Chapter Text
It’s after Claire finally lets Moira out of her sight, after hours of blood tests and scans and vaccines and poking and prodding, after a crushing hug from her brother and Jill, and once it’s just him and her standing in the living room of the safe house, that he finally manages to string a sentence together that is Leon and not Agent Kennedy.
“I like the hair.”
“Yeah? Thought I would try out something new after nearly two decades.”
“It suits you.”
Her smile is bright, beautiful. Almost hurts to look at. But in a good way, like walking out of a dark cave into the midday sun and being blinded. Fuck, he wants a drink. Too bad he’s never going to have one again.
“Want a drink?” He asks.
If she’s disappointed in his question, she doesn’t show it. Also, he’s not looking at her face so it’s not like he’d see anyway.
“Sure.”
She says nothing when he pours himself a glass of coke, almost more ice than liquid. She chooses ginger ale herself, some of that local stuff that Chris lives off of. Redfields. She gives him a quiet moment before she points out the obvious.
“You’re not drinking.”
It’s not a question, or an accusation. A careful comment, tone light to balance the weight of the words.
Leon swirls the soda in his glass, listens to the clink of ice cubes against the glass, watching the light filter through the bubbles.
“No, I’m not.”
Claire nods and takes a sip of her ginger ale, humming slightly at the bite of it.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Leon looks at his drink and brings it to his lips, taking a long swallow. The sharpness cuts a line down his throat, bubbles prickling at his tongue.
“I stopped when they took you.”
Here it is. What they’ve been dancing around for years. Claire doesn’t even look surprised at his words, doesn’t even pretend. God, he loves her. No bullshit with her. Lord knows what she sees in him.
A smile tugs at her lips as she drinks. She swallows and Leon watches the bob of her throat, the swipe of tongue across her bottom lip. She looks so fucking tired. But…
“Let me guess, Chris pulled you aside for a chat and found himself awkwardly excusing himself when you told him you already stopped.”
Leon snorts, barely avoiding inhaling his drink. “Something like that. Jill totally let him walk into it too.”
“She’s a mean one,” Claire laughs in response, flashing him another one of her brilliant smiles.
They are quiet for a few minutes then. Just drinking their soda and watching the slow drag of headlights pool and pull through the front windows of the house. City seems to be as awake as they are.
Claire breaks the silence first.
“And now? Now that you’ve got me back?”
“Well,” he swallows. Nervous. He’s nervous after all of this. Terrified really.
“Well,” he starts again. And stops again. Fuck.
She says nothing. She’s waiting, like she’s always been waiting. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I don’t think I’ll ever have a drop of alcohol again. I won’t. I don’t think I can.”
“Leon — I don’t — what are you trying to say?”
He laughs, half hysteric.
“You’re really something else, Claire.”
“I’ve been told that before.” She’s amused, but her tone is laced with concern.
“No matter how many guns, knives, partners I go through — I never feel safer than I’m with you.”
“Oh.”
Leon puts his glass down and rubs his hands over his face, over his five o'clock shadow and the bruises under his eyes.
“Ever since Raccoon, I just — do you remember when we met at the gate, and — and I couldn’t open it to let you in — “
“Yeah. Yeah, I remember.” She says softly, taking his hands in hers, tugging them carefully away from his face.
“You made a stupid joke — just hanging in there, just surviving, something like that — leaning up against the gate so casually like it wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. And then when the zombies started to take notice of you, it was like an afterthought. As if talking to me — “ Leon cuts himself off with another laugh, disbelieving and only a little nostalgic — “You were crazy, you still are crazy, and you made me feel like we were actually going to get out of there alive. And we did.”
It was silent after that, Claire rubbing the pad of her thumb over the rough jut of his knuckles, watching his face carefully as he stared at their intertwined hands.
“Then what was with the radio silence? Why — Jesus, Leon, why did you always push me away?”
Her frustration seeps into her words then, but her touch is no less tender.
“I don’t know. It was hard being alive? And then it was hard how alive you made me feel. I only spent one day on the job in Raccoon. And I think I’ve been trying to make up for it for all these years. I didn’t think I could live without the job, but also I don’t think I was living because of it. I don’t know. The more years that passed… the more I felt like I was no longer the guy that you… I felt like I missed my chance. That I fucked up, and I was fucked up, and I didn’t want to go to you like that. I was too scared to.”
“And now?”
“I always thought that I’d be the one to die out there. Not you, never you — there’s no way in hell anything could put you down. But after weeks — at a certain point. I thought maybe you weren’t coming back. Nothing was scarier than that. So when we found you, when we got you back and not Moira — all I wanted to do was to make you feel safe and that we would get her back. That’s all that mattered. And it made me realize, that I… I can do this. No matter how much I wanted to be with you, it’s been so long since I thought I could. But these past few months…”
Leon swallows and carefully brings her hands up to his mouth. He resists the urge to close his eyes as he brushes a kiss to her knuckles, forcing himself to keep eye contact for this.
“I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”
Claire laughs, but her blue eyes are bright with tears as she closes the distance between them. He gives in then, lets his eyes slip closed, to feel nothing but the soft press of her lips against his. Her lips are wind chapped, and he chases after them when she pulls away. He’s awarded with a laugh and firmer peck that leaves him tasting ginger and sugar. Their hands are still clasped between them, which she swings gently back and forth with one of those smiles that promises mischief. As always, Claire doesn’t disappoint.
“Here I was, thinking maybe it was the haircut that finally did you in.”
Leon barks a laugh, so in love he’s almost sick with it, and tugs her forward into another kiss. His response is almost lost in the sweet slide of their mouths against each other, but her laughter is not.