Chapter Text
Grace
The hallways stretch beyond Grace, an uncertain end of nothing but closed doors and shadows. Her footsteps are drowned out by the vicious, inhumane roars that tear through the walls. With every quiet step, the screams become louder.
Nothing is stopping her from turning back. Leon would want her to.
But then Leon would die. Again, Grace would be forced to watch someone who deserves to live die in her stead.
She grips the gun until it marks her hand red. She can’t let Gideon live. Not after what he did to her mom.
For years after Wrenwood, the only emotion known to her was grief. Any others were left to drown under the tears that never stopped falling. Her mind was nothing but a broken loop of that night, a forced reliving of the end of her hope. All Grace felt was her mom’s cold blood on her face, the crackling flames. She was sinking, and didn’t care enough to struggle against the heavy tide. She didn’t know why she should. Her mom was dead. She’d watched it happen. There was no resurfacing.
She was pulled out anyway. Work was the only respite, a distraction for her mind so it’d have no time to remember. She crammed it full of other cases, other murders, in a futile hope that the details of her mom’s murder would be misplaced with the methods of others, until she couldn’t remember how it happened. She just wanted to sleep at night.
Sleep never stopped being restless. Grief soon became guilt as her dreams reminded her of every mistake she’d made that night: the answered phone call; the tears her mom had to wipe away; her distracting panic that made it so her mom didn’t see the axe. If only she’d been braver.
Now, it’s anger that shoves Grace forward. It burns through her muscles, glowing through her skin until it melts the feelings of fear. She realises it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been brave. Even if she’d guided them out of Wrenwood herself, nothing would’ve changed. Gideon would’ve still found a way to kill her mom.
Whatever it takes, she’ll find a way to kill Gideon in return.
“I’ll do this for you, Mom,” Grace whispers. “You’ll be able to rest.”
When she rounds the next corner, Gideon’s waiting for her. Seeing what he’s become makes her stomach twist into disgust. She can’t help the gasp that slips between her teeth. Gideon’s arm is now spiralling from its socket, the skin twisted like the body of a nail. More pus-filled eyes grow from his arms and chest, each watching Grace with perverted glee. His body is crushed against the ceilings. His coat sticks to his skin. The rot in his mouth extends through his cheeks.
When Grace raises Leon’s handgun, it trembles in her hands. How could her blood do this to someone?
Could this happen to her?
“Grace,” Gideon hisses. His voice grates along his tongue. “You see it now, don’t you? The power within your blood.”
Don’t let him get to you.
Grace bites her tongue to stop a sob.
“I’m indebted to you,” Gideon continues. “Because of that, I can let you live. Elpis lives through you after all.”
“S-shut up,” Grace replies. “I have n-nothing to do with you or your virus. My blood can help people too.”
Gideon's smile twitches. “Yes. With it, we can help people reach their true potential.”
“Not like that.” Grace retorts. Sensing Gideon’s apprehension, she steps closer. The gun keeps its balance. “Luis used it as a suppressant. It slowed Leon’s infection.”
Gideon jerks back. His skin writhes against his bones. The bulbous eyes pulse as if ready to burst.
“You didn’t know it could do that, did you?” Grace realises. “You thought all it could do was mutate Elpis. B-but it can do the opposite.”
Shaking, Gideon stumbles towards Grace. As much as her heart jumps to retreat, she can’t. With still hands, she keeps Leon’s handgun latched onto every one of Gideon’s slight, unstable movements.
When Gideon seethes, he drools thick, black gunk from his lips.
“You’re lying to me,” Gideon hisses. “I’ve dedicated my life to researching Elpis. I understand it more than anyone.”
“Then you failed,” Grace replies. She’s poking a hornets nest. But the disbelief contorting Gideon’s morphed features, the fear she’s seen only in herself, makes her foolishly brave. “You did all this for nothing.”
Gideon charges towards her. His arm impales the floor, too close to burrowing into her leg. Fumbling with the gun, she staggers back. With the way Gideon is shifting, it’s near impossible to aim. Only when Gideon takes a second to retract his arm does she have a moment to shoot.
Her arm snaps back as a bullet burrows into one of Gideon’s eyes. It bursts, gushing a viscous orange. Gideon reels back, his mutated arm spiralling out of control. It carves through the wall. In panic, Grace ducks, but it still catches onto strands of her hair. She shakes.
In this small space, it’s only a matter of time before his frenzy wounds her. She has to keep moving. She can’t be close.
With Gideon distracted, Grace takes the chance to create more distance. Her shoes screech in alarm against the tiles as she slips around corners until she can’t anymore.
Heaving, she presses her back against the walls. They hold her close.
It doesn’t take long for Gideon to recover. The floors quiver underneath his large mass. Every one of his imminent footsteps rattles through her bones. She stays close to the wall, hoping, maybe, she can blend into it. But her white t-shirt is stained deep red and faint black. Her blood makes her seen.
“Give up, Grace!” Gideon yells. “You can’t hide for long!”
He’s right. Grace doesn’t know these hallways. When Gideon was dragging her through them, she could see nothing past her panic, a blurred haze in front of her eyes. No matter how far she ran or how silently she hid, Gideon would find her eventually.
But she remains caught on the wall like a prime cut on a hook, ready for butchering. Her mind can’t make her muscles move.
The longer Gideon has to hunt for her, the more he taunts.
“Remember your mother, Grace?” he shouts. “Remember how she ran from me, how she hid? I’m sure you know how that ended.”
When Grace doesn’t surrender herself, he continues. “But if only she didn’t have such a pathetic daughter. Maybe, she’d be here to protect you. It’s a shame I had to kill her so quickly. She would’ve been a much more worthwhile fight, I’m sure. Someone worthy of Elpis.”
His mocking pounds a dull ache into Grace’s back until bruises form from the pain. Shaking, she whispers to herself what Leon told her. It’s not her fault. But, when not built with the strength of another voice, the words are fragile. Her sobs are stronger. She struggles to breathe against them, fighting against a tsunami that collects all of her failures and regrets inside its waves to make sure she drowns.
Luis had chosen to help Grace. Because of that, he was left to die. Leon, who trusted Grace with the little strength he had left, would die because of her too. Even in his infected state, he wouldn’t cower like this.
For a moment, she wonders if, had Luis still been with them, alive, whether Leon would’ve let her go. The moment Leon was without Luis, his despair crept back, incessant, stronger. Even if Grace wasn’t an analyst, she could see what Luis meant to Leon. What losing him meant. Maybe, Leon didn’t care enough anymore.
Even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be his fault. It’s Grace’s fear that’ll let Gideon release Elpis. Her mom died to stop nothing.
Grace hangs her head. When she looks down at her feet, the blank tiles of the underground laboratory drape themselves in a deep red. The sharp lights soften to the gold of the Wrenwood Hotel. Her hand that holds Leon’s gun is smaller and empty, until another slender hand takes it.
When Grace looks back up, she sees her mom. Cast in the subtle, warm glow of lamps that aren’t really there, Alyssa looks so beautiful. She always was. But there’s things that tell Grace this isn’t a meeting after death, or a gracious return to the past. It’s a memory, where Grace can’t place the exact shade of her mom’s eyes, or the precise tilt in her smile. But the feeling of her hand is real. Against Grace’s ear, whispering with gentle understanding, her mom’s words are real. They’re what she said to Grace that night. Words Grace didn’t think she deserved to hear, that were almost forgotten after years of self loathing and guilt.
You’re my hope, Grace. Don’t you ever forget how much I love you.
Grace sniffs, and holds onto the person who isn’t there. She doesn’t beg for her mom not to leave, because she knows she will. This isn’t the first time Grace has seen her after her death. It’s just the only time she’s appeared as she was in life; kind and wonderful, rather than dead and cruel.
Grace blinks, and she’s holding the gun again. Instead of her mom, she hears Gideon’s mockery. He’s too close. Fear remains in her bones, moulded into her tissue. But despite it, she can win.
“Grace!” Gideon calls. Now, Grace responds to him.
“I’m here!” She shouts back. Waiting, Grace steadies herself against the wall. She raises the gun, remembering how Leon held it. She waits for Gideon to sniff her out.
A fox to a hound, Gideon follows the scent of her voice. When he sees Grace, he grins, all teeth, salivating.
“Found you.” Gideon sneers. He rushes forward, crashing his arm into the plaster walls, faster than before. Even when expecting his attack, Grace can’t dodge in time. Gideon tackles her down, crushing her under his heavy body, and wraps a sharp hand around her throat. The handgun dislodges from her hold. She gags, writhing underneath him. Gideon digs his knuckles deeper into Grace’s windpipe. But she can’t push him off. Flexing her fingers, she strains for the handgun’s grip, feeling it against her fingertips, tauntingly close.
Just as darkness begins to overwhelm Grace’s sight, she manages to grasp onto the gun. Faint, she can only lift it slightly, but Gideon can never resist getting too close. Even just at an angle, she aims straight for the eye bulging from his shoulder.
“Get off.” Grace gurgles. The eye pops, and Gideon’s hold around Grace’s neck loosens. This momentary weakness is what Grace needs. With every ounce of her strength, she aims a kick at Gideon’s abdomen.
It doesn’t send him crashing across the room, but it gets him off. Grace scrambles up as Gideon wheezes. But before she can shoot again, the winding mass of roots stemming from Gideon’s socket shoots forward and tears a scrap of skin from Grace’s arm. She screams. Tears of red weep from the wound. To Grace’s disgust, Gideon lifts his arm to his mouth, and lets her blood drip into his mouth like sweet syrup.
Shivers crawl across her body, but she tries not to let her discomfort show. Knowing Gideon for the freak he is, it would please him.
Raising her arm ignites agony underneath her skin, but, like she’d expect Leon to, Grace aims again. The handgun recoils. Grace careers back, but so does Gideon. He bleeds from his leg this time, a stream of black ink onto grey skin.
It’s a waste of a bullet. Leon told her not to waste any bullets.
For a moment, the skin around Gideon’s wound bubbles, twisting into something even more grotesque, his skin becoming like ashen tree bark. Grace watches in horror as, then, his body expands, pressing even further into the ceiling, until she can’t see his vicious grin. Whatever human form he took is lost with every second. Gideon laughs, raw with victory.
“The wonders of your blood!” He cackles. “You were wrong, Grace! I will still become a God!”
But then, he stops. The wound quietens, and the gunshot hole remains. Gideon stares at it, but it still bleeds. Then, he sways, before crumbling in a heap against the wall. As he does, his monstrous arm cracks, and begins to decay into nothing but ash. Then, his entire body begins to shrink and break.
“What is this?” he hisses. “What have you done to me?!”
Grace doesn’t know how, but as it did for Leon, her blood is working against Gideon’s infection. Every mutation caused by Elpis was fighting against the anti virals in her blood. The final, mocking taste he took must’ve doomed him.
Limping, Grace makes her way towards Gideon. She looms over him as he once did her, and feels no fear.
“My blood is a cure,” Grace says. “I told you that. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”
“No! Your blood awakens Elpis, it’s going to make me a God.”
Grace shakes her head. “Humans can’t be gods. Especially not someone like you. What you did to my mom…” she takes a straggling, deep breath. “I can’t get her back. But I can do this for her.”
Gideon continues to ramble, desperate, but Grace doesn’t care anymore. Too long has she had to deal with Gideon’s taunting, his maniacal tirades, his blind devotion to something that never existed. She can’t stand another second of it. Without a word, Grace loads Leon’s handgun with its final bullet.
“Stop!” Gideon hisses. “You can’t kill me. You can’t do anything-”
She doesn’t waste another glance on him. Grovelling as he is now, Grace has never seen someone so pathetic. She can’t believe she let him make her feel so weak. With nothing but a twisted look of disgust, she presses the muzzle to his forehead. His skin melds underneath it like damp clay.
“Rot in hell.”
Grace pulls the trigger.
Leon
It’s been too long. Grace isn’t coming back. Leon’s sure of it.
Not that he can discern the time. He doesn’t even know where he is anymore. The room is shadowed by a black fog. Every breath he takes twists into a cough. Everything that ached before, now feels numb.
Dying is not as bad as Leon expected. In his line of work, death was usually violent and gruesome. It meant torn limbs and exposed organs, being chewed down and processed in the stomach of a monster, or becoming the monster yourself. Leon doesn’t even think that’s what’s happening to him, not anymore. He’s not turning. He’s just dying.
But it can’t be peaceful. He thinks of Grace, and how he failed her. How she fought out there, all alone, and how Leon let her go. How, in the end, he couldn’t make a difference. Coming back to Raccoon City made him the foolish rookie he was before. He could never leave that version of himself behind.
At least, in the haze his eyes are seeing, Luis appears as an oasis, distant and beautiful. Leon doesn’t have to see him as a monster.
But then someone is grabbing his shoulders. They shake him, but their touch only ghosts against Leon’s body. His ears are full of nothing but the soft thuds of a slowing heartbeat, so he can barely hear the pleas for him to wake up. He can’t feel the coldness of their tears as they hold him close. He doesn’t feel it when they let go.
But then, there’s a lingering pinprick in his arm. In his ears, his blood pulses as his veins fill with the blood of another. When he groans, he hears the other person gasp. The sound is soft and familiar.
“Grace?” Leon whispers. He strains to open his eyes. When he does, he doesn’t see blurred darkness, but Grace. Red stems from a wound on her arm, and her face is raw with tears. Black gunk coats her top, smearing across her cheek. Her hand is warm around Leon’s, real and alive.
“Oh, thank god!” she weeps. “I-I thought you wouldn’t wake up.”
“I was just resting my eyes,” Leon mumbles. Groaning, he sits himself up. When he looks down at his forearms, they’re no longer blackened by bruises. The ache of the infection is nothing but a phantom pain. It doesn’t feel suppressed. It’s gone.
“Well, you scared me.” Grace sniffs. “I’m so glad it worked.”
“What… how did…” Leon begins. But he can’t formulate the words, his mind still lost from wandering close to death.
“When I was fighting Gideon, I realised something,” Grace explains, “Elpis isn’t a virus. I mean, it is by itself. But my blood was never meant to awaken Elpis as some mutation. It awakens it as a cure. But Gideon had to take it twice for it to have effect.”
Leon stares at her. The mention of Gideon causes concern to etch into Leon’s brow. Grace quickly continues.
“Gideon’s dead. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”
Relief shudders through Leon’s body alongside pride. Grace is no longer the timid, stuttering girl he met just a few hours ago.
“I knew you could do it, kid,” Leon smiles. “I hope you gave that bastard everything he deserved.”
“I think so,” Grace mirrors Leon’s warmth. “I… definitely feel better.”
“That’s good.” Leon moves to stand. The movement is easier with his body no longer as worn, but he can’t help stumble. When he does, Grace is there to steady him with untrembling hands.
Grace might’ve changed. But, Leon hasn’t made the change he wanted. There’s still a fate he needs to alter.
“Grace,” he begins. “I’m… I want to be selfish, for a moment.”
Stifling desperation builds in his chest. Within it, there’s guilt. Grace has been through so much, and Leon has the audacity to ask her for more.
But, Grace shows no resentment when she meets his eyes. There’s only an understanding that quietens all the ugly feelings in Leon’s chest.
“You want to save Luis, right?” Grace asks. Leon shouldn’t be surprised she knew. After all, he has no reason to hide how he feels anymore.
“Yeah. I… couldn’t save him before. But now, I can make this difference. I have to.” He sighs. “But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. You’ve done enough.”
“I want to.” Grace is certain. “Luis helped me too. If we can save him, we will.”
“Okay,” Leon breathes out. “We need to go now, then.”
Grace nods. But she still keeps her hands gentle on Leon’s shoulders. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’m feeling like a million bucks.” There remains a shy throbbing in his muscles and head, but it’s nothing he can’t work through. When he gives Grace a weak thumbs up, it’s enough to console her. She lets him go.
“Do you remember how to get out?” Grace asks. “I didn’t really pay attention.”
“I should,” Leon replies, as they make their way back through the corridors. It’s easier now that the sterile lights don’t pulse in his head. The walls are as personless as before, but at least Leon doesn’t have to lean against them to keep upright. As they pass locked doors, he debates kicking them open, seeing what evidence might lie inside. But, whatever’s left, the extraction team can find. Luis is his priority.
For Grace’s sake, Leon’s glad they don’t pass Gideon’s corpse. It’s hard to face something you had to kill, even if they’re no longer a person. He doesn’t want Grace to have to stomach that.
At least they make it out of Gideon’s laboratory faster than Leon expected. But when they ascend to the ruins of the orphanage, it’s lit by a dull morning sky. Early sunlight catches dust and ash in its glow. Without shadows, there’s nowhere for each bloodstain to hide.
But, rather than feeling warmth from the early sunlight, a cold dread creeps into Leon’s chest. It felt like only an hour since he’d held Luis and begged him not to be stupid. He can still hear Luis’ rough whispers, as if the confession was only just said. It can’t have been this long.
His panic must be more obvious than he wants it to be. Grace reaches for him to comfort.
“I-it’s fine,” she mumbles. “You held out for this long. I’m sure Luis did too.”
She’s trying. But, it’s not the same. Leon only lasted a night of infection. Luis had to resist the parasite for twenty years.
Leon doesn’t want to tell her that. Not when he can sense the fear stalking her, waiting for a moment to latch on and crawl back in. So he swallows every strangling worry caught in his throat.
“Yeah,” Leon mumbles. “Luis is strong. He’ll be fine.”
He has to be. It’s all Leon wishes for as they make their way back through Raccoon City. During the day, the emptiness of the city feels more unnatural. There’s no undead, and there’s no people. How wrong it looks without people filling the streets, without the smell of oil and engine, of greasy vendor stalls and mingling perfume and aftershaves. The silence is eerie in a place which should’ve been full of car horns and loud shouts, early arguments and laughter and embraces. The shop windows that are now nothing but broken glass should be crowded by curious eyes looking in. There should be queues in front of the hollow doorways, and hands held whilst crossing burnt away pavements.
He couldn’t save these lives, or this city.
But he can’t drown in guilt forever. Not when he has the chance to amend the mistakes he made here.
“Leon?” Grace whispers. “This is the place, right?”
When Leon stares ahead, it’s at the warped gates leading to the RPD. Even in the light, the building appears to Leon as dark and haunted. He still can’t look at it without seeing every person he failed.
“Yep. Place of my dreams,” Leon croaks. Again, he falters by the gates.
He can’t wait to never have to come back here.
The RPD, like the streets, is mostly devoid of life. Corpses lay a path for them, but these bodies don’t wake up. The few undead that still roam aren’t anything to Leon, now that he has his body and mind back. They barely manage to begin a groan before they’re shot in the head. The ones he doesn’t spot, Grace does.
Not for the first time, Leon thinks they make a good team.
Yet, their existence is a lingering threat not to Leon’s body, but to his sanity. He can’t help but look at the blood staining their mouths, and wonder if any of it is Luis’. Only Grace’s short, nervous quips distract him.
Through shattered windows, the light struggles through, and Leon realises he never got to see the RPD like this. To Leon, these halls were a pitch black cemetery. But, now, he can almost see a fragment of what the other officers had. Their daily lives flash in front of him, and he mourns what he never knew.
Grace’s stare bores a pitying hole into the side of his head.
“Sorry. This place will always get to me.” Awkwardly, Leon laughs. “I would’ve liked it if Luis picked anywhere else to hang around.”
Just as nervous, Grace giggles. Then, she averts her eyes, and worries words into her lip.
“I don’t mean to push, but I was just curious… I mean, are you and Luis… well…”
Leon raises an eyebrow. He didn’t expect her to be so forward with it now, but, if Leon is dragging her back into hell for this man, she should be allowed to ask.
“You noticed, then?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like it was obvious.”
Leon shrugs. “Well, I’m a little too old to be going around pretending. Although, maybe I’m a little too old for any of this.” He pauses. “Do you find it strange?”
Grace blanches. “Why would I? You can love whoever you want.”
At that, Leon laughs again, hoarse and real. “No, not like that. I don’t care about that anymore. I just mean… Luis and I… we knew each other for nothing more than a day. It must look a little stupid, to care so much.”
He really doesn’t know why he’s saying all this. Maybe, it’s the countless years he’s dedicated to resenting how much he feels, and to wishing he could feel less. To hoping he could just move on, and being blinded by anger when he never did. Maybe, he wants to be told this isn’t a bad thing,
Grace, patient and kind, gives him what he wants. “I don’t think so. You two went through a lot together. Trauma bonds people, doesn’t it? At least, I think we’ve bonded. Haven’t we?”
“Yeah, we have.” Leon confirms. After this, he hopes they’ll stay in touch. He doesn’t want Grace to be left alone with these memories, and the nightmares sure to be moulded from them. If she ever needs someone, he’ll make sure to be there.
“Good,” Grace smiles. “I don’t think I’d want to just never talk to you again, anyway.”
“People don’t usually tell me that. I guess my jokes are finally landing on someone.”
With a deadpan look, Grace replies. “Oh, no, those suck. But you’re a good person, Leon. I think… I think we get each other.”
She’s right. When they’d met, Leon couldn’t separate her from the other people he’d tried to save, those who needed him. But, where he was seeing Ashley or Sherry, he should’ve been seeing himself. Grace is the rookie he wished he could’ve been. Maybe, she’s the rookie he really was, but couldn’t notice.
“You’re a good person too, Grace,” Leon tells her. “I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened to me if you weren’t here. So, thanks. For that, and for this.”
“It’s okay. I don’t know if I’d ever do it again-“
The ceiling shudders, shedding clumps of plaster. They both jolt to look up. Like the ceiling, Leon’s heart shakes, because he knows what comes next. It won’t stop pounding, desperate and hopeful and terrified. Even as they rush towards the stairs, he can feel it under every inch of skin. Every beat is a prayer.
Grace makes it back to the third floor first. From her sharp inhale, Leon dreads what she sees. When she stumbles back, he’s left vulnerable, under the crossfire of what lies before him.
It’s Luis. He’s there. But when he looks up, he’s never felt so far from Leon. His body twitches like it’s not his own. In his eyes, Leon only sees blood. The black veins mottle every inch of his skin. If Leon hadn’t committed all of Luis to his memory, he doesn’t know if he’d recognise him.
Leon’s heart almost stops beating. All he can do is feel his world crash around him as Luis stares at him as if he’s a stranger.
As if he’s prey.
When Luis begins to stumble towards them, Leon can’t raise his gun. Even though he knows it’s what he should do. He’s trained to kill the dead. But he latches onto hope as if it’s an IV drip, the only thing keeping him alive. They still have a sample of Grace’s blood. Luis isn’t attacking, not yet. He’s not lost completely.
“Leon, what do we do?” Grace whispers. She glances at the gun quivering in his hands. “You’re not going to…”
“We need to use the sample of your blood,” Leon says. “You stay back. I have to do this.”
Leon wants to tell her not to hesitate if Luis attacks. But he doesn’t know if he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know if he’d let her.
“Will it work?”
“It will.”
Grace nods. Trembling, she places the syringe of her blood in Leon’s hands. She steps back with her finger ghosting against the trigger of her handgun.
Leon turns back to Luis. Even when turning into something else, Leon can still see the man he loves, somewhere in there.
He doesn’t let go of his breath as he walks closer. He can’t risk startling Luis, in case it forces Grace to release the trigger. Not until he’s sure he can use the syringe before Luis can use his teeth.
Almost, he can’t bear to look. Luis is worse than he and Ashley ever were. He doesn’t want to think about how long Luis was like this, or how long it took for the zombies to recognise Luis as one of their own.
But he keeps his gaze locked onto Luis, so he can catch when Luis’ bloodshot, distant eyes finally find him. The snarl that rips through Luis' throat aches to hear, and the pain is near unbearable when Luis reaches to hurt him. But Leon won’t hesitate. This time, he won’t make another mistake.
When Luis claws onto his shoulders, Leon struggles. The grip is tighter than he expected. It’s a good thing Leon has always been stronger. With a strained groan, he rips himself away from Luis’ grasp. He angles the syringe. When Luis next lunges for him, Leon plunges it into Luis’ arm. Even as Luis twitches against it, he pushes it down until it’s empty.
As Luis stops writhing and his eyes glaze over, Leon whispers a million prayers.
Please don’t do this to me. Please. I need to save you.
A tear forms in his eye, stinging and cold. When Luis goes still, Leon lets it fall. He falls against the wall, and presses Luis close to him. He hears Grace approach. Even her footsteps echo with pity.
Once again, Leon’s going to have to leave Luis’ body in a place he can never go back to. He’ll have to move on with life, and pretend not to mourn over something he could never have. Something, this time, he was so close to. Every mistake, once again, presses down on Leon’s mind until his head caves in. If only he’d found Luis earlier. If only he hadn’t been infected himself. If only.
Leon lets himself stay with Luis for longer than he should. Every passing second will make letting go harder. But Grace doesn’t move him away; she lets Leon remember Luis for the final time.
But then, as Leon readies himself to let go, Luis breathes. It would be missed, if Leon wasn’t so close. Again, Luis inhales as Leon gasps.
When Luis strains to look at Leon, it’s with the softness of humanity. His eyes are a quiet silver, and Leon doesn’t ever want to look at anything else but Luis in his arms, tired but alive.
“Why’re you manhandling me, Leon?” Luis whispers out, hoarse. “At least take me on a date first.”
“You-“ Leon starts. Relief overwhelms him so much he almost chokes on it. “Is that seriously all you have to say? I thought you’d died, and you’re… god, what is wrong with you?”
Leon means to sound stern, because how could Luis joke like that? But the shed tears wet his words, so they come out as nothing but soft. Even Luis, as fatigued as he is, can sense the reluctant fondness in Leon’s exasperation.
“My bad. Thank you for saving me, mi heróe.” Luis sighs wearily against Leon’s chest. Though his tone is light, his eyes are warm with genuineity. “I didn’t mean… to worry you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Leon mumbles. Everything feels so warm.
“Oh, thank god,” Grace says. Leon jerks his head to see her looking down at them, now with a knowing grin.
Enveloped in the feeling of Luis breathing against him, Leon honestly forgot that Grace was there. Now, he’s worried it won’t just be Ashley or Luis’ teasing he’ll have to deal with.
Seeing Grace, Luis smiles with ease. “You’re okay, senorita. That’s good.”
“I’ll be more okay once we’re out of here, I think,” Grace replies. Gently, she lowers herself next to them. After a moment, she rests her head on Leon’s shoulder.
“Oh, shit,” Leon curses. Through all the overwhelming emotions, he’d also forgotten about the extraction. He’d forgotten he cut Ashley off.
“What’s that for?” Luis hums.
“Ashley is going to kill me.”
“The senorita?” Luis shifts away from Leon’s chest to lean against his shoulder, so he can glance at Leon with confusion. The angle and the wide curiosity in Luis’ eyes makes Leon’s stomach twist. Annoyingly, he has other things to worry about.
“She’s been working with Hunnigan. But I cut the radio off.”
“Oh. Well, I wish you luck.”
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Leon says.
Under his breath, Luis mumbles something about having his own person to apologise to later. Leon can only imagine it’s Ada, and feels as if Luis he might want to keep some of that luck for himself.
“Who’s Ashley?” Grace asks as Leon restores connection. Before he can answer, Ashley does herself.
“Someone who’s very mad right now! Leon, you better have a good reason for cutting us off, again.”
The bad connection doesn’t dampen her anger. It crackles against the receiver, so strong Leon worries the radio might break.
Leon’s sure Grace whispers good luck under her breath. Luis only laughs, comfortable even when weak. Again, Leon’s stomach bursts into a bouquet of butterflies.
Thankfully, Ashley hears Luis too. Any frustration of hers dies the moment she does.
“Luis?” she whispers.
Luis casts a silent demand for Leon to lower the radio towards him. Without a second thought, Leon complies. When Luis speaks to Ashley, it’s with the softness he extends to Grace, only choked up by years of missing her.
“It’s nice to hear from you again, Ashley. I’m sorry you had to deal with Leon alone for so long.”
“Okay, I’m taking that back immediately,” Leon mutters. But Luis pouts, and Leon folds.
“I’m so glad,” Ashley nearly weeps. “Are you okay? Leon told me about the parasite but… is it gone?”
“I hope so,” Luis replies. “I mean, it hurts to move, and I’d kill for a nap right now. But hey, I can talk, and in the lap of a very handsome man. Isn’t that right, Sancho?”
He winks. Leon’s mind blows a fuse. He didn’t know such cheap flirting would make him react like that. He must be deprived.
“Gross, super happy for you, don’t ever make me hear that again.” Ashley gags. Grace does the same, even half asleep.
Leon rolls his eyes.
Then, delicately, he brushes a curl out of Luis’ face. He doesn’t feel a need to stop himself.
“You know you can rest, Luis,” he mutters. “I don’t think extraction will be here for a while.”
“Mm, and miss this view?” Luis catches Leon’s hand, and intertwines their fingers.
“Hunnigan sent for extraction the moment you disappeared on us, actually,” Ashley interrupts. “She’s here too, you know.”
“I never thought I’d have to hear any of this on the clock,” Hunnigan sighs. “Please, remain professional. I need updates on your situation.”
“Right,” Leon coughs out. He forces himself to look away from Luis, just for a moment. “Gideon’s been dealt with. Sorry, it wasn’t possible to apprehend him alive. But I can give you the coordinates to his laboratories after extraction. All the evidence should be there.”
”That’s fine. Good work as always, Leon.”
“As much as I’d love to take credit, Grace Ashcroft is the one who put him down, and figured out that her blood was a cure for Elpis. She might be needing a raise.”
Though, as incredible as Grace was, Leon has a feeling she’d never want to leave her desk again. Fighting one bioweapon was probably enough for her.
”That’ll be something to discuss with the FBI,” Hunnigan says. “Though, Miss Ashcroft will have to be taken in for further questioning and testing regardless. If her blood cured you and Mister Serra of your viruses, who knows what it could do for others.”
At Mister Serra, Luis hums in amusement. “Didn’t think I was a Mister-“
“Yeah, I know.” Leon interrupts before Hunnigan can hear Luis’ teasing. He doesn’t need her to have any reason to be against Luis. It’s been long enough that, most likely, Luis’ charges will be easily forgotten. But Leon can never get too comfortable. He needs as many people on Luis’ side, just in case.
Leon had a feeling, too, that Grace wouldn’t be freed from this mess just yet. Later, he’ll break the news to her. For now, he’ll let her sleep. Nobody has deserved the rest more. More, she deserves to rest properly, away from the cold debris of Raccoon City. Luis needs it, too. His joking and smiles can’t mask the fatigue that still clamps down on his muscles and bones. This isn’t a place for recovery.
”How long will the extraction be?” Leon asks.
“Half an hour, at most,” Hunnigan replies. “Can you hold out until then?”
Leon pauses. He glances at Grace, her breathing whispering softly into sleep. Then, Leon looks down at Luis. His eyes are struggling to remain open, but he doesn’t look away from Leon.
Before, this focus might’ve made Leon shrink, in fear he’d be too seen. Now, he returns Luis’ gaze without shame.
“Yeah,” Leon sighs. “We’ll wait here for you.”
“You better tell me everything later, Leon. A full report! Don’t spare the details.” Ashley pipes up with a smile. Then, quieter, “I’m still mad at you. But I’m more happy you’re both still here.”
“I’m glad too,” Leon agrees. “I’ll see you soon, Ashley. Thank you.”
“You really owe me.” Ashley hums. Then, the radio disconnects. Finally, Leon unknots the twists binding his muscles and heart. With a deep sigh, he relaxes against the wall. Half-mindedly, he parts his fingers through Luis’ hair, as the other man breathes out.
Before Luis can drift off, Leon whispers to him. “Hey, Luis?”
Luis hums. “Thought you wanted me to rest, Sancho.”
“Did I say that?” Leon muses. “I remember you saying you’d stay awake for the view.”
“Mhm. Before I realised how big your ego would get if I really did that.”
“I hate you.” Leon grumbles.
It’s such a lie. Leon doesn’t remember how it felt to hate Luis. It was such a weak feeling compared to the intense adoration he now feels for the man collapsed against his chest.
Luis knows it too. “I don’t think you do. I think you like me a lot. Lucky me.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. Lucky you.”
Luis snickers. Mellowness then washes over him. “After this… I’m still wanted by the government, Leon. You know that.”
So Luis hadn’t forgotten, either. But, Leon won’t let Luis be taken away. Not now, not after all of this. Not after he saved Leon’s life twice, in more ways than he could imagine. Leon would do everything to make sure Luis got to live the rest of his life as he deserved, without the guilty memory of Umbrella and parasites.
“We’ll figure it out together.” Leon pauses. “If that’s what you want.”
“Of course I do, Sancho, no need to be so nervous. Do you?”
“Yeah… you don’t know what you do to me, Luis.”
“Hm, I might have an idea.” Luis smiles. Tentatively, he reaches up to brush his hand across Leon’s cheek, rough hands catching onto short stubble. “But, lucky me, I have a lot more time now to find out now, don’t I?”
With just as much care, and because he doesn’t want to be the only one melting under touch, Leon takes Luis’ hand back, and presses a chaste kiss against his wrist.
“Dios mio,” Luis breathes out. “Suddenly you’re a romantic?”
“You’re not doubting me, are you?” Leon smirks. “I’d actually kiss you if your mouth wasn’t covered in blood.”
“Ah. I can wipe it off?”
Leon laughs against Luis’ hand. “You’re still going to taste nasty.”
He doesn’t overthink the phrasing. Luis seems too tired to catch onto it.
“You know, I heard nothing’s more romantic than a bloodied kiss.” To prove a point, Luis puckers his lips. It’s so juvenile. Leon feels so young again.
“Fuck, I’m not accidentally getting involved with a vampire, right?” Leon asks. “Do I need to start a garlic free diet?”
If Leon’s being honest with himself, he just wants to save these things. To reassure the slight nervousness within him that, even after they go home, Luis will be waiting for him, and for this.
“You got me, Sancho,” Luis grins. “Please, sacrifice garlic bread for me.”
Then, he sighs, and melts into Leon’s hold once more, yawning against his chest. “Well, this gives me much to look forward to. You better kiss as well as you do in my head.”
Then, immediate, he curses under his breath. “What are you saying, Luis?”
“Should I be flattered you’ve been imagining that?” Leon asks. For someone so suave to be so loose lipped, Luis must be really tired. In this rare moment, Leon revels in not being the only one flushed and red.
“Of course. So you better not lead a man on, Sancho.“
“I’d never,” Leon reassures. “Now, seriously, rest. I don’t want to have to listen to you whining about being unable to sleep on the chopper. Trust me, those things are not comfortable.”
”Mm, but you are,” Luis hums. To make a point, he adjusts so he lies even deeper into Leon’s chest. “I’ll have sweet dreams.”
“You’re so weird,” Leon scoffs. But, as Luis drifts off, Leon leans down to place a kiss against Luis’ temple. Luis tastes of slight muck and grime, but Leon doesn’t really mind. He breathes in a mingling aftertaste of cedarwood and warmth and relaxes, knowing he can now. Luis and Grace are safe. He’s made the change he never thought possible.
There’s so much he stills wants to say to Luis. But, he has the time to mould the words to be said as truly as he feels, with his love embedded fully within them.
For now, Leon leans his head back, feeling the cool air against his face, and both Luis’ and Grace’s warm, peaceful breaths against his skin. He watches the sun melt against a crystalline sky, and waits for the extraction team to guide their way back home.