Chapter Text
Leon
The temporary triage camp had been set up in the shell of what used to be a parking structure.
Floodlights hummed overhead, casting everything in harsh white light. The smell of antiseptic mixed with smoke and metal hung in the air, while medics moved quickly between rows of injured soldiers and civilians.
Leon S. Kennedy stood near one of the support pillars, arms loosely folded, watching the controlled chaos unfold around him.
He had already given his report.
Already checked the perimeter.
Already done everything that could reasonably justify him still being here.
And yet—
He hadn’t left.
Because across the makeshift medical area, Claire Redfield knelt beside a wounded soldier, sleeves rolled up, a pair of medical gloves pulled tight around her hands.
Leon watched as she worked with the quiet focus he had seen so many times before.
Claire had always moved naturally in situations like this.
Where other people hesitated, she stepped forward.
Where others froze, she helped.
It was simply who she was.
She held a piece of gauze firmly against the soldier’s shoulder while one of the medics wrapped a bandage around the wound.
“Hold still,” Claire said gently.
“I’m trying,” the soldier replied with a strained grin.
He was young. Probably mid-twenties. Dirt streaked across his face, uniform torn along the sleeve where the injury had been treated.
But despite the pain—
He was looking at Claire like the injury was the least interesting thing happening to him.
Leon noticed immediately.
The soldier winced as the medic tightened the bandage.
“Man,” he groaned, “I thought getting shot would be the worst part of my day.”
Claire gave him a sympathetic look.
“Sorry,” she said. “Bandages have terrible bedside manners.”
The soldier chuckled weakly.
“Worth it though.”
Claire tilted her head slightly.
“What? The medical treatment?”
The soldier’s grin widened.
“Well… that and the pretty nurse.”
Leon’s jaw tightened slightly.
Claire blinked.
Then laughed softly, shaking her head.
“Oh, I’m definitely not a nurse.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Leon felt something shift uncomfortably in his chest.
He couldn’t quite name it at first.
Just a faint tension tightening beneath his ribs.
The soldier leaned back slightly against the stretcher.
“So what’s your name?” he asked.
“Claire.”
“Well Claire,” the soldier said, still smiling despite the obvious pain, “if I’d known getting shot meant meeting someone like you, I might’ve volunteered sooner.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Please don’t say things like that. The medics will think we’re encouraging bad decisions.”
The soldier laughed again.
Leon forced himself to look away for a moment.
It was ridiculous.
There was nothing happening that should bother him.
Nothing at all.
Claire was helping someone.
That was all.
But when he glanced back—
The soldier was still looking at her like that.
Like she was the best thing that had happened to him all night.
And suddenly the uncomfortable feeling sharpened into something clearer.
Something possessive.
Something tight and unpleasant.
Like watching something that belonged to him slowly being taken away.
Leon exhaled slowly.
That’s not yours.
The thought came quickly.
Sharp. Grounding.
Claire didn’t belong to him. She never had.
He had no claim. No right.
They were friends. Partners in survival more times than he could count.
But that was all.
Leon watched as Claire adjusted the bandage again.
“Try not to move your arm too much,” she said. “You’ll tear the stitches.”
The soldier nodded obediently.
“Yes ma’am.”
He hesitated for a second before speaking again.
“So… Claire.”
She looked up.
“When this is over,” he said carefully, “maybe I could buy you a drink or something.”
Leon felt the tension return instantly.
He looked down at the ground, jaw tightening again.
The question hung in the air.
Claire paused.
For a moment Leon wondered what she would say.
She didn’t answer right away.
Instead she stood up slowly, pulling off her gloves.
Her eyes softened slightly as she looked at the injured soldier.
“Focus on getting better first,” she said gently.
It wasn’t a yes.
But it wasn’t exactly a no either.
The soldier smiled anyway.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.”
Claire gave him a small smile in return.
Then she turned and moved toward another injured patient.
Leon remained where he was.
Still leaning against the pillar. Still watching.
The strange feeling lingered quietly in his chest.
He didn’t like it.
Didn’t like how easily it had appeared.
Didn’t like what it implied.
Because it meant something he had been avoiding for years.
Leon rubbed the back of his neck slowly.
He had always been good at pushing things aside.
Focusing on the mission. The job.
The next crisis waiting around the corner.
It was easier that way.
Safer.
But watching Claire laugh with someone else—
Watching someone else look at her like she was the brightest thing in the room—
It stirred something he couldn’t ignore.
Leon looked across the triage area again.
Claire had moved on to another patient now, kneeling beside a stretcher while speaking quietly with one of the medics.
Completely unaware that he had been watching the whole exchange.
Completely unaware of the quiet war going on inside his head.
Leon sighed softly.
He knew the truth.
He had no right to feel this way.
No reason to interfere with whatever choices she made.
So he stayed where he was.
Silent.
Observing from the sidelines.
Because until he found the courage—
Someday.
Somehow—
To face what he was really feeling…
Watching was the only thing he could allow himself to do.
Rebecca
The supply truck was parked a short distance from the triage tents, its back doors thrown open to reveal stacks of medical crates and sealed containers.
Rebecca Chambers carefully lifted another box of gauze and antibiotics, balancing it against her hip before stepping down from the truck.
Earlier, Claire had asked her to grab more supplies when they started running low.
Rebecca didn’t mind.
Helping the medics had always come naturally to her.
She nudged the truck door closed with her shoulder and started back toward the tents.
Floodlights illuminated the whole camp now, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. The distant murmur of voices, medical equipment, and the occasional groan of an injured soldier blended together into a steady rhythm of controlled chaos.
Rebecca adjusted the box in her arms as she approached the triage area.
That’s when she noticed him.
Leon stood near one of the tent supports, half in shadow.
He wasn’t moving.
Not talking to anyone.
Just… watching.
Rebecca slowed her pace slightly.
Leon’s attention was fixed somewhere inside the tent.
There was something about the way he stood—too still, shoulders tight—that made Rebecca pause.
Curious, she followed his line of sight.
Inside the tent, Claire knelt beside an injured soldier.
Rebecca could see Claire smiling at something the soldier had just said.
The young man looked a little too pleased with himself despite the bandage wrapped around his shoulder.
Rebecca blinked once.
Then slowly turned her head back toward Leon.
There it was.
The look in his eyes wasn’t obvious unless you knew what to look for.
But Rebecca had always been good at reading people.
And what she saw there made something click instantly.
Leon wasn’t just watching.
He was staring like someone witnessing something he didn’t like.
Something he wished he could interrupt.
Something he wanted to stop—
But couldn’t.
Rebecca glanced back at Claire again.
Claire laughed softly at something the soldier said, adjusting the bandage on his arm.
Rebecca looked back at Leon.
And suddenly the whole situation made perfect sense.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
She walked the rest of the distance toward him quietly.
“Hey.”
Leon startled slightly, turning his head toward her like someone who had just been yanked back into reality.
For a moment his expression looked almost… guilty.
“Hey,” he replied, clearing his throat.
Rebecca tilted her head slightly.
“You okay?”
Leon blinked.
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “All good.”
Rebecca studied him for another second.
Then looked sideways at him.
“Are you sure?”
Leon frowned slightly.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Rebecca shrugged lightly.
“Well,” she said casually, “you looked like someone just ripped your heart out of your chest.”
Leon’s eyes widened.
“What?”
Rebecca couldn’t help it.
She laughed.
“Nothing.”
Leon stared at her suspiciously.
Rebecca shifted the box of supplies slightly in her arms.
“You should probably get someone to look at that,” she added.
Leon blinked again.
“At what?”
Rebecca pointed casually at his arm.
The sleeve of his jacket had been torn earlier during the fight, revealing the partially bandaged wound underneath.
Leon glanced down at it like he had completely forgotten it existed.
“It’s fine,” he muttered.
Rebecca hummed skeptically.
“Mhm.”
She started walking again, heading toward the tent where Claire was still assisting the soldier.
As she passed Leon, she added over her shoulder, “Just saying. Untreated injuries can get worse.”
Leon didn’t respond.
Rebecca stepped inside the tent, setting the box down on a nearby table.
Claire looked up immediately.
“Oh good, you found more—”
Rebecca smiled at her.
But for just a second, her eyes flicked toward the tent entrance.
Where Leon was still standing outside.
Watching.
Rebecca suppressed another quiet smile.
Some things, she decided, people had to figure out for themselves.