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Summary
Leo couldn’t do it…He couldn’t shoot him, in that last second he aimed passed Vincent and the bullet harmlessly flew passed him…They both don’t move for a long while and Leo’s hand drops with a shaking head with what strength he could muster he throws the gun behind himself as hard as he could and the gun flies off the roof. He’s angry but his anger’s just about fizzled away like water to fire, He’s defeated. He can’t bring himself to kill him, Not Vincent, He lays out with his head against a metal pipe. The metal against his back is cold and he looks up towards the sky. He probably fucked up by doing that but he sees no other way; he’s drained, if he’s going to lose and lay down arms to anyone it may as well be for Vincent. The rain feels good against his face and he sighs.
(or an Alternate ending with smut in the rain.)