Chapter Text
Luis
Luis has never felt so much pain.
It seizes every inch of his body, wearing his bones down to chalk. Aching fire sears his muscles until they feel like nothing but melted wax underneath his skin. There’s a pounding in his head that devolves into tempting whispers. They want him to hurt Leon, and he can’t shut them out. His hands twitch to grasp around Leon’s throat until his life drips onto Luis’ fingertips. As Leon carries Luis, he jolts towards the handgun on Leon’s hip. It’s so open and too trusting.
To resist is excruciating, but he can’t hurt Leon. To do that would be an agony worse than this.
Around him, the world has become a mass of shadows that are moulded from his sins. It’s only Leon he can see and feel, shuddering and warm, but slipping away with every blink. He only knows they’ve found safety because Leon stops. Gently, he rests Luis against a wall. In his back, Luis feels the phantom pain of a blade finding a home in his spine. He feels the wetness against his skin, and he feels cold.
Luis’ ears ring in alarm, but he can still hear Leon’s voice. It’s made of desperate whispers and resisted tears. Luis never thought he’d hear Leon sound so scared. It makes the pain worse.
“Luis, listen to me,” Leon begins. Then, under his breath, he curses. “Fuck, can you even hear me?”
With effort, Luis nods. Leon is the only thing he can hear.
In relief, Leon sighs. “Okay. I won’t lie, it’s bad out there. But if we can get out to the rooftop, we might be able to circle back around. You just have to stay with me until then. Once we find Grace, we can help you.”
Luis can’t bite down his bitter laugh. He strains to look at Leon, whose shimmer with the tears that he won’t allow to fall. They beg for Luis to agree with the plan.
They know he won’t.
“Leon,” Luis coughs out. His voice remains soft, even as his lips are bloodied. “Don’t be… an idiot.”
Leon’s brow furrows. There are so many lines of anger and pain etched into his skin. Luis wonders how many are his fault.
“You need to save Grace,” Luis continues. “You need to be cured.”
“You need to be cured!” Leon hisses. “How many times do I have to say it before you get it in your head? Why are you doing this to me again?”
“It’s not… about me, Leon,” Luis struggles out. “It wasn't then… it isn’t now. Do you think I want to die here? This place is so shitty… and gross.” When he coughs, it’s wet and metallic.
Leon jerks forward to try to catch the life dripping from Luis’ lips. At this moment, Leon looks even younger. Nothing like the aged, worn man he really is. Luis wonders if this was what Leon was like as a rookie, before he was forced to change.
“Then don’t,” Leon stresses. “Just hold on a little longer.”
“Gideon… he’s just like Saddler,” Luis grimaces. “If he keeps Grace, he’ll spread Elpis until there’s nothing left.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Leon replies. “That’s why I need you for this. It’s more than me.”
Luis shakes his head. The throbbing in his skull knocks around his membrane.
“Leon, I… it’s trying to control me. I can feel it. I can’t let the lady see me like this, can I? I’ll lose all my charm.”
It’s all a feeble attempt at humour. If Luis is being honest, he can’t remember the last time he sought after the affection of a lady. Solely, it’s Leon’s thoughts that matter to Luis’ heart.
But he can’t let them in times like this, because they will make Luis as irrational as Leon is being. So, he’ll pretend all he needs to until Leon gives up. He doesn’t want to die here. He doesn’t want Leon to die here even more.
Yet, Leon just can’t help but be stubborn. “I fought it before. Even when I couldn't tell what thoughts were my own and what thoughts were Saddler’s. But Saddler’s not here. You can fight it, Luis. You have for most of your life.”
Outside, zombies moan. One sings, hauntingly human. The door shudders underneath the weight.
It won’t hold for much longer.
“What a way to remind me…” Wryly, Luis’ mouth twists upwards. “I’m the one… that studied Las Plagas, you know? I know what it’s like.”
“Okay, and so do I. Your infection never got to this point before. Mine did.” Leon’s words tumble from his lips. With every thud they’re harder to hear.
The zombies slam into the door again, and Leon’s hand jerks away from Luis and towards his handgun. It curls around the grip if only for comfort. Shaking, Luis directs his own hand towards Leon’s, embracing the searing warmth of Leon’s hand burning through his glove. Leon’s breaths deepen as Luis’ thin.
It’s not fair. He wants to cure Leon. He wants to be cured. He wants to leave Raccoon City in the ashes, and to leave Valdelobos behind in an extracted parasite. What he’d give to have one more talk with Ada, when they’d both pretend she didn’t care as much as she did. He’ll never get to see Ashley again, or know whether Grace made it to safety.
Most of all, he wants to know what it’d be like to hold Leon and feel no guilt. Luis knows, no matter what he’d been taught as a boy, that it would feel right. He knows what it’s like to feel Leon’s hand brush through his hair. He knows what Leon looks like with eyes so longing, yet so hesitant. Unable to take what he wants so desperately. Luis knows the feeling.
He shouldn’t expect anything from being good. But he at least wanted to have this.
Now, he has to wait to die, hoping Grace can do what he couldn’t. Even if Leon escapes the monsters that await, the chances of him making it are slim. Being partially blinded by agony doesn’t spare Luis from seeing it: the black shadows returning to Leon’s skin; the quivering in his limbs; the distancing of his gaze. Neither of them have much time.
The door begins to splinter. Leon looks between Luis and the hoard of shadows moving underneath the frame.
“Grace needs you, Leon,” Luis says. “You’re the knight now, remember? The knight… saves the princess.”
“What if I need you?” Leon whispers.
A mangled, grey hand tears through the doorframe. As it does, Leon grips Luis’ hand with such desperation it might splinter itself. A numbing ache suffocates Luis’ body, so he can’t voice any protest as Leon stumbles towards the door with Luis resting against his side. Mindless, Luis leans in closer, until there is no clear separation between them. Leon’s warmth soothes his pain.
But then the door frame collapses, and Luis remembers what’s happening to him. He rips himself away. It’s like tearing glue from skin; a part of himself is left clinging to Leon desperately. But it’s enough to send Leon careering back towards the rooftop entrance, away from the hoard.
Outside, the rain is gentle against the rooftops. Over Leon’s shallow breathing, it’s all Luis can hear. It’s nicer than starving moans and ringing pain.
With the last of his strength, Luis staggers towards Leon. Clinging onto Leon’s shirt, he whispers into the fabric.
“I have so many regrets… so many reasons to be damned.” His breath shudders. “But you were never one of them, Leon. Mierda, what I’d do to come with you. To be selfish and to be yours.”
He doesn’t look up. Into Leon’s chest, he smiles. “We should’ve had more time… right? To justify this feeling.”
“Luis.”
“It was only a day… and look how you’ve ruined me. Yet it took almost twenty years… for me to accept you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve wanted nothing more.”
When Leon moves to grip Luis’ shoulders, Luis uses the last of his strength to push Leon out into the hallway. He doesn’t linger on Leon’s expression. He doesn’t mourn the emptiness his body feels. He doesn’t hear Leon’s desperation or fear.
Tired, Luis presses himself against the door to keep it shut. The ridges dig into his back, shaking as Leon tries to force his way back in.
Not for the first time, Luis wishes he had his cigarettes. He wishes Leon was here to light them.
But he keeps the door closed. He waits for the monsters to find him.
Leon
I’ve wanted nothing more.
Leon wants to die. He’s wanted it often. A few times after Raccoon City he came close to it. The gun would be loaded, pressing promises of peace into his temple. With a single movement, there’d be no more nightmares.
But then he’d remember Sherry and Claire. The gun would clatter on his desk, and he’d have to leave it there.
The feeling never went away. Sometimes, on missions, he’d wait for the death that should’ve happened years before. But there were always people he had to protect, who’d suffer if he gave himself what he wanted. Luis was allowed to die. His team was allowed to die. Leon never was.
The door ahead is lodged shut by Luis’ body, but it won’t be for long. All Leon has to do is wait, and the zombies would pile through. They’d tear him apart.
If he did that, Luis would hate him. Grace would die.
Leon shudders out a deep breath. He checks his magazine and reloads. It’s done just so this feels like any other mission, where Luis isn’t dying, or already dead, on the other side of the door.
Then, Leon runs. Out on the rooftop, the rain sobs softly into his skin. He doesn’t look up at the moon in case it is shadowed by clouds, like veins across an iris. Aimless, his gaze is kept forward as he tumbles down steps and staggers back into the streets. He doesn’t know where he’s going, or where Gideon dragged Grace. Every sound is distant from his ears. The ground is far away from his body.
It’s only because his radio is pressed close to his hips that he feels it vibrate. He halts so sharply that the wind scars his face.
Grace has his other radio, but he doubts it’s her. Gideon wouldn’t give her the chance to call for him.
But Leon doesn’t even get a moment to question the caller. The moment he connects, a familiar voice tears through the static.
“Leon? You better stop ignoring me, I swear.”
Leon is sure his eyes have widened to become spotlights. It’s not Hunnigan on the other end of the line.
“Ashley? Why are you-“
“Finally, oh my god!” Ashley is near breathless with relief. “Ingrid and I have been trying to reach you for hours-“
Cutting in, Leon hears Hunnigan, unusually quiet. “It’s Hunnigan to you, Miss Graham.”
“Okay, yeah, sorry, I’m just a little stressed,” Ashley mumbles. “Leon, what’s going on? Your tracker says you’re in Raccoon City.”
Under his breath, Leon curses. He forgot he had that.
When his silence lingers, Hunnigan sighs through the receiver. Leon can imagine her leaning against her desk, nails digging into her temple, trying to pick away the stress building in her head.
“Just answer her, Leon,” Hunnigan demands. “She’s causing me enough stress.”
“My investigation into Gideon led me here,” Leon explains, as he starts down the streets again. “He wants to use the FBI analyst, Grace Ashcroft, to free his virus. There’s something in her blood.”
Then, because he has a right to be confused, “Ashley, why the hell are you with Hunnigan?”
“I’m undergoing DSO training, you know,” Ashley replies. Before Leon can even think to voice protest, she continues. “Not that I could tell you, because you still wouldn’t approve. But when I heard that Hunnigan couldn’t reach you, I freaked out.”
“So she wouldn’t let me do my job until you responded.” Hunnigan says. Then, with a little less exasperation: “Good work in finding out about Gideon‘s intentions. This is vital for his apprehension.”
Before Leon can relax, she adds, “But that still doesn’t explain why you kept yourself radio silent.”
Leon could lie. He’s given them the truths needed to complete his mission.
But, the moment it’s known that Gideon has been apprehended, they’ll call for his extraction. When they do, they’ll find out. By the time they arrive, he might be left as one of the walking corpses the DSO have to clean up. Luis might be too.
Ideally, though, Leon would call for extraction as soon as Grace is safe. If that’s the case, he won’t have the luxury of being unaware. He’ll be forced to watch the expressionless helmets deliberate his sentence, as if there would ever be any choice but execution.
He wonders what fate they’d choose for Luis, and whether they’d even find him.
Telling Ashley about Luis might be too much. Even this is, really. No doubt, it’ll drag up her traumas, peeling open barely healed scars as it does. Like Leon, she’ll feel a phantom pain writhe in her head.
Leon plays with the truth on his tongue, tasting which words sound the kindest for Ashley to hear.
In the end, it’s the ones that are the most simple.
“I’m infected. I didn’t want it to divert the mission. I’m sorry, Ashley. Hunnigan.”
There’s a heavy silence on the other end of the line. It’s so long Leon thinks his connection has been cut.
“When did this happen?” Hunnigan asks.
She responds as a handler would. It’s the professionalism he expects from her.
“Shortly after I arrived. I was caught off guard.” Leon admits. “It’s my own fault.”
Ashley, however, doesn’t bother to hide her fear.
“You’re so stupid,” she whispers. “Who cares about diverting the mission, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I’m not the priority here. Gideon is, and so is Grace Ashcroft.” Leon birds his lip. “Worrying about what’s already happened won’t help her or stop him.”
“You never think you are, do you? Even back then. The mission is important, but so are you.”
It’s ironic to hear after Leon himself berated Luis for thinking the same. Seems neither of them found much reason to value their lives.
“Miss Graham is right,” Hunnigan says. “You should’ve informed us sooner.”
Leon drags his hand across his face. Why are they telling him this? Scolding him won’t change what’s been done. He’s doomed.
Hunnigan, however, doesn’t think the same. With an air of lightheartedness, she adds, “it’s a good thing we’ve been doing some research of our own. Well, more specifically, Miss Graham has.”
“She has?” Leon asks. He grimaces at how bewildered he sounds. That wasn’t intentional.
There’s a shuffle over the speaker as Ashley leans in too close, her voice loud and excitable, distant from the grief it held a moment ago. “Don’t sound so shocked, geez. I was looking into some of the files, you know, whilst waiting for you to actually respond. I don’t know, doesn’t this virus seem familiar to you?”
Leon pauses. She can’t possibly be meaning what he thinks she is.
“I guess. Ashley, where are you going with this?”
“Well, at first all I found was that Elpis is derived from this thing called the mold. It’s weird.” She shivers. “The mold makes it so the infected keep some of their human personalities, basically. Though you probably already know that.”
“Yeah…” Leon mumbles. So, this isn’t the first instance of a virus as human as this; it’s just his first unfortunate encounter.
Ashley continues. “But Gideon’s virus isn’t only that, otherwise it would just be the mold again. Hunnigan told me that you once met this guy called Arias? Someone who bought a Las Plagas sample?”
Leon’s breath hitches. Once again, his mind stops, even if his body has to move.
He answers, but the words feel like wet cement coating his lips, soon to dry and fix them together.
“I did. He had a virus that let him control the infected, like Saddler.”
He doesn’t elaborate more. Ashley doesn’t need to know about the darkness that drained his life back then. She doesn’t need to know about the never ending taste of whisky, or the ghosts in the body bags.
“I thought so,” she hums. “It seems Gideon was inspired by Arias’ research. He didn’t find Las Plagas, but he found the A virus and the mold. Somehow, these viruses have mutated to become something else entirely. Something Grace was exposed to once, at Wrenwood Hotel, after her mother... It's why he thinks her blood can be used to awaken Elpis. Whatever Elpis might be.”
After taking a short gasp of air, Ashley rambles on. “But, I think, if used as an anti viral for someone with existing viral antibodies, it might do more than that. I’m not sure about being a cure as it is, but it could definitely slow your virus down.”
“I know it can slow it.” Leon admits. “She’s done that for me already.”
“Huh?” Ashley blurts out with confusion. “How did she know to do that?”
Leon sighs. In the end, he needs to just say it, now that Ashley has confirmed that Las Plagas might linger within Elpis after all. It means that what Gideon told Luis had been a lie.
“Would Grace’s blood work on someone infected with Las Plagas?”
Ashley’s hum jumps over the receiver. “I mean, it probably could if some antibodies were still there, but why? We’re both fine now, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, we are,” Leon grunts. “But Luis isn’t. He’s here. He was the one who used Grace’s blood as a suppressant.”
There’s a slight pause before Ashley replies.
“I don’t understand,” she whispers. “He’s dead, right? You said he was, so how can he be-“
“I saw him die,” Leon says. “But I didn’t see him wake back up. Remember how he told us how he did the surgery himself?”
“Mm. I always thought it must’ve been horrifying, to have to do something like that to yourself.”
“I did too. I guess, doing it himself, he didn’t get rid of all of the plaga, and it kept him alive. But only for so long.” Every breath Leon takes shakes more than the last. It might be fatigue from the endless running and searching. More likely, it’s the hopelessness building in his throat, careering his words off their course.
“I had to leave him. Again. But if Grace’s blood can be used with Las Plagas too, then…”
Ashley pieces it together. “Yeah. I don’t see why it wouldn’t help Luis too.”
The relief Leon feels is near stifling. There’s a chance to save Luis. If Luis can hold on just a little longer. Leon begs he holds on.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Hunnigan speaks up, with less ease. “But, is this the same man you asked me to look into before? Are you telling me there’s another ex Umbrella employee there?”
Leon forgot that, to anyone else, Luis is still nothing more than Umbrella scum. Leon may have forgiven him, but the world hadn’t.
“He’s different,” Ashley rushes to explain. “We wouldn't have made it out of Valdelobos if it wasn’t for him.”
“Leon, is that true?” Hunnigan asks. Leon doesn’t know why Ashley’s word is trusted less than his own. Maybe, it’s because it was to Hunnigan that he expressed his now forgotten hatred towards Luis. Leon was the one who had a history with Umbrella, one coated in resentment and hate. If he praised someone with those ties, they must be different.
“Yeah. I owe Luis. For so much. He deserves to be cured too.”
Hunnigan sighs. “Well, that’s an unexpected change of heart. Still, apprehending Gideon and getting Miss Ashcroft and yourself back to us, safe, is most important. I know you know that.”
With reluctance, Leon hums in agreement. He hates it, but if going back to Luis puts Grace at risk, then he can’t. Though, he pointedly blanks out Hunnigan’s mention of his own safety. That can be discarded. If there’s even a slight chance of a life without Las Plagas and Umbrella for Luis, Leon has to give it to him.
I’ve wanted nothing more, Leon remembers, and wonders if Luis would ask him for anything else. Leon has an overwhelming debt to pay back, after all. Luis could ask of Leon whatever he desires.
“We can do both,” Ashley argues. “If Leon finds Grace in time. Leon, where are you now?”
“I’m still near the RPD,” Leon grimaces. “It’s held up pretty well, all things considered.”
“Athe RPD? Are you, like, okay being there?”
“I’m having the time of my life. It’s a real nostalgia trip.”
“Leon…” Ashley murmurs. “Well, it means you’re close, then. I think that care center was just a front for Gideon’s research. I’ve tracked recent involvement to the old orphanage.. misplaced bodies, talks of transporting machinery and equipment, the usual stuff. I think he’s really holed himself up in there. Whatever he needs to use Grace and awaken Elpis, it’s in that orphanage.”
Leon’s impressed. He’s never doubted Ashley’s capabilities; he’d still be stuck in Valdelobos without them. But, he’d wrongly assumed those skills were triggered by the situation, by the looming threat of infection that meant a need for haste and bravery.
He shouldn’t have underestimated her.
“You know, you could steal my job.”
“I’m not an agent yet,” Ashley giggles. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll stick with being a handler. This is kind of fun.”
“It’s not meant to be fun,” Hunnigan argues, but a smile laces around her words.
“So getting to talk to me all the time isn’t fun? Harsh, Hunnigan.”
“That’s not what I said at all.” Hunnigan sighs. “Don’t you have a job to be doing?”
Right. Leon’s not aimless anymore.
The orphanage isn’t far. In the odd conversations he could steal with Sherry, she’d told him the orphanage was where dread and death felt at home. Knowing the experiments conducted within its walls, it’s not a surprise. Even now, a shell of what it was, the eeriness of it overwhelms Leon. The place is a childish moment trapped in time. There’s still a tower building blocks left unfinished, bright colours greyed by ash and debris. Plush toys are tinged by dead flames. Bed posts are broken and empty. The vibrant murals on the walls are worn away, so only the subliminal lies remain.
A shiver crawls through Leon’s skin. He can’t imagine what it’d be like to grow up here.
“Ashley, Hunnigan. I’m there.”
“Do you see anything weird? Any place Gideon might hide?”
Leon creeps deeper into the orphanage. There’s nothing obvious, not at first, just broken staircases and wounded floors. With every weakened step, the view beyond becomes warped by his infection.
But he can see enough to make it through and find something. In the corner of a children’s bedroom, past the shattered bedframe and abandoned stuffed animals, Leon spots scratches etched into the wood floors. They extend past a bedpost like a white scar. They’re evidence of something having been moved.
“Gotcha,” Leon smirks. With a groan, he pulls the bedpost aside with more effort than he’s used to. The wood crumbles beneath his fingers, casting a cloud of fine grey into Leon’s face. He coughs as the ash scratches his throat.
But, when it dissipates, Leon sees what he expected. Hidden underneath the bedframe is a trapdoor, blended in with the oak floors, left askew.
It has to be where Gideon went.
Leon coughs again, deeper. This time, his hand comes away bloodied.
“Shit.”
“Leon, what is it?” Ashley asks.
“Nothing. I think I found it,” he deflects. He can’t think about it. “There’s a trapdoor here. I don’t know how the sneaky bastard managed to jump down there with Grace, though.”
Leon can hear the bright joy in Ashley’s smile. “That should be it!”
“Be careful, Leon,” Hunnigan adds. “I don’t want to have too much paperwork to do after this.”
“When am I not?”
Then he casts a look at his hand, where his black glove is stained with red. When he takes it off, his skin is just as black underneath. The bruises ache up his arm, creeping underneath his sleeve. No doubt, they’re now like a mask across his face. The blurriness in his eyes makes sense if they’re becoming shadowed too.
“Ashley, if something happens to me-“
“I don’t want to hear it. You’re making it out, okay? Both you and Luis. A catch up is way overdue, and I’m not going to let you stand me up.”
“You got it,” Leon mumbles. He wants to believe what she’s saying; he really does. But, when he jumps down the trap door, a fierce pain bursts through his body after the impact, one he’s not felt before. He can only stagger through the tunnel underground. Sweat seeps through his gloves, sticking them to the shadows on his skin. His mouth tastes of nothing but metal.
He prays there’s no undead lurking down here. Because, if there are, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to fight back.
How is he going to apprehend Gideon like this?
When Leon next coughs, it’s more of a guttural hack that makes him think he’s lost a lung. He lurches against the wall as blood drips from his lips in thick clumps. Heavily, he breathes in, but each inhale is strained. The air doesn’t want to enter his throat anymore.
But, with his other hand fixed onto the wall for balance, he feels voices throbbing through his palms. One is muffled, but deep with rage and righteousness. The other is terrified.
Grace is so close. Gideon is too close.
“I think I’ve found them,” Leon says. He can barely recognise his own voice.
“Oh my god, Leon, are you okay?” Ashley whispers. Even Hunnigan gasps at the sound of him.
“I’m fine,” he lies. A cough wracks through his body, one that he knows they both hear. “Just got something in my throat.”
“Maybe you should wait,” Ashley hurries out. “We can send in backup.”
Leon shakes his head. Even that hurts.
“We can’t wait any longer. I have… to save her.”
The need to save Luis is left unsaid. Ashley doesn’t need to know how deep those feelings run through him. They beat in the valves of his heart.
“Leon-“ Ashley starts. But Leon can’t listen any more. He can’t let her change his mind.
Leon switches the radio off. He moves forward with only the wall keeping him upright until he reaches a thick, steel door left ajar. Holding his breath, he peers through the tight gap.
The room inside is a tight, makeshift laboratory. A light shines sharply above, reflecting across the white walls. It makes Grace, where she is strapped to a surgical bed, look even paler. Her whole body convulses as she struggles against her restraints, but it’s to no avail. Around her are machines; each processes a vial of blood. Most samples are dead and clotted, but one is bright and newly taken.
Beside the fresh sample is another bottle, encasing a black, faint liquid. It’s as if a shadow is trapped inside.
Like the creep he is, Gideon is leering over Grace with a stretched grin. He trails his nails across her bare arms, leaving them stained by the blood he holds precious.
Leon knows he won’t win against Gideon. He can’t even keep his finger on his trigger. But, when it comes to this, he’s always been stubborn. He’ll push himself until there’s nothing left of himself if it means a life is saved.
He falls forward, and shoves the door open. It strains with a pitched screech. At the interruption, Gideon jerks up with a snarl. Grace whimpers with a pitch of hope.
“You are one persistent man, Leon Kennedy,” Gideon sneers. “Even in your state, you’re still here.”
He leans in closer to Grace. She flinches, eyes clenched shut.
“God, you’re a real creep. Can’t you tell she’s not interested?” Leon raises his handgun. But Gideon only laughs in his face, spewing spit that reeks of rot and mockery.
“I don’t need her to be,” Gideon says. “She will never understand the beauty behind Elpis.”
Then, he turns to Leon, and detaches his hood. Underneath, his skin is just as mottled, with grey veins bulging beneath wired hairs. Yet, it’s his eyes that cause Leon to feel unease. The whites are nothing but a black void, lit only by irises that flicker a rusted orange. Leon’s never seen anything like it. No standard virus causes this.
“You’re impressed, are you not? It is Elpis that caused this to happen to me.” He explains. “This world is so wretched. It’s plagued by pestilence. By hunger, war and death. Umbrella made this worse. They only aimed to cause harm and devastation with their viruses. But I saw differently.”
“Do you think I really care?” Leon asks. Every fucker he’s dealt with has to have some monologue. He’s so tired of rotten people trying to justify their rotten souls.
“I didn’t think someone like you would understand. You are content with your mundane humanity. But look at what it’s doing to you. You challenge me, yet you stand there dying.”
His grin warps. “That scientist of yours was just the same. He could've joined me. He could’ve lived. Instead, he chose a meaningless, worthless sacrifice.”
A growl begins in Leon’s throat. He hates that Gideon thinks he can understand Luis. None of Luis’ sacrifices were ever meaningless. Luis, no matter what he did, was worth everything.
“Luis was a better scientist than you’ll ever be. He did more than you ever could.”
“Did he?” Gideon muses. “Because, if I’m correct, it is only I who is here, ready to ascend with Elpis.”
“To ascend?” Leon’s laugh is drugged by bitterness. “What kind of bullshit is that?”
“You laugh, Mr Kennedy, because you can’t fathom it.” Gideon wanders over to the machine, where the blackened vial rests. With care, he holds it up to the blinding overhead light. “How could this small vial hold something so powerful?”
“But powerful things have their weaknesses. They have their triggers.” He picks up the fresh blood. His eyes stretch with wonder as he turns it in his hands. “Grace’s blood is Elpis’ trigger. Combined, it can allow one to reach the peak of humanity. It’ll forever shift the balance of the world.”
He waltzes over to Grace again, caressing her hair with a twisted finger. “Grace’s mother would’ve dragged me to those Umbrella trials. Elpis would’ve been left to rot. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Sobs tremor through Grace’s body. The bedsheets are spotted with her tears.
Leon can’t bear it anymore.
“You’ve got a serious God complex,” he hisses. Begging for his hand to stop shaking, he presses down on his trigger. His prayers are answered when blood spurts from Gideon’s neck, and he crashes back into his machine. Leon surges towards Grace with all of his strength, unloading more bullets into Gideon as he does. Gideon roars as the shots burrow holes into his skin. With desperation, he snatches at the remaining vials. He tips his throat back to swallow Grace’s blood.
In matching panic, Leon struggles with Grace’s restraints. Horror dawns as he watches Gideon’s body convulse. His mouth widens with a scream, before it tears across his face. His arms twist away from his chest like tree branches as his skin begins to bubble. Shadows twist across his body as he grows to a mass of spiralling flesh.
Leon knows where this goes.
When the first molten eye bursts through Gideon’s extended arm, Grace is freed. Leon doesn’t waste a single second. He pulls her down, and they stumble out into the halls. Almost immediately, Leon collapses against Grace with a hitched groan.
“Leon, o-oh my god, what is…” Grace stammers. “W-what happened to Luis?”
Her eyes scan across his face, taking in the blood staining his lip and the bruises spreading across his skin. When they see the grief building in his eyes, she’s overwhelmed by a soft, tearful gasp.
“Sorry… just… keep going,” Leon splutters. He hates that he has to lean on Grace, after she was just drained of so much of her life. He should support her. He just can’t.
“O-okay,” Grace replies. She lifts him up and loops his arm around her shoulders. Her brows are furrowed with focus, and though her lip quivers, her limbs don’t shake as much as they did before.
Grace carries him through the next door they find. The room is almost bare, aside from empty cabinets, and firm sofas which idle in the center of the room. Gently, she rests him into one of the cushions. The moment she does, the white fabric is dyed red.
Her feet slip across the floors as she strains to close the door. Eventually, it releases from her grip with a faint thud. As soon as the world is shut out, her terror resurfaces.
“W-what do we do? What is that thing?” She hurries over to Leon. Her hands scramble around him, keeping a distance. Her whole body seems lost.
“Y-you… what’s happening?” She asks.
“It’s the infection,” Leon coughs. “But I can… I can still protect you.”
The way Grace looks at him makes Leon feel like the reckless rookie ordered to not put himself in danger. He wonders how Marvin would feel if he saw Leon now, treating his life with such little care.
“Leon, you can’t even stand,” Grace says. “I-it’s okay to rest. You’ve done enough for me.”
“No, I- you don’t understand,” he grits out. “I need to protect you.”
“Why?” Grace whispers.
Leon closes his eyes. Behind them, all he can see are the people he failed. He sees Marvin’s undead corpse, head blown open. The gun shop owner and his daughter, so innocent and so undeserving of their fate. Raccoon City in ashes. Sherry dragged away. Krauser, disfigured and dishonoured. His team, all slaughtered. Luis, without silver hair and tired lines, dying with a final breath of smoke. Then again, older, but with the same warm smile as he coughs out a confession Leon never thought he’d hear.
“Raccoon City… is where it all started for me,” Leon explains. “I failed so much then. So many people died, and I couldn’t do anything to save them. Again, and again, the people I cared about were taken from me. Even now, I can’t stop losing people.”
Grace nods. She knows who he’s talking about. Luis’ absence is haunting.
“So I can’t fail you.” Leon admits. It’s something he’s never said to anyone. Not Claire, not Ashley, not Luis. The words fall, but he doesn’t have the energy to pick them back up. They echo, again and again.
“I-I get it,” Grace replies. She takes Leon’s hand, and doesn’t flinch when his coughed blood coats her palm. “I felt that way too. W-when my mom was murdered. I couldn’t do anything but watch, and afterward, I felt so useless. Like it was all my fault. Maybe it was.”
“No.” Leon tells her. “What Gideon did..l was never your fault. He didn’t know about your blood then… and even if he did, it wouldn’t have ever been your fault.”
Weakly, Grace smiles. “Thank you. What I’m saying is, I know how you feel. But I still can’t let you throw your life away for me. Be honest. If you went out there, would you win?”
Leon looks away. The lies rest on his tongue. But that’s where they stay. His silence gives Grace every answer she needs.
“I-I didn’t really know Luis, um… not like you did,” she continues. “But I know he wouldn’t want you to do this. He trusted me to survive on my own. Please, trust me too.”
Leon shivers. “You… you can’t… go against that thing.”
Grace squeezes his hand. “Maybe not before. But I think… I think I can try. Gideon didn't take everything he needed. He still needs me alive. But you and Luis still need me too. So I’ll come back.”
When Leon looks at her, he sees himself, when he was so desperate to prove he was capable. Because of this, he knows he can’t convince her otherwise.
“You… you better.” Leon mumbles. “You still have my gun?”
“Y-yeah.” Grace digs into her hop pouch to pull out the heavy handgun Leon had given her before.
“With that… it’ll only take a few shots. But… there’s not many bullets. Don’t go shooting everything.”
“What, like you?” Grace jokes. “I don’t have that good of an aim. It’ll be for Gideon.” She says his name with a snarl overwhelmed by hatred. It’s jarring for someone so soft spoken, but Leon understands it. If anyone should get to kill Gideon, it should be Grace.
“Good,” Leon shudders. “You have my radio. If things go wrong… you call me. I don’t care if you think it’s a bad idea. You call me.”
“F-fine,” Grace answers with reluctance. “But it won’t come to that. I’ll come back with a cure. You’ll be okay. I promise.”
The world shifts, leering off an edge that Leon has never seen. He can’t remember the last time he was the one being consoled. The promises of safety always came from his mouth. No one ever told him he’d be okay. He doesn’t know what to say to it.
He wants to tell her she’ll be okay, too. But she doesn’t need it. In her eyes, determination shines where there was once nothing but hopeless tears. The gun looks less unnatural in her hands.
She stands. Before she can leave, Leon calls out to her.
“Don’t let him get to you. He’ll try to say shit, but remember… you’re better than him. You’re stronger.”
Unevenly, Grace smiles. “I‘ll try.” Then she disappears into the hall, leaving Leon alone.
For a moment Leon waits for the door to reopen. He wants it to. But all he hears are light footsteps echoing further away as Grace slips beyond his safety.
Almost every bone and muscle in Leon’s body aches to follow her; to not leave her to an uncertain fate. More, they throb with agony, with the infection that slows each organ down. He’d barely make it past the door. But he can’t let himself relax, not whilst Grace is out in a place where he can’t save her. Not when Luis’ fate is undecided. The tight knot in his chest wounds itself deeper as he remembers what Luis told him about the plagas. That, once the parasite latched to the spine, there’d be no chance of removal. Not without killing the host.
Leon had never allowed himself to think of a potential future with Luis. There was nothing for him besides their forced companionship; there couldn't be. Afterwards, surely, Luis would run again. Leon would never hear from him again. It never stopped him mourning. But it was a loss he’d expected, one way or another.
Now, Leon has so much more to lose. In Luis’ confession, he saw another life for himself. One where he didn’t wake up alone, where his fears and nightmares didn’t haunt him only because he had no one to tell them to. The comfort of another person was something he’d indulged in only a few times after Raccoon City, but never more than physically. His emotions were too much. Every memory was too much. Even when there were those who understood, it never worked. With Claire, it was because they were no longer young. And, no matter how desperately Leon had wanted Ada, nothing changed the fact they were poisoning each other. The fleeting nights were all they could risk. Leon couldn’t help being bitter; Ada couldn’t help being herself.
Luis was himself too, shamelessly so. But, meeting older, less foolish, made Leon see Luis outside of a lens of youthful love or blind devotion. There was hatred before, so strong it made Leon see Luis as cruel, but Leon had forgotten what that felt like. To Leon, Luis became someone he could trust to see every rotten part of himself, and to still love him despite it all.
Leon thinks back to Ashley’s discovery of the link between Las Plagas and Elpis. Desperately, he lingers on the slim, beautiful hope these findings give him