Chapter Text
Being back in the S.T.A.R.S. office is…something.
Jill would have a better way to describe it, but Chris hopes that she’s miles and miles away from Raccoon City at this point. Still, it’s something . The time since he last stepped foot in the R.P.D. feels like years, not months. Equal amounts of nostalgia and rage twist in his chest as he gazes at the various items still in their spots, undisturbed like some macabre museum. The hollow ache in his chest throbs as he holds the picture of the S.T.A.R.S. team in his hands. A tangible reminder of his family.
Two months ago these people were his home.
Now most of them are dead or worse off than they had been.
He swallows thickly, replacing the photo on the wall before sighing and running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for, a note, maybe? His initial hope that Claire had been here and left something for him to indicate where she went feels- God, he hates feelings. He’s sick of feeling everything all the time. He thought after the Spencer Mansion, after they lived through Wesker and that Thing , that things would get better. That surviving, somehow, would fix the betrayal and the loss. But it didn’t. And now Racoon City is overrun with the same horrors he just lived through in July and Claire is here , somewhere-
His internal spiral momentarily halts when he hears the hinges of the S.T.A.R.S. office creak gently, someone- or something- pushing the door open as stealthily as they can. Instinct takes over and he trains his Beretta at the door. He doesn’t have his finger on the trigger, but he’s ready. Hovering by his old desk, waiting, eyes unblinkingly focused on the thing at the door. And it is a person. Sandy blonde-brown hair peeks inside, hesitant, or maybe cautious. Chris catches a glimpse of an R.P.D. uniform and the second of relief he feels is soured by the memory that Irons dismissed the remaining members of S.T.A.R.S. and he can’t trust the R.P.D. to be free of the same corruption. It never ends, does it?
“Stop right there”, Chris’ voice comes out far colder than he thought was possible, and the person- a cop, that looks far too young to be mixed up in all this - freezes.
The man’s face twitches between several emotions - surprise, relief, confusion, and that familiar gut-wrenching fear that Chris knows all too well. His lips part in a soft “oh” as he stares at Chris.
“Who are you and why are you creeping around the S.T.A.R.S. office?” It feels a little unfair to interrogate the kid, but Chris is low on options. There’s really only two reasons for this guy to be running around the R.P.D. - he’s one of Irons’ cronies or he’s a survivor with either the best or worst luck imaginable - and Chris is not about to chance it being the first one.
“Leon S. Kennedy, sir”, Leon’s voice is soft, calm, not a tremble in it despite having a gun pointed at him and being in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. He seems to choose his next words carefully before speaking again, “I’m trying to get out of here with Lt. Branagh”
Lt. Branagh is alive? The surprise must show on his face, because the kid nods and continues, “One of the other officers…” the kid cringes and Chris knows instantly that this other officer is no longer among the living, “he had this notebook- there’s a secret exit, but I have to get these medallions-”
Chris sighs and lowers his gun, holstering it on his hip again. “Alright,”
“Alright, sir?” Leon asks, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly in an unconscious way that is annoyingly endearing.
“Which medallions do you have already?” If Leon has even one of them, that would be awesome. He looks slightly put out at the way his question is glossed over, but he recovers quickly.
“Two, sir”
“You can drop the ‘sir’, kid” Chris doesn’t want to be snappy, but his patience is already worn thin by - well everything, “which one do you have left?”
Leon’s face does an interesting thing when Chris calls him ‘kid’, but he once again brushes it off, a more serious look replacing it as he explains, “I need the maiden medallion, I saw it in the storage room connected to the library - but it’s boarded up. I was able to find some C4 and a detonator- I just need a battery to power the detonator”
Huh. Resourceful. Chris can’t help but feel a little impressed. Leon is making decent progress on that escape plan. He doesn’t exactly remember the specifics of where the Maiden Statue is, but he does recognize the description of the West Storage Room.
“There should be a boombox around here somewhere, we could probably steal the battery from that.”
It only takes a minute to locate the boombox and the battery inside Wesker’s office. It’s another surreal moment seeing Wesker’s desk. He had purposely avoided it earlier in favor of looking anywhere else. Wesker. His jaw clenches thinking of that asshole. Even now he couldn't believe he betrayed S.T.A.R.S. and led them to their doom. At least he's dead now, Chris thinks. It's a bitter resolution. How much of his time with them had been a smoke screen? Had he ever cared about any of them?
“Got it!” Leon says beside him and Chris is forced back into the present nightmare.
Chris keeps an eye on Leon as they creep back out of the S.T.A.R.S. office. The monstrous thing with the tongue is on the ceiling and it crawls disjointedly along as they watch silently. The desire to unload his clip on it is overwhelmed by the instinctual knowledge that killing it will bring other things to their location. Instead, he follows after Leon. He’s likely a rookie, Chris reasons, watching that mop of sandy hair pivot from side to side before Leon signals them forward. Part of him is annoyed that the rookie had insisted on going first, but the other part of him is grateful for the chance to observe.
“So you’re part of S.T.A.R.S.?” the question startles Chris out of his thoughts and he silently curses himself for getting stuck in his own head when there’s so many things roaming around that could capitalize on his inattention. Luckily, the zombies wandering around on the 1st floor of the library don’t seem to care that the two are making their way towards the West Storage room, content to shamble around aimlessly. Chris tries not to think about who they might have been, if he knew them, or if they were just civilians who died in the place they thought would be safest.
“Yeah,” Chris leaves out that S.T.A.R.S. is currently on ‘administrative leave’ indefinitely due to Irons and Leon nods, mostly to himself, in reply. Chris is positive Leon must have a ton of questions swirling around in that head of his. He can practically see the gears turning.
“Alright”, Leon says and Chris quirks an eyebrow at the sass in his tone before adding ‘snarky’ to the list of things he knows about this rookie.
The detonator predictably makes some noise. A lot of noise, actually, and Chris is left to fend off one of those tongued monstrosities while Leon puts the code in the stupid statue to snatch the stupid medallion. Leon is quick - which Chris is grateful for, and the tongue-thing, licker, goes down after a clip and a half. More ammo than Chris really wants to use on a single target. But there's no use crying over spent bullets. He makes a mental note to avoid the lickers if possible in order to conserve ammo. The rookie, to his credit, seems to have amassed a decent little armory for himself: a shotgun, a pistol, with a small trove of bullets for each. Chris lets himself feel a little hope for their survival. At least they won't have to scrounge for bullets…for now.
“So,” Chris starts as they move back through the library towards the main hall, “you seem pretty prepared.” It's a mostly neutral statement, almost a compliment if it wasn't said so suspiciously.
“Thank you, sir” the honorific seems to come out without any thought and Leon pauses a little beside him, a soft pink coming to his cheeks at the mistake. Chris finds himself smirking just a little before he catches himself.
“I was able to find a couple things while I was trying to figure out the medallion situation” It's said with the littlest hint of pride, a small twitch of a smile coming to Leon's lips for a second before he schools it into something more neutral.
“Been at the R.P.D. long?”
Chris curses himself for being awkward and weird about it. His gut is telling him Leon is good . But he wants proof. I thought Wesker was good too, he reminds himself.
Leon gives him a sheepish look,“It's my first day”
Chris doesn't get a chance to respond to that before Leon's advancing into the main hall ahead of him, gun raised. Chris’ mind whirls at that fact. First day? Christ. This kid really is a rookie. Fresh from some academy and sent into this hell. A sudden surge of protectiveness wells up in his chest. Leon is just like Rebecca who was barely a member of S.T.A.R.S for 2 full months before the Mansion. Leon should be at a bar or a party or something, celebrating his first shift, not meeting his coworkers as corpses and solving ridiculous puzzles to hopefully survive the night. Chris follows after him, lamenting the loss for Leon. Maybe if they survive he will buy him a drink to celebrate. He hastily pushes the thought aside. There's no time for daydreaming.
They make their way down the stairs, slot the last medallion in and watch as a barred door is slowly revealed by the statue's movement. Whoever designed the R.P.D. would have loved the Spencer Mansion, Chris thinks, idly wondering if they actually might be connected. It wouldn't surprise him at this point. He is surprised that the door opens when Leon turns the knob. Thank God. One less puzzle to solve.
“So it goes underground…huh”, Leon says thoughtfully before turning to Chris with a look of determination on his face. Those big blue eyes sparkle with it and Chris is slightly taken aback by the sincerity of his expression, “that's it- that's our way out”
“Sure looks that way” Chris says, mentally preparing himself for something horrible waiting in the underground. His limited experience in undead outbreaks has primed him for assuming the worst.
“Lieutenant Branagh!” Chris’ head whips around at the call, his eyes eventually finding Branagh on one of the reception couches. He looks…rough is an understatement.
“ Marvin!” The rookie looks genuinely stricken at the state of the lieutenant, but he continues towards the prone man with no hesitation. Chris readies his gun. If that wound is what he thinks it is…he's going to have to act quickly. Leon approaches anyway, even keel, as if completely unaware of the potential dangers.
“It's time to go,” Chris feels a pang of grief seeing Marvin lying there motionless. Marvin was a good man, a righteous one. Even though they never worked closely, Chris knows that he was the type of cop to do it by the book, to do it right even if that meant extra paperwork. He even brought in donuts when Chris beat the high score in the shooting range. An overall good man who didn't deserve to die, not like this.
Leon's voice is quieter now as he reaches to shake the Lieutenant- his hand doesn't even touch him before Marvin jerks upwards with a growl. Chris grips his Beretta a little tighter, ready to fire if Marvin lunges at Leon. He can't bear another death on his conscience, but he will take the burden of killing Marvin if it spares Leon having to do it.
Leon backs off a little, looking concerned of all things as he kneels beside the couch. Something uncomfortable wriggles in Chris’ chest, not quite fear, but something closer to dread.
“Hey…Marvin. We need to get you to a hospital right now.” Leon insists, eyebrows pinching in as he looks up at the Lieutenant.
Jesus. This kid. It's heartbreaking seeing him like this. Something so damn innocent and soft about the way he kneels there pleading with a dead man to let him help .
“No, no I-” Marvin stammers, shaking his head before he looks up at Chris.
“Redfield…” he sighs, the sound is raw and rattle-y. The acknowledgement makes the twisting dread in his chest twist a little tighter. He's barely hanging on and he knows it.
“Hey, Branagh” Chris nods to him, lowering his gun. Marvin still seems lucid…at least for now. Leon looks between the two of them with wide eyes, an unspoken question of ‘you know each other?’ On his face.
“Save yourselves,” Marvin says, and Leon is on his feet in seconds attempting to coax Marvin to his feet, to drag him with them if he has to. Chris already knows how this is going to go, knows that Marvin isn't going to come with them, that he's already accepted that this is where his story ends.
“C'mon I got yo-”
“GO!”
“Look we can still make it out of here together, if you just gimme-” Leon's practically pleading now as he reaches towards Marvin again. Inexplicably, it conjures a memory of Claire reaching for an injured stray and getting bit for her efforts. Chris shivers, watching the exchange in tense silence. His gun is up and on Marvin the second he sees the flash of Marvin’ service weapon. Leon steps back, blinking, stunned. Chris is stunned too. He never thought he would pull a gun on a Marvin, or that Marvin would hold a rookie at gunpoint. Marvin's face contorts in pain, regret flashing over his features as he keeps the gun steady on Leon. His other hand clutches over his wound. Blackish blood seeps between his fingers.
Chris reaches out a hand, gripping Leon's shoulder. Solid. Grounding. A subtle warning that injured animals bite and humans are the most dangerous animal around.
“Leon…” he says softly and Leon ignores him, his focus remaining on Marvin as the lieutenant struggles to get his next words out.
“It's too late…I tried, Leon. But I couldn't stop it. We can ' t let this thing spread.”
Chris squeezes Leon's shoulder, a reflexive action that he doesn't have time to unpack before Marvin speaks again.
“It's on you now.”
Chris wants to yell, wants to scream at Marvin for lumping all this responsibility on Leon . It's not fair . Leon can't be much older than 20, he’s already been through hell just trying to live through this night. It's not fair to ask him to do anything more.
A beat of silence passes as Chris agonizes over what he should do if Leon won't leave Marvin. Should he shoot Marvin now? Or should he let the rookie waste his energy arguing with the doomed man?
“I understand.” Leon's response takes Chris off guard. A solemn acceptance. A promise to carry that responsibility. Leon shrugs Chris’ hand off and turns towards the underground passageway, dutifully trudging towards the door. Marvin looks to Chris, his eyes serious.
“Watch out for him, Chris. He's a good kid. Make sure he makes it out of here”
“Take care of yourself, Marvin” he nods. He won't let anything happen to Leon.