, which was usually disconnected, there was a high probability that she wasn't even in the country to help her out. There was an even higher probability that Ada would contact her father.

Wesker likely knew where she was. She was surprised that he hadn't already gone after her. She couldn't explain why it stung a little bit that she wasn't worth his energy to even actively try to kill or bring her back. There had been a brief moment where she'd contemplated asking for his help already, but that meant submitting to him.

What am I going to do?

It would've been easier if he'd been hunting her, if he'd shown any sign of wanting to drag her back into his twisted web. But he hadn't. And that, in a strange way, hurt more than the idea of him wanting to control her again. She was no longer his project, no longer something worth his attention. She was just... a ghost.

But maybe that was exactly what she needed. To be invisible to him. To slip through his fingers.

Her thoughts swirled, each option closing in on her, making the air feel thicker. What if none of this works? What if she couldn't trust anyone?

The answer was simple but terrifying.

She had to trust herself.

Her thumb hovered over the screen. Ada's name. Wesker's. Blue Umbrella's emergency line. It felt like choosing between a series of dead ends, but at least it was her choice to make. A thought settled in her mind, one that she couldn't ignore any longer.

She couldn't keep running from her father. Not when he was the one who could control everything. If there was any hope of getting out of this facility, it wasn't going to be through a faceless organization or a distant contact. It would be through him. Through his resources, his connections. She didn't want to go back to that suffocating web of control, but it was the only way out.

As much as it made her stomach churn to think of submitting to Wesker, she knew the truth: she couldn't afford to play games anymore.

She cleared her throat, her hand trembling as she raked her eyes around the curtained room before landing on Leon. "Can you help me to the bathroom?" She asked, her legs felt shaky and weak, and she could barely trust herself to walk on her own. Leon's face remained impassive as he nodded, be she could tell he was still talking himself into letting her go. Not because he wanted to keep her here, but because he just wanted to keep her. However, she was going to die if she stayed here.

He picked her up bridal style, ignoring how intimidating it was that she'd broken her handcuffs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. He opened the bathroom door and stepped in with her, placing her down on her feet and making sure she was steady before letting go. "Rose...you were right. I should have never asked you to stay. I'm...so fucking sorry."

Rose smiled at him, though it was small and sad. "Don't be. I wanted it to work out just as badly."

He cupped her cheek in his hand and brought his face closer to hers, their foreheads nearly touching. "I'll find you," he swears. "Wherever you go from here. I promise."

She nodded, her entire body reacting to the emotions in his voice as she leaned up and gently pressed her lips to his. This kiss was quicker than the others, neither one wanting to say goodbye. She felt his loss as soon as he pulled away, and with one last lingering look, he walked out of the bathroom and closed the door.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, and with a deep, steadying breath, Rose tapped the contact for Ada Wong. The line rang a few times before an automated message played:

"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

A sick feeling twisted in her stomach. Of course. She moved down the line, finding Ada2 and dialing it.

"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

"God damn it," she cursed. She scrolled through her contacts, her fingers hovering over both Luis and Jackson, though in her phone they were Culebra and Peckerhead respectively. But, she left them be before scrolling all the way down to the W's. She stared at the name for a very long time, not even sure why she had his contact information, or how.

She paused. Her finger hovered. And then, with a deep exhale, she tapped the screen.

The dial tone echoed in her ear, low and steady, but her heart was anything but calm. Every second felt like an eternity as she waited for the voice on the other end. She didn't even know what she was going to say to him, only that she needed to hear his voice, the voice of the one person who could get her out of here.

The line clicked.

"Rosemarie." His voice was smooth, deceptively calm, though she could hear the faintest hint of something else beneath the surface—satisfaction, maybe? He had expected this call. "I was wondering when you would come to me."

Her throat tightened. She had nothing left to lose, but hearing him say her name—her real name—after so long, felt like a thousand chains wrapping around her chest.

"I need your help," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but there was no turning back now. "They've got me. I need out."

A pause on the other end, then Wesker's voice again, quieter this time. "Yes. I know. I never thought you'd come back, Rose. You've always been so stubborn." There was a flicker of something—a shadow of approval, maybe? "You've made your choices. You know what this means. But if you want out, you know where to go."

Her heart sank as she realized what he was saying. There would be no easy way out. There never was.

"I'll do what it takes," she replied, her voice steady, though inside, she was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I'll survive. I'll make him regret ever thinking he could control me again.

Wesker's chuckle was low, almost amused. "Of course, you will. You always do. I'll make arrangements. But remember Rose... you've already made your decision. There's no going back from here."

The line went silent, but she wasn't sure if he had hung up or if the call had ended because she couldn't bring herself to speak again. She simply stared at the screen, the weight of what she had just agreed to sink deep into her bones.

No going back.

The truth of it hit her hard. She was in it for her own survival, even if it meant crawling back into the darkness that had once been her cage.

And this time, she would make damn sure she was the one with the key.