Work Text:
July 14, 2014
3:00 PM
He stood there in front of large wooden doors, looming over him like a judge waiting for the witness to be called into trial. His blue eyes kept staring at the carved details, admiring the work of the carpenter who spent his days and nights making sure the details fitted the grander design, a large, imposing cathedral amidst the larger modern metropolitan cityscape. It stuck out like a sore thumb, yet it remained an integral part of the rest of the society living within the city.
Leon moved his head to look in both directions, his eyes scanning the area, a form of muscle memory he’s developed over the years of fighting bioterrorism and stopping global threats for the sake of the U.S. of A. He got tired of it lately, and after his recent co-op mission with Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers, courtesy of one worried Claire Redfield after she heard he went back into drinking, Leon was losing any spark of hope left in his body.
He stopped Arias, but that was one piece of a never-ending puzzle. Arias was today, Simmons was yesterday, Saddler was years ago, and Umbrella forever has haunted him, the screams and suffering of those in Raccoon City hitting his head like a hammer, striking the back of it to throb loudly, reminding him that all his life, he’s failed.
Time and time again.
Sherry, I’m going on vacation.
Where to?
I’m not saying. If Hunnigan asks, tell her those exact words.
Okay…enjoy your vacation time, I guess.
Thanks.
Leon replayed his last conversation with Sherry before he planned this “vacation” he was in, breathing into the nostalgic air that he recalled the last time he ever inhaled it was in his childhood, long before his parents were killed for being a part of some mafia conspiracy.
In fact, as he stood in his childhood hometown, there wasn’t much from the time he remembered growing up before leaving to Raccoon City that fateful day in 1998. It looked as modern as it can get for 2014, but he was happy Ricardo’s Pizza still thrived amongst the constant renovation.
Where he stood, though, was another place that didn’t change from his youth: the cathedral was home to both devout Catholics and orphans alike, serving as an orphanage for those who couldn’t find a proper home to call their own. St. Andrews was his home, and quite the home it was for a kid looking to change the world while, all the same, avoiding any duties of being a Catholic.
Not that it mattered to him; he’s sinned plenty over the years, and any notion of religion was thrown out the window the moment any BOW came its way to throw Leon a new pair of boxing gloves to fight in the ring. Since the days of Raccoon City, Leon never bothered to care for religion, but still, a part of him needed to come back to this place, for that nagging religiosity within him needed an answer to his constant fight, missions, and so on.
One of the nuns walked out the door and noticed Leon standing there, his eyes still staring at the cathedral walls. Her face lit up as she somehow recognized Leon despite the stubble, the dirty blonde hair that still maintained the same hairstyle over his entire life, and wearing a sort of blazer with a white button-down untucked and a pair of navy jeans with brown casual shoes. It was not his preferred attire, but it was better than wearing what he’s worn his entire life, especially on missions.
“Leon, dearie, is that you?” The nun’s voice was tender and sweet, and caught Leon’s attention as he looked at the door now, looking straight at the nun’s facial features. They aged, but gracefully, and some of her gray hair was sticking out of her head covering, but the eyes behind her glasses gave him a warm welcome, like a mother greeting her son after a long time not seeing each other.
“Sis Mable?” Leon asked back, wondering if he was indeed recognizing the woman. Only he called her informally Sis Mable, something the nun agreed to only because she cared for the man during his youth, and a big pillar in his childhood before being shipped off to Raccoon City.
“Oh, Leon!” Sister Mable ran down the stairs and greeted the man, hugging him warmly and pinching his cheeks to see how he’s been doing. “It’s been a long, long time! You’ve changed!” She looked at Leon’s hair. “Well, not that much, I suppose. I thought the rock boy look was a phase, you know.”
“Haha, it never was, Sis Mable.”
“You still cracking those one-liners?” Sis Mable asked.
“You already know.”
“Atta boy. I never forget how I taught them to you to impress that girl…what was her name again? Manuela? Christina? Angela? Oh, who cares? I’m sure they’re nothing compared to whoever you’re with today.”
Leon thought about Claire in that moment.
Since his last mission in China last year, Claire has been on his mind. He wondered much about how she was handling TerraSave, as she is the current leader of the organization, after the betrayal of her former boss back on the island in 2011. Nowadays, they…flung around, but in Leon’s mind, it felt like he was doing the same thing Ada had done to him all his life. Being unserious about committing to a relationship, and paired with his return to alcohol, he needed to shape up.
Claire knew what she always wanted, and he knew that Claire was always what he wanted in his life, but the way he was currently, he couldn’t do much for her, and he needed to.
To find some guidance and get him back on the right path again.
“Yeah, for sure. Hey, Sis,” Leon paused for a moment, looking at the door. “Is Father Murphy around?”
“Oh! Yes, he is. He’s inside by the altar. Want to go inside and greet him? It’s been years since you last saw each other after all! I bet he would be delighted.”
“As long as he doesn’t force me to pray on my knees like I was a kid.”
The two walked inside, and as Leon revisited the sight of his childhood, more memories came flooding in. The kids by the benches, praying with all their innocent might, while Leon barely could get a word in before the nuns chastised him. The times he’s sat with Father Murphy, talking about what’s right and wrong, like it was a daily routine, his guidance always giving him a sense of hope by the end, his words always being a part of his routine at the DSO. Fighting for what’s right and nothing more.
Father, I’m going to become a cop.
Oh? That sounds like you.
Well, I have you to thank for that. Pushing me to see the good.
As one should, Leon.
Has he still seen the good after countless fighting, drinking, and throwing himself into any work he can get to avoid having to confront his own damning mind? He felt like the more he went on this road, the more he was losing sight of what was good in his heart.
They reached the end of teh church, the altar now standing before them, and an older gentleman, whose short demeanor somehow towered over Leon, mainly because of how long it’s been since he saw the man. He saw he was much grayer in the hair, but some of his black hair stayed intact, and Leon hoped his brown eyes stayed the same: simple, stern, but kind in nature.
“Father Murphy, I have a special visitor for you.” Sister Mable cheered.
“Oh?” Father Murphy turned around and saw Leon standing before him, who smirked back as a greeting.
“Hey Father, did I interrupt your talk with the big man upstairs?”
“Leon! Always a wisecrack,” Father Murphy chuckled as he went to greet Leon, shaking his hand and patting his arm in comfort. “It has been far too long, my boy.”
“Far too long.”
“What brings you here? Come sit. Thank you, Sister Mable.” Father Murthy waved her goodbye as she nodded and went back to what she was previously doing before Leon had joined the scene. The two men sat on one of the benches, their backs pressed against the wood.
Leon felt like he was a kid again, coming back to a time when there weren’t Lickers, Tyrants, and even a zombie other than what he saw in horror movies.
“Figured I'd visit you before you either retire or kick the bucket to go meet God himself.” Leon joked, pointing at the altar.
“Very funny of you.” Father Murphy chuckled. “I see you took Sister Mable’s advice to heart.”
“I sure did.”
“Yet I know you too well to know that’s not why you’d come visit after nearly twenty years, Leon.”
Leon looked at Father Murphy’s eyes, curiosity in their expression, and yet a hint of awareness. Of knowing Leon S. Kennedy too well for his own good, and rightfully so. Father Murphy was the one who took him in after the death of his parents at the age of eight years old.
He watched him grow up and be the man he was before he left for Raccoon City, before everything. For every birthday, school event, and even being the one to help him with prom, Father Murphy was to Leon as Leon was to Sherry. Present and fatherly in every sense.
Sure, he stopped visiting him since then, drowning himself in work, but he knew in that moment that Father Murphy somehow knew the whole story.
As for how, he would ask some other time.
“Boy, you know me so well, huh, Father?” Leon leaned forward, his hands locked together.
“I’ve seen you grow after all.”
“Not since I left for Raccoon City.” Leon remembered the one and perhaps last time he ever spoke to Father Murphy, the night when he grabbed his Jeep and got rolling to check out the city. His words rang so clearly, even now as he’s staring at the man right in the face.
Leon, stay behind. It’s not safe there.
They need me, Father. I have to go.
I understand that, but they call you to stay back for a reason. You can’t just go in there and expect them to hand you your badge blindly. Who knows what the situation is like.
I don’t care. They need as much help as they can get, and I need to do what’s right. Whatever it takes.
Leon…
I’m going, Father.
“I’ve been replaying our last conversation,” Leon spoke now, his eyes on the floor, ashamed to meet Father Murphy’s.
“Ah, that little debacle? It’s a thing of the past.” Father Murphy waved it off. “All is forgiven.”
“Except it’s not. Not for me at least,” Leon sighed. “Raccoon City was…a living nightmare. So much pain. Suffering. At some points in the night, I asked myself What is God’s plan? What is he doing to these people? To suffer this way?’” Leon remembered Robert Kendo and his daughter now, their faces as clear and vivid as they were back then that September night.
He also remembered the conversation with Jason during the WillPharma incident in 2006, telling Jason the same thing he’d told Father Murphy, and how that moment diluted his hope and optimism, draining it with each mission, failure, and responsibility.
“It was all…so inhumane. The screams of people you couldn’t shut off because you were busy running for your life. The moments where every corner was life or death. It was…hellish.”
“Yes, Raccoon City…that was truly a tragedy in it of itself.” Father Murphy lounged on the bench, his voice soft. “People in our church are also survivors, suffering and seeking answers from God about why he abandoned them in their time of need. Of having to witness the horrors laid bare in front of them. Their survival instincts kicking in, as you said.”
“Sometimes…sometimes Father, I feel like I should’ve listened to you. Stayed here.” Leon felt that was a lie because he knew that, having disobeyed the priest, he would never have met Claire and Sherry, helping them escape Raccoon City and walking into the morning after, hands interlocked, promising to look after each other.
Yet, had he stayed, he never would have met Ada Wong, and witnessed the conspiracies of the U.S. government, being sent to grueling missions, and having to isolate himself from the rest of the world, forever upholding a duty from the abyss.
He was conflicted, and even alcohol could no longer give him the solace he needed.
Leon continued. “The trajectory of my life since that night hadn’t been the same. I keep waking up to the same pattern over and over again. Seeing the same mistakes played out in different forms, with different people. More violence and terror than peace. I keep thinking that things will be different, and they don’t.”
Father Murphy collected his thoughts, listening to every word Leon said to him. He was staying calm, his mind wavering to what needed to be said, and after a few seconds, Father Murphy began to speak.
“You remember when you were eighteen, we studied the Book of Job?”
Leon shook his head and smirked. He remembered that night quite well. They spent the whole night in the same place they were now, after having a quick dinner together. Hours and hours of back and forth between debating and arguing about Job’s suffering and what was deemed right and wrong, and Leon not fully grasping the idea behind God's plan in all of it. Leon still didn't, and yet for some reason, he felt as if he was Job with the constant suffering and pain in his life. The burdens he's carried, and so on.
“Yeah, yeah, I do.”
“Remember how much we rattled back and forth about whether or not God is just? Because of all that Job had to go through in his life?”
“I still think he isn’t. Everything that has happened is living proof of that.”
“Right…right. Raccoon City. Yes. God in many ways is certainly unjust indeed…” Father Murphy paused to collect more of his thoughts, his eyes looking upwards to see what he was about to say next. Leon still didn’t meet his gaze, but felt its tenderness guide him through his current turmoil.
“You see, Leon,” Father Murphy placed a hand in front. “God’s vision is widespread. Ever expanding. Ever…engaging. He appears unjust in one instance to then give man the understanding that it was for a reason. God becomes just in another way to delay the injustice of man down the road. He plays an active role in our lives, and it is our duty to trust and acknowledge his actions, provided our free will remains intact.”
Leon then looked up at Father Murphy, now fully trying to grasp what he had said to him. It was like he was back to being a teenager, his youthful gaze looking back at a much younger Father Murphy, where the black hair was richer in color.
“So then God was just to me, is what you’re saying?” Leon scoffed.
“Pay attention. You see, God put you in positions that, at first glance, seem unjust, and rightfully so. No one should ever go through the nightmares of Raccoon City, yet for those who have, one can argue that they were placed there because God believed they were strong enough to carry his justice to others. That their purpose was to keep fighting for the good of mankind because they saw hell up close and personal.”
Father Murphy then moved closer to Leon now, his body shifting to face him, his eyes looking at the man, now in his mid-thirties, like a child once again, lost and wondering. “What am I saying, Leon, is that God put you through hell not because he didn’t think you needed to suffer. Rather, he tested your conviction and moral responsibility to do what was right. And that, in its own twisted way, can be considered a just act.”
Leon stayed silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts on what Father Murphy had told him. It…made sense the more Leon thought about it. How he sometimes wished he could swap places with someone else in terms of his misfortunes. He sometimes wished so selfishly that it was someone else having to bear the burden of wanting to end their life with a bullet, to end it all right then and there.
How everything in his life had caused him suffering…
And yet, he also believed that maybe he being where he was at that moment in time was for the better. To handle all these burdens because God believes he has the strength to do so, and he knows in the bottom of his soul that it is true.
You haven’t changed. You just think you have.
Ada’s words back in Spain rang into his head, and that was true. He never changed in the end, his convictions grew stronger with each incident, giving me the courage, the strength, and the motivation to keep fighting.
To keep moving forward and ensuring that no one gets to experience Raccoon City or Tall Oaks again, and even if that happened, he’d make sure to stop it no matter the cost.
Even if it meant his life.
He then went back to Claire, and how he met her that night, and has been a part of his life as he was to her’s since then. A match made in heaven, you can say, as Leon was starting to believe these days after he opened up his true feelings about the woman, at least to Chris, her brother.
Yet the day they met, Raccoon City, and doing everything from that moment on…he couldn’t have traded that for anything else, not even for a normal life the more he looked back at everything that’s happened.
Because Claire Redfield was in every way like an angel, one God sent for him to watch over Leon, a testament to how they survived Raccoon City.
“Father, thank you.” Leon thanked.
“You’re welcome, Leon.” Father Murphy placed a hand on his shoulder, his gesture fatherly in his demeanor. “Just…make sure you visit more often, now, okay? Time isn’t being kind to me after all.”
“You don’t look a day over sixty, Father.” Leon joked.
“Reserve those compliments for the sisters.” Father Murphy joked back, the two now getting up from the bench. “And I do hope to continue our theological conversations as well. You were always my best student after all.”
“Why? Because I constantly challenged things?”
“Because you believed in finding the truth.” Father Murphy patted his back now and walked back to the Altar, now heading to the right hallway for his office.
“Oh and by the way,” he stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?”
“Thank that Claire Redfield, for me, will ya? She was here the other day, and I never got around to saying thank you for the conversation we had. She’s also one smart cookie. Marry her one day.”
Leon simply shook his head in disbelief, but nodded all the same.
“I’ll even give her a postcard.”