Chapter Text
He should feel embarrassed. Maybe he would've been four hours ago, back when he wasn't so physically and mentally exhausted that dying seemed like a solid plan. Bryan looks at the guy standing in front of him. A few scratches and some dirt mark his youthful face, but they do little to take away from what Bryan just told him. He's gorgeous. The kind of person you'd expect to see in a magazine, modeling fancy clothes that Bryan sure as hell can't afford.
Michelle loves those magazines. So does Bryan. They're the kind of magazines that let him fantasize, just for a moment, about being able to afford a custom-made cardigan made from 100% natural wool someday. Maybe one with pumpkins or frogs, or even more sheep to match his beanie. His hands instinctively reach for the beanie that should be sitting on his head, ready to adjust it, but there's nothing there. Right. He lost it. Like everything else. He sniffles, fighting back the tears threatening to spill in front of the prettiest person he's ever laid eyes on, who's currently looking at him with a mixture of fascination and concern. Bryan bets Leon has never seen such a complete wreck of a person before.
"What's wrong? Does it hurt? I have some medicine with me," Leon says, rummaging through his pouch. For medicine, Bryan assumes.
He shrugs. "No, it's just—" He sighs before continuing. "I lost my sheep beanie. It was... it's my favorite." Just because he'd lost it didn't mean it wasn't still his favorite. It fit him just right. That little piece of clothing had been with him through some of his worst moments. When things with Michelle ended, when the neighbor's cat snuck into his apartment and ate the cold slice of pizza that was supposed to be his lunch, when he cried while hugging that poor cat... Yeah, they'd been through a lot together. "It was knitted," he adds, just to give the guy some context and explain why it matters so much.
Leon frowns, looking more like a puppy than he has any right to. "I could knit you one?" he offers uncertainly.
And damn, the guy is so sweet. How the hell has he survived this long if he's already offering to knit a beanie for a complete stranger? Bryan, of all people. The guy who broke the fucking protein base or whatever! Insane.
"Do you even know how to knit, dude?" he asks curiously.
Leon is tall, broader than him, but there's still some baby fat in his cheeks. The mental image is adorable. Bryan met him barely ten minutes ago, but he's already convinced Leon is the kind of person who'd spend his weekends at a nursing home, knitting with little old ladies.
Leon's cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "No... not really, but I can learn," he adds with conviction. He looks so much like Pancakes that Bryan's heart aches. "I'm pretty good at pottery, though. I could make you a sheep-shaped mug or, uh, a pot?" he offers earnestly. As if they aren't standing knee-deep in sewer water, breathing in the stench of rot with every breath.
What the fuck. He does pottery. The laughter hits Bryan out of nowhere, something like a sob that quickly turns into something else. Hysterical laughter. He probably looks insane, laughing so hard that he has to bend over because his stomach hurts from the force of it. He can see Leon out of the corner of his eye, an uncertain smile on his face, as if he isn't sure whether Bryan is laughing at him or with him. What a funny guy. He should be out there working at a flower shop or teaching pottery classes. Not here. Not in Raccoon City. Not with Bryan.
Once the laughter finally dies down, he clears his throat. "Fuck, sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. Pottery is cool. I'd totally fight someone for that mug." At that, Leon smiles like the sun, and he looks even younger. Fucking shit. This kid definitely shouldn't be a cop. "It's just—why pottery?"
This is not a conversation they should be having right now. Bryan should be looking for his guns and leaving Leon alone so he can get out of this hell.
And yet, Leon keeps indulging him, as if talking to Bryan is actually enjoyable and not the least bit weird. People usually find him awkward and annoying. Michelle thought so too, but she'd found it cute. Part of his charm.
"My therapist, uh, Mrs. Maggy, said it was good for practicing patience. That good things take time, you know? Like, you're not going to get it right on the first try, but you keep going."
The smile on Bryan's face falters. That hits a little too close to home for his liking. He swallows past the lump in his throat.
Oh fuck, it's you.
Bryan grips his wrist with his right hand. Maybe he could've used a Mrs. Maggy growing up.
"She seems nice."
Leon nods. "Yeah, she is."
Okay, time to do what he hadn't done for Pancakes. They'd only known each other for a few minutes, but this guy clearly had no intention of leaving him alone. Bryan wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he could figure that much out. Leon hadn't made a single move to leave during their entire conversation, and a cop wouldn't be wandering around the sewers without a good reason. So Bryan squared his shoulders, trying to shake off just how exhausted he really was.
"Okay, I really appreciate the help with—" He vaguely gestures at himself without mentioning the mental breakdown. "You can go back to whatever you were doing." Bryan starts walking around, looking for his guns. If he's lucky, there might still be at least one bullet left in one of them.
Before he can take more than five steps, Leon grabs his left wrist, and Bryan winces, instinctively recoiling in pain. "Oh—shit, sorry. Did I hurt you? I'm so stupid, sorry."
Bryan takes a deep breath, trying to get the pain under control. "Don't worry, pal. It wasn't you... Just, you know, the bite," he finishes awkwardly.
Leon winces. He looks like a kicked puppy. Bryan really wants to hate the guy, but he's making it impossible. "Sorry," Leon apologizes again. "I—just—where are you going? Maybe we're headed in the same direction. I could use the company."
Goddammit. Bryan doesn't believe in God, but right then and there, he silently prays that they aren't going in the same direction. His plan is simple, and even though Leon is basically a stranger, the mere thought of him following Bryan makes him sad. Really fucking sad.
Besides, if this guy still doesn't know what a bite means, it's better to tell him so he can take precautions. "Look—I'm—I—" He draws in a shaky breath. "I'm pretty much done for." He runs a hand through his hair. "When you get bitten, you become one of those things. If—if they don't tear you apart first. I'm just looking for a gun so I—" He trails off, unable to look at Leon. "If you managed to find your way down here, then there's a chance someone else might stumble across this place. I don't want to hurt people, Leon." His voice cracks when he says the cop's name.
Still, he's sure. He wants to do it. He's pushed through so much shit because there was always the possibility of a cure, the chance that he could help people. That all the people he'd kept killing—and yeah, they weren't really people anymore, but to Bryan they still were—had been a means to an end. He could save himself and save the people who could still be saved.
He ruined it.
The only sensible thing left to do is put a gun in his mouth, make sure the safety is off, and pull the damn trigger.
Honestly, if it weren't for Leon, he would've just sat there like a sitting duck, waiting to turn into one of those things and kill the next unfortunate person who happened to stumble upon him. Man, that could've been Leon. The thought makes him sick.
"Okay..." Leon mutters under his breath, his expression turning serious. He points his gun at Bryan.
Oh. Okay, Bryan thinks, closing his eyes. He doesn't have to worry about finding a gun with bullets anymore because Leon is going to do it for him. Even that is a mercy, he supposes. He's scared shitless. Knowing himself, he'd probably hesitate so much that he'd turn into a monster before he could work up the courage to die as a human.
He waits and waits.
Still alive.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the fuck are you doing?!" Bryan screams, his eyes flying open as wide as saucers. Leon has picked him up and thrown him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes! He desperately grabs the back of Leon's bulletproof vest.
"I'm not leaving you behind, Bryan. Especially not to do what you're planning," Leon says sternly as he starts walking down the tunnel, heading back the way he came.
Bryan groans. "Dude, I'm a monster!"
"No, you're not!"
The shout echoes through the silence of the sewers, accompanied by the sound of water splashing around Leon's legs with every step he takes. Bryan loses the will to fight and goes limp like a wet piece of paper. He doesn't even care that his face keeps bumping against Leon's shotgun. He hadn't even noticed the damn thing strapped to his back.
Leon sighs. "I wasn't kidding, Bryan. I want to help you, and—I really think I can. I was tracking down one of Umbrella's scientists, and if that doesn't work, then I'm going to Umbrella's secret laboratory. There's probably a cure there. Actually, I'm sure there is," he assures him with conviction.
It's sweet but unnecessary because Bryan broke the very thing they needed for that. "Yeah, about that..."
Bryan tells him everything. The last package entrusted to him, hitting the woman, the cop who died, the dog, the man he'd killed, the wife, the little girl, Maxine, Paul, and the weird guy with the rats. Leon just listens, still carrying him like a sack of potatoes, but his grip on Bryan's thighs grows tighter. Somehow, it helps.
"Those fuckers..." Leon mutters bitterly. "They didn't even tell you what you were getting into."
Bryan shrugs weakly, feeling tired and a little dizzy from being carried around like this. "Yeah. It was one of those national-security-type deliveries. I'm basically just a glorified pizza delivery guy. And man, do I hate guns. My aim is shit. Honestly, it's a miracle I made it this far."
Leon stops walking and sets him down on the ground. Strangely enough, it's dry. Bryan blinks in confusion and looks up at Leon, who's already watching him with a strange expression. "Whatever you think, it wasn't your fault. You're a civilian who got used by fucking Umbrella," Leon begins, placing his hands on Bryan's shoulders. They're warm. "The hospital was probably another laboratory, but from what you've told me, it sounds more like a branch facility. I'm looking for the main laboratory. Ada, the FBI agent I'm working with, said NEST is their main lab. So there's a good chance we'll find a cure there."
Leon's blue eyes are full of certainty, and they're incredibly kind. Bryan looks away, unable to bear it. "I—I—"
What is he supposed to say to that? He wants to hope, but he doesn't want to be a fool about it and end up hurting the only person who's been so kind to him so far.
Leon takes Bryan's hands in his, just like he did twenty minutes ago when he found him crying in the filthy sewer water. "I promise I'll do everything I can to save you and help this city. And if—and only if—we find out there's no cure for you, and I need you to understand that, then I'll do whatever you want me to do," he promises, gently squeezing his hands.
Bryan blinks, his vision blurring with tears. "Okay... Okay. Would you—can you shoot me if—if it looks like I'm going to... change?"
Leon takes a deep breath before answering. There's a fire in his eyes.
"Yes, I can."
"Okay, okay," Bryan agrees, allowing himself to hope one last time. Leon doesn't look like a liar, and he's the one offering to help. Besides, maybe Bryan isn't quite as ready to die as he'd convinced himself he was just a little while ago.
Leon beams. He literally beams! What a softie, Bryan thinks with something close to amusement.
"Okay, then we can get moving. Just stay close to me. Are you sure you can walk?" Leon asks, pulling a gun from its holster. He checks how many bullets are left before handing it to Bryan.
"Yeah, what?" Bryan stares at the gun in bewilderment before taking it. "Leon, buddy, I can't aim for shit. I think it's better if you keep the gun."
Instead of answering, Leon unfastens one of the holsters strapped around his right thigh and crouches down to secure it around Bryan's leg in the same spot. His hands are careful as he fastens the straps and adjusts them until the holster fits snugly. Jesus. Leon's thigh is way bigger than his scrawny one. Bryan feels heat rushing to his cheeks. "Okay, done. Put it there. And here's some extra ammo for Matilda," Leon says, pressing a few spare rounds into his hands.
"Leon, this is a waste—I'm just a regular guy."
Probably a lot worse than a regular guy, actually, but Leon doesn't need to know that.
"It's just a precaution. I intend to protect you, but in case something gets to you before I can, okay?"
Fuck Leon and fuck his puppy eyes!
"Man, you should've gone into sales or something. You're damn persuasive," he mutters, stuffing the extra ammo into his pockets.
Leon snorts. "Okay, now let me show you how to aim properly and take the safety off."
And that's how they end up spending another ten minutes wasting precious time. Bryan feels guilty about it, so he tries to pay extra attention to every word that comes out of Leon's mouth. He looks so young. Bryan wonders if there was ever a time when he looked like that. Or if he'd always looked the way he does now.
"Let's go," Leon finally says once he's satisfied with Bryan's stance.
Probably better not to tell him that he closes his eyes whenever he shoots like a moron. Can anyone really blame him, though? Bryan is a pacifist. He really hates guns. His mom had one, and it used to scare the shit out of him. What if she got so fed up with him that she decided to use it on him? Those were the kinds of thoughts he'd had growing up, and the reason he'd always shoved a chair against his bedroom door every night, because the stupid lock didn't work.
He follows Leon down a hallway. Leon has his gun raised, ready for whatever might come their way. Bryan trails behind him, fighting the urge to grab the man's arm.
It's stupid how scared he is now that he's decided to accept Leon's help. He's so pathetic it hurts.
"So, how old are you, Bryan?" Leon asks softly as they make their way down a flight of stairs. Cool. This place just keeps dragging them deeper into a literal shithole.
"I'm twenty-six, but I think I look thirty something, and after everything that's happened, I probably look forty," Bryan half jokes. He's damn sure he looks like shit and smells the part, too.
Leon hums. "Nah, man, I'd definitely put you in your twenties. Your eyes are—" He trails off without elaborating, leaving Bryan speechless. What does that mean? His eyes are what?
He's about to demand an explanation when a curse from Leon makes him stop. The stairs come to an end, and they have to wade through shitty water again. Bryan groans. "Fuck, my Jays. They can't fucking catch a break," he complains with something resembling a pout. Not an actual pout, because he's a grown man.
Leon glances over his shoulder. "I can carry you."
Bryan feels his face heat up. "Nah. Could use the walk. I'll just buy another pair once I squeeze some money out of those fuckers when we get out of here."
Maybe it's the comment, the way Bryan talks about a future where they actually make it out, that earns him one of those bright, genuine smiles from Leon. "I'll go with you to the store."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, pretty boy. Let's just get on with this stupid thing that feels like the goddamn Odyssey," he says, patting Leon on the shoulder before stepping into the water first. If there's something lurking down there, it's better if he's the one who finds it. He's practically dead already. No point risking Leon's life, too. He grimaces at the feeling of the filthy water. "And how old are you, anyway? You've still got baby fat and everything. Can't be older than twenty-three."
Leon follows his lead and steps into the water. "I'm twenty-one. Uh, today was actually my first day on the job," he admits shyly.
"Wow, that's—man, that's super fucked up. You're practically a kid, and you got dragged into this shit. What the actual fuck."
Suddenly, Bryan feels angry at the world and the universe itself. Who the fuck thought it was okay to throw a rookie, barely an adult, straight into hell?! Then again, the same could be said about him. He was just a regular guy Umbrella had tricked into digging his own grave. He really hopes that FBI lady Leon mentioned puts every single one of those people behind bars.
"I can drink alcohol... legally," Leon suddenly offers, interrupting Bryan's increasingly homicidal thoughts.
Before Bryan can ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, something emerges from the water. It's like an amalgamation of flesh and tendons, all tangled together with something that seems to be stretching out of it. The thing is huge and horrifying. It lets out a deafening screech.
Bryan stumbles a few steps backward, genuinely terrified. "What the fuck is that?!"
Leon, like a fucking psycho, is already approaching the thing. Not even bothering to give Bryan a goddamn answer. He shoots it straight in the eye with a single bullet. The monster recoils in pain and opens its mouth, its terrifying jaws filled with even bigger, more terrifying teeth. Leon pulls something round out of who knows where and tosses it straight into the monster's mouth. The cop takes a few steps back, putting himself between Bryan and the beast just as the thing explodes. Chunks of the monster rain down around them like some sort of bloody confetti.
Bryan blinks. He can't seem to find his voice.
"Are you okay?" Leon asks, jogging toward him and closing the distance between them.
Bryan opens his mouth, and a strange noise comes out. "Did you just throw a fucking grenade into a monster to blow it up?"
Leon tilts his head like a dog. "Yeah? It's my first time encountering a monster like that. Better to play it safe."
Where did he even get a grenade? And where the fuck does he keep those things? Maybe Bryan really is hallucinating on the brink of death.
Once again, Leon's hand finds his, pulling him farther down the tunnel. They stop when it splits into two paths. Leon hesitates for a second before gently nudging him toward the left one. There's a metal gate at the end, and beside it is some kind of contraption that looks like one of those valves firefighters use to get water. According to Leon, though, it's some sort of mechanism that needs a special key to open. At this point, after seeing what rookie police officer Leon is capable of, Bryan figures it's best to just nod and follow him into the other tunnel to find the stupid key or whatever the hell opens that thing.
The other tunnel stretches on for a while. They walk in silence because Bryan is afraid that if he says anything, he'll attract another one of those things. Eventually, they come across an opening on the right side of the tunnel. It's raised above the level of the sewer water, with a passageway leading up a flight of stairs. Leon helps Bryan climb onto it. They make their way up the stairs and find a door. Leon looks at him and finally speaks again. "Right, my last name is Kennedy. I don't think I mentioned that."
Bryan snorts. "Don't you think we're way past introductions? Mine's Hodukavich."
Leon smiles, adjusts his grip on his gun, and opens the door. There are no monsters or zombies or whatever the hell those things are. Instead, there's some kind of tram? It seems to be stuck or malfunctioning on a platform. If Bryan had to guess, this is probably the thing that's supposed to take them to Umbrella's secret laboratory. NEST.
They walk along the platform, which has a ladder leading up to another room that looks like some kind of control room. A completely vertical ladder. Leon goes first because, "In case there's something up there."
Bryan sighs and simply follows him, climbing the damn thing while making a point of not looking down. Leon offers him a hand to make it easier to step onto the platform connected to the room.
Once they're inside, it definitely looks like a control room. Probably. There are a couple of chairs, some lockers, large windows, and what looks like a television with a player hooked up to it. Bryan is about to start poking around like the nosy guy he is, but his attempts at exploration are interrupted by a sudden noise. Leon immediately rushes toward the large windows.
"Ada." His voice sounds worried.
Bryan follows his gaze, and things don't look good. A woman is lying unconscious on the floor of what appears to be a waste disposal storage area. "We need to help her," he says without thinking.
Leon looks at him, visibly shaken, but there's something warm in his eyes despite his obvious distress. "Yeah, let's do that."
They search the room before moving on, and Leon finds a videotape that they decide to play on the TV. And man, fucking rats. According to the footage, a vial containing the fucking virus had fallen to the floor and shattered. The rats had gotten into the spilled liquid and consumed it before scurrying off, spreading the virus throughout the city. No doubt those little fuckers were responsible for how quickly everything had gone to shit. Bryan groans.
"I hate rats."
"That makes two of us," Leon gently agrees as he searches the room for ammo and other supplies while Bryan sits in a chair because everything sucks.
"Actually... not all rats. I kinda miss the rat this guy I used to hook up with had. It was huge."
The guy was a douchebag. Now that Bryan is older, he can totally see all the red flags he ignored in favor of being a delusional fool. But the rat was a sweetheart. It was nice watching it solve mazes and stuff.
Leon, who's been reading some manual about who knows what, suddenly stops. Bryan thinks he's about to go back to reading when he says, "I have a big rat."
Then he winces, his knuckles tightening around the book. Bryan frowns. "You have a pet rat, too?"
Leon groans and closes the manual or whatever the hell it is. "No. I meant a hamster—Actually, I meant I wanted a hamster. Or a raccoon, but... you know, raccoons aren't really pets. Pretty illegal," he explains, avoiding Bryan's gaze. "But, uh, have you seen that video of a raccoon washing cotton candy?" he asks lamely, finally looking at him with flushed cheeks.
Bryan can't stop the smile spreading across his face. Yep, he can totally picture Leon Kennedy watching cute animal videos. "Yeah, dude. Kinda reminds me of myself."
The poor raccoon, thinking it has something when, in reality, there's nothing there at all. The comparison is a little insulting to the raccoon, but yeah, it's pretty accurate. That basically sums up Bryan's life. His past relationships, his mom, his job, and, well, his soulmate.
Aww, Leon has a dimple on his right cheek when he smiles. "Yeah, you kinda look like one."
Bryan should feel insulted, but instead, he just says, "Fuck off," without any real heat behind it. Leon really is a nice guy. He reminds Bryan that he's still human.