Work Text:
'I'm getting too old for this,' was a thought that Leon preferred not to touch with a ten-foot pole, lest he wanted the classic middle-aged crisis he'd heard so much about. He wasn't that old. But irrevocably, the sentiment rang true in the familiar pulsing aches and pains racking his body, impossible to ignore, not to mention the ticking time bomb he shared with Sherry from their hellish time in Raccoon City.
He could still feel it. The dying, changing cells and the dark viral roots creeping along his arm, his neck, his whole being; if Leon had been a couple of decades younger, if he had still been that starry-eyed rookie before everything went up in flames and bioterrorism, he'd probably be sleeping under soil and cement.
But that meant he wouldn't be here, protecting people as he vowed. Protecting Grace as he promised.
He failed, again, to keep Emily from becoming one of them. He could not afford to commit the same sin with Grace.
However, upon landing on the decaying bottom of the ARK, his body fought against his will to keep going; the world around him blurred, accompanied by the sudden wave of exhaustion threatening to pull him under after countless hours of fighting. That elbow to the throat from Zeno surely paid Leon no favors.
The T-virus. After years of keeping it under control, of hoping he'd still have the chance to live another day of saving others from this fate, the T-virus loomed over him like the boogeyman underneath his childhood bed. His lungs had to be infested with it, 'cause breathing was suddenly becoming a bitch to do.
Whatever the cause, Leon failed to keep himself upright, the edges of his vision spotting with ink blots, and the last thing he remembered was falling—
Then consciousness returned to him in stages. Slow, painful stages, but Leon had felt worse. The burning, itching sensation up his neck and cheek was nothing new; he expected it at this point, but he would not let it destroy him. Not here. Not when he had a mission to see through to the end.
Not when Grace still needed him.
Maybe it would've been better if he had taken her away himself upon their first meeting instead of digging deep into the doctor's torture chamber of a facility, believing she'd escape unharmed by herself. Maybe it would've saved her a lifetime of trauma and grief. Regardless of her affiliation with the FBI, Grace was still young, inexperienced in the horrific life Leon had lived for 28 years. But God Almighty, for better or worse, she was exactly the way Leon was when this all began.
"Whatever it takes, count me in."
"Whatever it takes to save this city, count me in."
The guilt from Raccoon City still clung to his heart like another parasite. It gnawed and chewed at his convictions, tying him down to the desolation it faced, to the innocent people he failed countlessly. He carried their ghosts with him, and their voices never faded. He muted them out over the years (he had to, or insanity was the next thing on his bucket list of issues), yet he would never forget them. Leon had no doubts he would.
He wouldn't admit it to anyone—at some point, not even himself—but Leon believed he'd atone for everything if he just... Disappeared. If he went out in a whisper rather than a bang, protecting millions and ensuring their future, because he took the monsters and their terror along with him. He'd have made up for all the lives he was too late to save. He'd have made a difference.
But seeing Grace, still afraid, yet hell-bent on their goal despite the heartache and adversities she went through, brought Leon back down to the present. Or verbally slapped some sense back into him. (He could already hear Ada's laughter at the turned tables.)
He might not be that same rookie cop anymore, but that rookie cop still existed in Grace. Hope could still be found.
"If anything happens to me..." he said, meeting her gaze with every ounce of certainty and trust. "You promise you'll end this."
"I promise."
And Grace did. Well, in a manner he didn't see coming. Elpis, as it turned out, was an antiviral—the hope for mankind. For Sherry. For Leon. And Grace brought it forward. (And Leon thought to destroy it; what would've happened if he did?)
Although it took taking a transformed Gideon down for good to clinch the victory, Leon could see the light at the end of the tunnel. The nightmares would finally be over. They did it.
Except Leon couldn't find Grace in the aftermath of the battle. The last time he saw her, Gideon somehow induced ARK to self-destruct, and they'd been forced in a free-fall, because when was life ever that easy? He only had a split second to worry about her safety before diving back into another struggle. Now that the dust had settled, she couldn't be found anywhere. Where was Grace?
"Grace?" His voice echoed, carrying over the wrecked facility. No reply, not even a sound. He pretended that the nerves were from the adrenaline.
"Grace!" Leon should've made sure. He should've stuck with her first, made certain she was okay because Gideon attacked her. She could be bleeding out or worse, all because Leon hadn't been careful.
He tried calling for Sherry, believing she'd help him find the woman he had begun to consider a friend, but no dice. The signal must've jammed, or it failed to reach him from this far down the facility. It didn't help that the place was falling apart at the seams; in no time, the ARK would collapse in on itself, taking Leon and Grace with it.
Just as the familiar tendril of fear reached out to claim him, Leon finally found her, unconscious. Just unconscious. Not dead. You're not too late, Leon.
"Grace!" He spared no time in reaching her. "Grace, hang on."
He knew, to an extent, the damage Gideon inflicted. Grace couldn't stand by herself, hands pressing on the wound to stem the bleeding. The fall from the main platform above likely worsened her injuries. With this thought in mind, Leon triaged; he was no expert, relying on basic first-aid training, but he got the job done. The wound, on the other hand... Shit, it was bad. Nothing life-threatening, though it was still a cause for concern.
He used what little bandages he still had on hand, focusing on patching her up until medevac arrived (if they even realized they were down here). However...
Grace wouldn't wake up. No matter how much he called her name, tried to gently shake her back to awareness, she remained still. Leon... He saw this scene many times. He could see them behind closed eyes, in fatigued moments of hallucination, in the shadowed corners, anywhere he went. People he cared about, people he loved and lost—their bodies overlaid Grace's like a fucked up film reel, but Leon refused to let this be another person he failed again. She came this far to save humanity. She saved him, despite only knowing him briefly. This couldn't be the end for her.
"Grace, wake up," he roughly pleaded, one hand on her shoulder and the other ghosting her cheek. "Come on, get up. Come on..."
Suddenly, the antiviral running through his veins felt like a twisted award. An unfair trade-off. A powerful cure for all in exchange for one innocent life.
"Grace," Leon called again. He'd carry her out of here if he must, but knowing she was okay was his top priority. "Wake up for me, kid, we're okay. You're okay."
For once, his prayers were answered.
"Ugh...Leon...?"
Relief washed away the panic instantly as her eyes cracked open. She's okay.
"Hey, you," Leon whispered reassuringly, allowing Grace some space to breathe. Damn kid, getting into trouble and giving him near-heart attacks. She and Sherry would get along like a house on fire, he bet. "Had me worried there for a sec."
Injuries and exhaustion notwithstanding, Grace had the anxious audacity to say, "Sorry. 'Was just...resting my eyes."
'Ada would definitely like you,' Leon thought in mirth as he huffed out a short chuckle, heartened by the young woman's slow but steady recovery.
Before he could say anything more, the ARK shuddered, a whale song of escalating destruction vibrating above and around them. Sparks flew, and pieces of rubble and clouds of dust fell from different parts of the underground site. No discernible exits as far as the eye could see.
But Leon would not let this place be their graves.
He turned to her, urgently. "We need to get you out of here. Come on, let's get you up—"
In an attempt to carry her like he swore he would before she woke, Leon earned a distressed cry from Grace. Shit, her wound. "I'm sorry, Grace, but we need to go, now."
"I-I can't, Leon, I'm—"
"Yes, you can. I know it hurts, but we'll get help, I promise. Let me help you," Leon tried to comfort, to offer solace and hope the same way she did with the antiviral, with every moment he struggled to get back on his feet, and she was there to wrap his arm over her shoulders. "Just hold onto me."
The ARK was breaking down; he could feel it in his bones. Sooner or later, the lights would die out, and the whole thing would explode. But that was the Negative Nancy in him catastrophizing. He had to keep his wits about him and find a solution. However, he wasn't blind to Grace's strain in keeping upright, curling into herself.
Grace's breathing was heavy, stuttering from discomfort and fear. "Just go, Leon, you can still—"
"I'm not doing that," he immediately rebuffed. They went in this together, and come hell or high water, they were getting out together. "I won't."
More and more, the facility yielded to its demise. Emergency lights flickered off, one by one, and the machinery within creaked and groaned a mechanical death rattle. He stood, watching it all come crashing down while at the same time searching, albeit uselessly, for an escape route, for another miracle. Leon found none.
"There's no way out...is there?"
Grace's disquieted, surrendered voice moved Leon to look her in the eyes. She was afraid, yes, but he could see a part of her asking him what they could do.
In truth, unspoken, he didn't have the answers. Not at this juncture.
He returned to her side, answering her fearful deduction with comfort and camaraderie instead. Something he once desperately needed when his first day on the job brought more death and decay than he anticipated. "Well, I'm not gonna leave your side."
"I'm gonna sit right here with you."
He didn't need to say more. If Grace needed him there, he'd stay until the sun blew up. Nothing short of divine intervention was going to force Leon to abandon her.
So, they both sat and watched everything fall apart in uneasy but companionable silence, bracing for impact. Everything they'd gone through together, it all played in their heads—from every small decision to every monumental choice that led them to this point. The air shifted, electrical sparks crackled, and soon enough, the major lights lost power, shrouding them in complete darkness.
Leon did not know where to go from here. But he could, at least, allow himself the thought that he helped another person in his last moments. That Grace wasn't alone in hers.
"I guess this is it then," she said—
—until a heartbeat later, bright lights from above broke through the dark like a sword slicing through tar, followed by figures in familiar gear that spoke of a man Leon trusted. He asked for help, and it came.
"Leon S. Kennedy?"
"Depends who's asking."
"Mr. Kennedy. I have a message from Captain Redfield."
It was an adjustment, feeling less like death warmed over him for the past 28 years. Ridiculous as it might be, it seemed as if his body aged a little backward in terms of strength and energy. Plus, his back felt way better than it did ten hours ago.
'Ah, fuck, I'm getting old,' he thought until he shut that down before it could get anywhere. He wasn't old, just tired; a huge difference.
Probable healing factor from Elpis aside, Leon was confident enough to believe that Sherry had hope, too, in recuperating from her virus, along with other survivors from Raccoon City. The threat of Umbrella and all of its skeletons would be dealt with. And he had one person to thank for opening the door to that possibility.
Wrapped in a shock blanket and treated for her wounds, Grace appeared much better than before. Granted, the faint bags under her eyes and the shadows swirling behind them might not ever go away after this, but with time and help, she'd make it. She proved thusfar that she could. Leon would be there, too, every step of the way, if she needed it.
"It's over then," he started when he drew close enough for her to hear him.
Grace's smile was small, but all the more real. "Yeah. Elpis really was our last hope."
"Well, let's pray Umbrella hasn't left us with any more nasty surprises."
"Yeah..." she trailed off, shoulders slumping.
"You okay?"
Grace gazed up at him before dropping to the cup in her hands, red-tipped fingers trembling. "I... I just wish we could've saved Emily."
Emily.
The little girl who made her home in Grace's heart in a span of hours, who Grace wanted to escape with, who became someone important to the woman, like family.
(He remembered that little girl and her father, all those years ago. This was his atonement, his second chance.)
"Grace." Leon edged nearer, bolstered by the truth of the matter regarding Emily. Maybe now was as good a time as any. Grace gave him hope, and now he'd do the same for her. "I didn't hit any of her vitals. She could still be alive."
Shock colored her pale face. "Wh-what are you saying?"
"Maybe we can save her." He offered a confident grin, and it seemed to bring back the light that was once extinguished in her. He beheld the kaleidoscope of emotions flitting through her in seconds before he found himself an armful of FBI analyst. His arms were raised, mostly out of surprise, but just as Leon had the thought to return the hug, Grace quickly pulled back, mortification etched on her expression.
"Ooh my god, I, I-I'm so, I'm so sorry, that was-- I didn't mean-- I'm sorry, I—"
"Grace, Grace! Relax," Leon mollified, more amused than anything by the about-face of emotional state. He couldn't blame her, though. This whole thing undeniably took a toll on her. "It's okay. I don't mind."
"Are- A-are you, um, you sure? I just got so happy that Emily would be alright, and—"
Leon rested a hand on her shoulder, cutting her off. "I'm sure. Besides, you look like you needed it, and we just survived by the skin of our teeth."
Grace snorted, "No kidding."
The hug was reciprocated this time, with Leon patting her back in appreciation, and Grace pressing her cheek against his chest, arms slightly tightening around him before relaxing.
(Absently, he thought back to that moment when she had been with Zeno, when Leon thought he had hurt her somehow in trying to get her to remember Spencer's password. Exhausted and confused, Grace had seen him—or whatever she saw when he came to save her—reached out to him, and whimpered, "Mom.")
Grace's smile was much more earnest when they let go. It was enough for Leon to return it.
"Thank you, Leon."
"You're welcome." Impulsively, he ruffled her hair until it mirrored a bird's nest, receiving a surprised squawk in return. "Just rest up; I'll do what I can on my end to get you and Emily the help you need."
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "See you around then?"
"I'll see you," Leon promised; he was sure that Sherry would want to meet the young lady who practically saved their asses. They'd probably make a Girl's Day out of it, leaving old Leon in the dust. "Don't get into any more trouble in the meantime, alright?"
"Me?" Grace smirked lightly. The rookie cop he saw in her seemed even more alive. "Never."
[Many months later]
"You know, for a man who goes through unimaginable horrors like any other Monday, you're awfully nervous about this."
"Yep."
"Not gonna deny it, huh?"
"The last time I interacted with her, I shot her enough to immobilize her, Sherry."
Sherry had the decency to be a little cowed. "Right, you told me that. But I don't think she'll remember that part."
Leon shrugged. Anything could happen, honestly, and if being a mutated creature resulted in some memory problems after recovery, Leon suspected Emily had at least a sliver of what happened before they found her in the rubble.
He could only hope to make up for frightening her.
"Oh, there they are!"
Leon whirled his head around to find Grace and Emily, hand in hand, approaching their spot on the park bench, the latter wearing clothes befitting a normal girl. The most notable part was Emily's eyes; she didn't have cataracts anymore, and he presumed it was because of Elpis. The details were a bit fuzzy, and Leon could only gather so much without being heavily invasive. Whatever the case, the girl looked better. Healthier. Happier. They both did.
Carefully holding the teddy bear in his hands, a precious gift he meticulously picked out for Emily (with Sherry's help, of course), Leon vowed to protect that happiness with every fiber of his being.
It was always in his nature, after all.