Chapter Text
Ada woke abruptly, her breath catching painfully in her throat as the remnants of the nightmare clung to her mind.
For a few seconds, she stayed frozen, trying to separate dream from reality.
Then she felt Leon beside her.
His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, his face buried against her shoulder, breathing slow and peaceful in sleep.
Ada exhaled shakily.
The sheets tangled loosely around their naked bodies, carrying the lingering warmth of everything they had done only hours ago. They had spent the entire afternoon and evening wrapped around each other, whispering names against skin like prayers, like there would never be another tomorrow waiting for them outside those walls.
She glanced toward the clock on the nightstand.
9:07 PM.
They had completely skipped dinner. A faint smile almost appeared on her lips at the thought.
Carefully, Ada lifted Leon’s arm from around her waist, moving slowly so she wouldn’t wake him. Even in sleep, he instinctively tried to pull her closer, brows furrowing faintly before relaxing again.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly at how peaceful he looked.
She slipped out of bed quietly and grabbed one of Leon’s shirts from the floor and her panty, pulling it over her body before making her way downstairs.
The house was dark except for the faint kitchen light he left on earlier that afternoon. The birthday cake still sat untouched on the table beside empty wine glasses, frozen remnants of a happiness that almost felt too fragile to exist.
Ada opened the fridge and reached for a bottle of water, taking a slow drink while trying to steady the lingering unease from her nightmare.
But even now, with the cool water against her lips and the quiet house around her, she could still feel the ghost of fear sitting heavily in her chest.
As if something terrible was waiting for them beyond this temporary peace.
Ada leaned against the kitchen counter and let out a heavy sigh, pressing the cold bottle of water against her forehead for a moment as she tried to calm the unease crawling beneath her skin.
The nightmare still clung to her. She saw someones die again.
This time, she saw Carla’s death replay in front of her eyes, except it was not her clone lying there lifeless
It was her.
The image had felt so real that waking up did little to erase it. And for the first time in a long while, Ada was terrified of dying because now, she finally had a reason to live.
Her gaze drifted toward the stairs leading back to Leon’s room, and her chest tightened painfully.
She didn’t want to think about what Leon would become if she died.
Would he be miserable without her?
Can he spend years mourning someone he could never truly keep?
Will he eventually move on?
The thought alone made something ugly twist inside her chest.
Was it selfish that she didn’t want him to be happy with someone else?
Ada laughed softly to herself, bitter and exhausted. Of course it was selfish.
But loving Leon had always brought out the most selfish parts of her.
She walked toward the dining table and carefully placed the leftover cake inside the refrigerator again. She always preferred cake cold anyway. Then she grabbed the bottle of wine along with a glass before making her way to the living room.
The house was quiet. Only the dim lamp near the couch lit the room in soft gold.
Ada sat down slowly and poured herself another glass of wine. She needed this.
Needed something to quiet her thoughts before they drowned her completely. The wine burned warmly down her throat, but it did nothing to stop the fear lingering inside her.
Because no matter how peaceful tonight felt, Ada knew better than anyone that happiness like this never lasted long for people like them especially her.
Leon woke up to an empty bed. For one horrible second, panic seized his chest so violently that it stole the remaining sleep from his body.
“Ada?”
No answer.
He immediately sat up, hurriedly pulling on his pajama pants before rushing out of the bedroom. His heart pounded harder with every second of silence filling the house.
Then he saw the faint light coming from the living room. Ada sat curled up on the sofa, one hand loosely holding a wine glass while her head rested against her knees. The bottle beside her was nearly empty.
Leon slowed his steps immediately. Something was wrong.
“Ada,” he called softly.
Her head slowly lifted at the sound of his voice. Her eyes looked distant, tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.
“Did I wake you up?” she asked quietly before setting the wine glass down onto the table.
Leon didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he walked past her toward the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge. When he returned, he held it out to her.
“Drink this,” he said gently. “And stop drinking that.”
Ada stared at the water bottle for a moment before taking it from him silently. Leon sat beside her on the couch, close enough that their shoulders brushed.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
Ada looked away, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the darkened living room.
“If I died, what would you do, Leon?” she murmured.
Leon frowned, caught off guard by the question.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Just answer it.”
He studied her for a moment before sighing.
“I don't think I'd have much reason to keep going,” he admitted quietly. “It would feel like half of me is gone. Like I'm walking around missing a piece of myself.”
Ada's fingers tightened around the bottle in her hands.
“But why?”
Leon blinked “What do you mean, why?”
“Is that really what I mean to you?”
A soft laugh escaped him. It wasn't mocking. It was disbelief. After everything they had been through, she still had no idea.
“Oh, Ada,” he said gently. “You mean so much more than that. You really don't understand.”
“But why?”
His brows knitted together. “Why do you keep asking that?”
She lowered her head. “Because I don't understand it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I can't give you normalcy, Leon. I can't give you a normal relationship. I can't give you a family. Children. A peaceful life.”
Her eyes drifted around the house. “This place looks like the kind of home people build families in. And I can't give you any of that.”
The words struck him harder than any bullet ever had.
Is that how she sees herself?
Not as the woman who occupied every corner of his heart and not as the person he searched for in every mission..
But as a collection of things she believed she lacked.
Leon felt his chest ache because none of that was what he wanted from her.
He moved closer and took her hands in his.
“Ada.”
She looked up.
His smile was small, sad, and impossibly tender.
"You know, for a long time, I thought home was supposed to be a place. Somewhere you could point to on a map. Somewhere you could leave and come back to at the end of the day.
But I don't think I've ever really had that. Not with the life we've lived or with all the places we've been, all the things we've lost, and all the times we had to walk away before we were ready.
And maybe that's why it took me so long to understand it. Because somewhere between all the years, all the goodbyes, and every time we found our way back to each other... you became my home.
It's not a place nor a city. Not even four walls and a roof.
You.
The one person who makes this world feel a little less lonely. The one person I look for without even thinking about it. The one person I've never really been able to leave behind, no matter how many times I tried.
So if you're asking me what home means..." Leon's voice softened as he looked at her. "It means you."
The room fell silent. Ada stared at him, her eyes glistening.
For years she had run from feelings she couldn't name, she had convinced herself that people like her weren't meant to be loved this deeply.
Yet here he was. Looking at her as though she was the easiest choice he had ever made.
“I love you,” Leon whispered.
The words settled softly between them.
Ada's lips trembled an then she smiled.
A real smile. One so rare that Leon felt his heart stop.
“I love you too.”
He simply stared at her. Shocked. Not because he didn't know. He had known for years.
He saw it in every sacrifice, every glance, every time she came back to him when she could have walked away but hearing the words was different. Hearing them felt like standing in sunlight after years of surviving winter.
“You said it,” he whispered.
Ada rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. “Don't make it weird.”
Leon laughed softly. “I waited years to hear that.”
Then, before she could respond, he stood abruptly and goes straight to his bedroom.
“Wait here.”
Leon thinks if he stopped now, he might lose his nerve. The moment he stepped into the bedroom, he crossed straight to the dresser.
His heart was pounding so hard it was almost embarrassing. A laugh escaped him under his breath.
He had faced monsters, bioweapons, and situations that should have killed him more times than he could count. Yet somehow, opening a simple drawer felt infinitely more terrifying.
Slowly, he pulled it open. There, tucked beneath a stack of old documents, was the small velvet box he had hidden away months ago.
Months of carrying it around, wondering if there would ever be a right time and imagining this moment only to convince himself it could wait a little longer.
Leon reached for the box and held it in his hand. The weight was surprisingly light but the meaning behind it wasn't. His thumb brushed across the velvet as he drew in a slow breath.
Nothing about their lives had ever been certain. Tomorrow could bring another crisis, another mission, another reason for them to be pulled apart.
But if there was one thing Leon had never questioned, it was her.
Ada.
Somewhere along the way, she had become the person he wanted beside him for whatever future they had left.
With the box clutched tightly in his hand, Leon exhaled and turned toward the door.
It was time.
Across the living room, Ada sat quietly with an empty wine glass in her hand. The bottle was long gone. Her head rested against the back of the couch as she stared at nothing in particular.
She didn't know what to feel anymore. Tonight had taken her through every emotion imaginable. Happiness, fear, relief, guilt, hope. They all crashed into one another until she could barely tell them apart.
She had finally said the words.
I love you.
The confession still echoed in her mind. For most people, those words came naturally. For Ada, they felt sacred. Dangerous. Like speaking them aloud had changed something irreversible between them.
She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to admitting what she wanted. She had convinced herself that what existed between them was better left unnamed. Safer that way. Once something had a name, it became real. And once it became real, it could be taken away.
That thought frightened her. Because for the first time in a very long time, she was allowing herself to be happy.
What if happiness was a mistake?
What if she was being greedy?
Ada lowered her gaze to the empty glass in her hand.
Twenty years.
Twenty years of longing, running, finding each other, and losing each other again. Twenty years of unfinished conversations and feelings buried beneath duty, fear, and circumstance.
Was it really the right thing to finally call it love?
Her chest tightened. Then another thought entered her mind, one that made her stomach twist painfully.
She had spent the entire night worrying about her own death but what if it wasn't her? What if it was Leon? The possibility hit her harder than any nightmare.
She imagined this house without him. The silence. The empty rooms. The absence of his laughter drifting from the kitchen. The absence of his voice calling her name. Suddenly, breathing became difficult.
If Leon died, she would survive. She knew she would and that was the worst part.
She would wake up every morning and continue existing but she would never truly live again. The world would lose its color. Every place would remind her of him. Every memory would become another wound she couldn't heal.
Ada closed her eyes. She had always believed Leon needed her more than she needed him. Tonight she finally realized how wrong she was.
Because if someone took Leon away from her, she wasn't sure there would be enough of her left to put herself back together.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw him standing there.
Holding a ring.
Looking at her with the same unwavering love he had carried for years andd for the first time that night, Ada felt something stronger than fear.
Hope.
"Are you proposing to me, Kennedy?" Ada asked, one eyebrow raised, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Leon smiled but said nothing. Instead, he lowered himself onto one knee.
"Leo—"
"Ada," he interrupted gently, "I'm not asking you to marry me."
He opened the small velvet box. Inside rested two simple rings, gleaming softly between them.
"I know we can't have that. Not legally. Maybe not ever." His thumb brushed over one of the rings before he reached for her hand, cradling it with a tenderness she rarely saw from him. "But I want us to have something that says we chose each other."
He slipped his fingers between hers, his touch warm and steady.
"These aren't wedding rings," he whispered. "They're a promise. That no matter where our paths take us, we'll always have a home to come back to."
His eyes met hers, unwavering. "So tell me, Ada..." A small smile found his lips. "Will you be my home?"
Ada stared at him, speechless.
"Of course, Leon," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
A relieved laugh escaped him as he slid the ring onto her finger. Then he leaned in, kissing her with quiet tenderness before resting his forehead against hers.
"I'm sorry it's so simple." he murmured.
Ada looked down at the ring and smiled, turning her hand so it caught the light. "What are you talking about? It's beautiful. It looks perfect on me."
For a moment, she simply stared at it. She had never felt anything like this before. Her heart beat so fast it almost hurt, and every doubt that had weighed on her only moments ago melted away. If this were the last day of her life, she thought, she would leave it with no regrets.
Leon chuckled softly. "You deserve a huge diamond. That was the plan at first." He brushed his thumb over the ring on her finger. "But then I kept thinking about you climbing buildings, jumping off rooftops, and getting into fights. A big stone would just get in the way."
Ada laughed, shaking her head. "Flattering. You actually thought about my career parameters."
"I know."
She looked at him with a teasing smile. "Why do you think I deserve a diamond?"
His expression softened. "Because you deserve the best, baby."
A faint blush warmed her cheeks. "Am I your baby?"
"Yeah," Leon chuckled, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her waist. "Which is a relief, because I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford a replacement if you ever got lost. You're a one-of-a-kind headache, Ada."
Ada pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek before resting her head against his chest. "That is so corny but thank you, Leon."
He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers lazily combing through her hair.
"For what?" he asked softly.
"For loving me." His embrace tightened. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, holding her as though he never wanted to let go.
"You should get some sleep," he murmured.
"We've got a long day tomorrow."
He hesitated before asking, almost cautiously, "You're staying... right?"
"Yes."
The single word was enough. Leon slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly into a bridal carry. She laughed quietly as he carried her to his bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed before climbing in beside her. Pulling the blanket over both of them, he settled onto his back and patted his bicep with a grin. "Pillow?"
Ada smiled and rested her head on his arm. He immediately drew her into his embrace.
"I don't have anything here," she murmured. "No clothes. No toiletries. Nothing."
"I'll buy whatever you need tomorrow," Leon said without hesitation. "Just make me a list."
She looked up at him, unable to hide her smile. Leon's gaze lingered on her face. Then, one by one, he kissed her forehead, her temple, the tip of her nose, each cheek, and finally the corner of her lips—as if he were quietly committing every feature to memory, afraid that one day all he would have left was the recollection of her face.