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The house rattled, shaking on its foundations. Light flickered through the curtains and illuminated thin strips of the room like camera flashes, burning images into its occupant’s eyes. It was so easy to imagine the silhouette of something human in the afterimages, lurking just behind the cracked doors of her closet or in the corner beyond her desk.
“I’m ssssorry…a mistake…”
“Wrong….wrrrooong.”
Another rumble, another creak of the foundation. So close to the sound of shuffling footsteps, of something massive hauling its bulk down the hallway.
“Don’t…fuck…with me!”
She sat up in bed, heart racing, breath coming in shaky pants, her chest closing in on itself. It felt the same as fingers around her throat, squeezing down against her arteries.
“Shhh…Rest now, Grace. We have so much to do.”
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The rolling rumble of a thunderclap tore Emily from sleep as she lay nestled in a pile of blankets atop her bed, pulling her from her dreams into a world of complete darkness. A spike of panic rose in the young girl’s chest as she blinked in a vain attempt to drive it back, only to open her eyes once more to inky blackness. It wasn’t supposed to be dark, not in her room. Grace had gotten her a nightlight for that exact purpose, so that if she ever opened her eyes in the middle of the night she’d never be trapped in a sightless world again. The calming amber glow was absent now, leaving her alone in darkness.
With a soft huff she shoved the blankets off and rolled towards the edge of her bed, pawing blindly for the cord on the lamp that rested on her bedside table. Her hand flailed in the dark as she strained forward, then pitched over as she leaned too far off the side of the bed. The beginning of a cry bubbled up in her throat before she slammed into the padded surface of the rug that covered her bedroom floor, wincing as the impact jolted her into adrenaline induced awareness. Emily felt her eyes sting as she scrambled to her knees and patted the ground, her movements growing increasingly frantic until a sudden flash of light made her throw her hands up over her face. The blinding light stung her eyes and forced her to scramble back until the wooden frame of her bed knocked against her upper back, but despite the initial shock the bright light offered a small smidgen of comfort. Even as the crack of thunder shook the house Emily felt her heart still ever so slightly, its hammering pace not ceasing but slowing down marginally.
“I-it’s just dark,” She murmured, raising her palms up to her face and focusing her gaze. It took an agonizing moment before the silhouette of her hands became visible in the darkness of her room, but Emily smiled weakly as she glimpsed the faint outlines of her fingers. “It’s just dark,” She repeated as she turned and rose to her knees, then stretched her hands forward until she felt the wooden surface of the bedside table beneath her fingers. Slowly she crept her fingers upwards until she reached the top, stretching until she felt the cool metal of the lamp that rested on the tabletop. With shaking fingers she grasped the lamp’s chain and pulled, only for it to click uselessly.
“Oh, no.”
Emily whimpered, tugging on the chain repeatedly. Each time yielded the same result, the bulb refusing to provide its soothing glow. Finally, Emily let go and scooted back from the table, her pulse quickening once more as she curled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Despite the initial panic of awakening in darkness having receded, she could still feel the crawling sense of dread squirming in her stomach. It reminded her of sitting in her cell and listening to the muffled sounds of screaming from outside, then hearing nothing at all. The silence afterwards had been worse, leaving her alone until an unfamiliar voice had called out.
“Grace,” Emily murmured, muffled by the soft fabric of her pajama bottoms. Her eyes flicked towards the wall of her bedroom, then trailed along the faint outline of the picture frame that hung there. The photo within- a selfie of her and Grace seated on a blanket in the grass- was invisible in the dark. She still remembered when it was taken during their first visit to the local park. It had been her proper first time outside, her first time standing under the sun without one of the care center orderlies lurking somewhere in the background, and her first time without the walls of the courtyard boxing her in. Next to it was the door to her room, and before Emily lost her nerve she forced herself to rise to her feet and make her way towards it.
Her bare feet padded over the soft carpet as she walked forward, arms outstretched so she wouldn’t crash into the wall. Another flash of lightning lit the room and provided her with a split second to gather her bearings before the crash of thunder made her flinch. A whimper slipped past her lips as she hurried towards the door and yanked it open, her thin arms straining as she pulled the door aside and poked her head out into the hall. It was as dark in the hallway as it had been inside her bedroom - perhaps even more so, thanks to the lack of windows- and what little bravery Emily had been able to scrounge up wilted almost immediately. The small girl retreated backward into her room, hugging her arms around herself as she peered into the cavernous dark space of the doorway and called out, her voice soft and broken.
“G-Grace!”
Emily’s cry was met only with another bright flash and the near instant crash of thunder. She yelped and ducked her head as the walls shook, rattling her picture frame as she covered her ears. “Grace,” She cried once more, only to be met by silence this time. She hugged herself tighter and held her breath as her heartbeat pounded in her ears, thumping steadily against the inside of her skull. Seconds dragged on forever in the darkness as she waited for any sort of sound to indicate Grace’s presence. All she could hear was the rain beating down against the outside of the house and the rumble of distant thunder.
“Grace,” She whimpered one last time. When no response came again Emily took a deep breath and steeled herself, then peered out of the doorway once more. She looked right and then left, peering down the hallway towards Grace’s bedroom. It wasn’t far, only one door down past the bathroom, and yet somehow the distance seemed utterly impassable in the dark. Emily stood rooted to the spot, one small hand clutching the doorframe of her room, until another flash and a deafening boom shook the house. Before she could properly register it her body made a choice for her and sent her sprinting down the hall, her spindly legs carrying her over the floorboards to Grace’s door. She grasped it like a lifeline and twisted the handle, then shouldered her way into the room with a gasp, her eyes already beginning to burn with unshed tears.
Before she could call out for Grace, however, a searing light engulfed her. It wasn’t the sharp and sudden flash of lightning - this was something else, a constant and intense beam that forced her to scrunch her eyes closed and look away. Dots of color bloomed behind her eyelids as she blinked and shook her head, disoriented and shivering.
“O-oh shit, Emily!”
The sound of her mother’s voice snapped Emily back to alertness, and gave her the strength to open her eyes despite the pain lingering in her eye sockets. She blinked several times before focusing on Grace, who knelt opposite her behind the bed in the center of the room. A flashlight, clutched in her left hand, cast a harsh white glow around the dark room as Grace held it angled downward towards the bed. Emily felt a faint sense of relief flutter behind her ribs at the sight of her mother and moved to take a step forward, only to pause as she properly looked at Grace. She was dressed in her usual white night shirt, yet the garment was soaked through with sweat and clung to her body like a damp sheet. Her hair was tousled and matted, and her eyes seemed wrong, unfocused and distant as she stared at Emily from the other side of the bed. Every few seconds Grace’s gaze flickered from her, darting left and right at random. Finally, Emily took notice of Grace’s right hand, hidden out of view behind the bed in a manner that could have only been deliberate. Her stomach sunk as she and Grace stared at one another, the former standing stock still and the latter shivering behind the bed.
“E-Emily, come h-here,” Grace spoke at last, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. Under any other circumstances her words would have been enough to send Emily flying into her arms, but something kept the young girl rooted in place by the door, her breath quickening as Grace stared at her from across the bed.
“Emily!” Grace repeated, her tone sharper, her words slipping through her teeth almost like a hiss. Emily retreated back a step, a small gasp slipping past her lips as she did so. Grace seemed to shudder at the sound of it, and focused her wide eyes on Emily for the first time since she’d stepped through the door. The woman’s lips were trembling as she looked at her, and Emily could hear the sound of her heavy breathing as she dropped the flashlight onto the bed and held out her hand.
“E-Emily! Please, I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry I…please, s-sweetheart, come here. I-it’s not safe.”
Grace choked out, her stutter coming on in full force as she stretched her hand out towards Emily. The sound of her mother’s panicked voice and the sight of her straining forward across the bed, her features ghastly and sharp in the harsh contrast of the light, was enough for the tears that had been straining against Emily’s eyes to fall. Sniffling as hot tear tracks rolled down her cheeks, Emily clutched at herself and whimpered, then glanced around the dark room.
“W-what? What are you talking about?”
She pleaded, her voice barely more than a whisper. Grace’s expression contorted as she spoke, twisting into an agonized frown as she continued to reach out for Emily.
“T-there’s s-someone in the h-house!”
She answered at last, barely intelligible as her stutter grew stronger. Emily felt a shiver of dread run down her spine at the words, yet despite them her mind crept back towards the hallway outside of her room. She’d heard no sounds of footsteps, nor had she felt the presence of anyone or anything in the shadows. All that she’d heard was the sound of thunder, the rattle of the house, and her own whimpers.
“Grace…you’re scaring me,” She choked out, nearly breaking into a sob as she looked around the room once more. She couldn’t shake the sense of wrongness in the air, nor could she look at her mother without feeling her stomach twist. From the other side of the bed Grace gripped the sheets with her left hand, still keeping her right hidden from view as she did so, and shook her head.
“Emily, it’s not safe! P-please, you n-need to come here, y-you n-need to l-l-listen to me!”
Grace didn’t speak this time, she screamed, her voice hoarse and desperate. Emily jolted back, her eyes wide with panic and her throat choked with sobs. Something was wrong, this was wrong, and despite being unable to put words to it Emily knew that Grace herself was wrong. Her eyes flickered towards the nightstand by Grace’s bed and settled on the black, gleaming outline of her phone, laid out next to her keys and FBI badge. All it took was one last glance at Grace for her leap forward and snatch it, her hands trembling as she clutched the phone to her chest and wheeled around, then bolted from the room. As she raced back down the hallway to her bedroom, panting and sobbing, Emily could hear the wails echoing from Grace’s room behind her. It took everything she had not to turn around as her mother screamed for her to come back, her desperate pleas continuing even as Emily slammed the door to her room and crawled back into her bed, seeking hollow comfort in the weight of her blankets. With shaking fingers she punched in the passcode to Grace’s phone, which she had been given in the event of an emergency, and opened the contacts app. Choking back a sob, Emily scrolled down to the L section, and pressed the call button.
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Leon awoke to the droning sound of his cellphone vibrating on the nightstand, and groaned softly against the plush surface of his pillow. Before Grace had dosed him with Elpis in the depths of the ARK his sleep had been fitful, interrupted by bouts of pain and coughing. Now, despite months having passed, it seemed that his body was still making up for lost rest. For the briefest moment he was tempted to simply close his eyes and nestle closer to the warmth of the body pressed against his own, but the selfish desire faded even faster than it had arisen within his mind. Carefully Leon sat up, moving gingerly to shuffle out from under the arm draped across his bare chest, and moved to sit at the edge of the bed. Blinking his bleary eyes at the bright glow of the screen, Leon peered down to see Grace’s caller ID. Leon cleared his throat, then answered the call and brought the phone to his ear.
“Grace? What’s wrong,” he asked, his words gravelly and mumbled as he shook the remnants of sleep off. Idly he glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand and noted the time, 2:47am. The numbers on digital display made the back of his neck prickle as he awaited Grace’s response, pondering why she would call so late at night. It was unlike her to reach out often, much less at odd hours. The silence on the other end of the phone only heightened his sense of unease, and he scowled slightly as he leaned forward, resting his free hand on his thigh and squeezing. “Grace? Answer me.”
“P-Papa?”
Leon’s eyes widened as the soft, shaky sound of Emily’s voice met his ear. Immediately he sat up, straightening his back and relaxing the muscles in his jaw before he began to speak. “Oh. Hey, Emily. What’s going on, why’re you up so late?” He prompted, his voice far softer than before. “Sorry if I scared you, I thought your mom…”
“I-it’s ok,” Emily’s reply cut him off before he could finish. Immediately the tone of her words caused Leon to raise an eyebrow, each syllable sending more prickles down the nape of his neck. Emily’s words were shaky and weak, quiet even for the normally shy girl. He could hear a wetness in her voice as well, as if she’d been crying only moments before.
“What’s up sweetheart, talk to me,” Leon repeated, keeping his voice level as he listened to the line. Emily let out a sniffle, then broke into a sob, her tiny voice keening out of the speaker. Leon felt his heart shatter at the sound, the sensation akin to the feeling of hacking his own lungs up in the bowels of the ARK.
“I-it’s G-Grace,” Emily whimpered at last, forcing the words out between sobs. Leon felt his stomach sink even further as he heard the young girl utter her name. Grace was Mom to Emily unless something had her terrified. “S-somethings w-wrong w-w-with her.”
Leon was on his feet before Emily finished choking out her words. Flickers of bared, bloody teeth and grasping fingers filled his head. Words like latency, spoken by cold and clinical doctors, echoed in the depths of his brain. He’d caught something back at the beginning of this nightmare, he had nearly been destroyed by the lingering T-Virus swimming in his bloodstream. It wasn’t out of the question that Grace might have contracted something too, something more virulent. Leon turned and marched towards the door to his bedroom, forcing himself not to imagine the thought of Emily trapped in a house with something that wasn’t her mother anymore. He was almost at the threshold when Emily spoke up again, just as soft as before.
“S-she’s crying a-a-and she says it’s not safe, and that there’s somebody here! A-and it’s r-really dark and…and I-I don’t know…”
Leon paused in his tracks as Emily began to sob openly, his pulse slowing even as he listened to the young girl cry. He took a deep, steadying breath before turning and leaning against the doorframe, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Hey. Hey, Emily. It's gonna be just fine. Your mom’s gonna be just fine, ok? I’ll be over soon, twenty minutes tops,” He assured. “I’m gonna hang up the phone for just a minute, and I’ll call you as soon as I’m in the car. Ok?”
“O-ok,” Emily murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “T-thanks L-Leon, I’m s-sorry…”
“Nope, none of that.”
Leon countered immediately, his tone light. “You did the right thing calling me. I’m really proud of you. Be there soon, ok? Pinkie promise.”
With that, Leon ended the call and walked back towards the bed, moving quickly yet quietly to his nightstand. He set his phone down on the table, then reached for the small dish beside his alarm clock. His fingers brushed over smooth, cool metal as he gingerly plucked a silver ring from the dish and slid it onto his ring finger. As the metal band settled against his skin the sound of rustling fabric and a faint, sleepy hum drew his eyes towards the bed.
“Mmm…what’s got you in such a rush?”
Leon couldn’t help but smile, even with the hint of worry beneath the otherwise casual comment. With a slight smirk- a genuine one this time- tugging at his lips, he leaned over the bed, resting his right hand on the mattress as his left reached out to caress a tuft of silky black hair.
“Just checking up on a friend,” he murmured, only to shudder as he felt thin and dexterous fingers slide over his own. The hand grasping his own held him there briefly, its touch longing but no longer tense, before it slid away and let him stand back up.
“Alright then, Superman. Go save the day.”
Leon laughed openly at that, the sound raspy but strong, and found that when he looked back to the bed its occupant was smiling alongside him. He spared her one last glance before stepping back and walking towards his closet, committing the sight of red silk pajamas and deep dark eyes to his memory. Almost losing this, almost losing her, had given him all the more reason to savor even the smallest details.
“Get some sleep,” he hummed as he opened the closet, opting for one of his many long sleeved compression shirts and a simple set of black cargo pants. With the clothes tucked under his arm he headed for the door, only to pause one last time and glance back into the bedroom. “I’ll make up for it when I get back,” he promised, running a hand through his hair to push it back from his eyes. “I’m thinking maybe I'll drop by Marigold’s, pick up some of those muffins you like.”
“Well, don’t you know the way to a woman’s heart?” came the reply from the dark, a well concealed chuckle barely audible in the speaker’s dry tone. “Love you, Leon. Drive safe.”
“Love you too, Ada.”
Rain poured down in sheets against his windshield as Leon guided his car through the empty streets of outer Knollville, its engine purring beneath the steady drumbeat of droplets. The temptation to press his foot down against the accelerator weighed heavy on him, yet Leon resisted. Every deep puddle and rain-slicked patch of asphalt kept him centered, reminding him that he wouldn’t be any good to Grace or Emily wrapped around a telephone phone. That logic did nothing to assuage the tightness in his chest, especially not when Emily sniffled through the speakers of his dashboard.
“Leon, I-I can’t hear Grace anymore,” the young girl murmured over the phone. “W-where are you?”
“Almost there, sweetheart,” Leon replied, forcing his tone to remain light and easy as he blew through a stop sign. He couldn’t be bothered by traffic violations right now, not when he was already pushing his twenty minute deadline. “Just turning into your neighborhood now.”
The tires of his Porsche spun for purchase as he took a corner, his earlier restraint with the accelerator falling to the wayside. The car responded immediately, surging forward over the soaked blacktop and eating up the distance between him and the next intersection in seconds. Leon braked and gripped the wheel, guiding the car around the corner with as much speed as he could manage as his headlights finally illuminated Grace’s street.
It was pitch black. If not for the headlights, Leon wouldn’t have been able to make out the parked cars a short distance away, but for once in his life the all-encompassing darkness prompted him to let out a light sigh of relief. He readjusted his hands on the wheel, flicked on his highbeams, and then slowly began to drive forward.
“Emily,” he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road but focusing his attention on the sounds of the young girl on the other end of the line. “I just pulled onto your street. Looks like the power’s out everywhere, the storm probably just took out a line. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Leon continued, hoping that the sense of calm in his own voice would transfer to Emily. The explanation for the loss of power might not offer too much comfort to a child, but to Leon it meant everything. The whole drive over a thought had been scratching at the back of his mind, forcing him to consider if the lights had only gone out in Grace’s home. He’d had the power cut on him too many times to be naive enough not to know what usually came after. He had no doubt that Grace knew the same.
Emily didn’t respond with anything more than a wordless murmur, leaving Leon to return his full attention to the road as he drove by house after house. Finally the glow of his headlights reflected off of a familiar dark gray Prius, and Leon tapped the brakes to pull in alongside it. With a fluid motion of his hand he shifted into park and unplugged his phone from the car, then lifted it to his ear. “I’m right outside Emily, hold tight.”
With that Leon hung up the phone one last time and stepped out into the driveway, shivering as the unforgiving hail of raindrops immediately drenched him. Rivulets of water ran down his leather coat, soaking the fur collar and chilling his neck as they seeped beneath it. Gritting his teeth against the storm, Leon withdrew a flashlight from his pocket and switched it on, then hustled to the back of his car to open the rear door. Tucked under the driver’s seat was a small battery powered lantern, which Leon pulled free and bundled safely under his coat before locking the car and advancing towards the house. Grace’s place was a modest single story home, painted in a generic shade of white and lacking much in terms of personality. The front lawn consisted of nothing but patchy, cropped grass and a concrete driveway, and the house itself was practically identical to the others around it. Still, it was leaps and bounds above the dark and stuffy apartment she’d lived in before, especially for Emily. Privately, Leon had hoped that the extra room would be good for Grace as well.
His boots splashed in the puddles of water accumulating on the walkway to the front door as he approached, sweeping his flashlight from side to side with his left hand to scan the darkness around him. The relief of seeing that it was merely a power outage couldn’t undo the years of muscle memory, nor the creeping paranoia that perhaps something out of the ordinary was wrong with Grace. Leon swallowed heavily as his mind drifted back to that dreadful possibility, and the weight of his Matilda IMP tucked in the holster below his shirt suddenly felt more pronounced. Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, Leon reached out for the door, only for it to swing open before he could grasp the handle.
Standing in front of him, dwarfed by the looming doorframe and practically glowing as his flashlight beamed down on her pale skin, was Emily. The girl stood hunched over, both of her small hands clutching a smartphone while the stuffed bear that Ada had gotten her months ago was squeezed beneath her right arm. Her brightly colored pajamas, picked out by her specifically to avoid any resemblance to the sterile white gown she’d worn at Rhodes Hill, provided the only color about her. Her face was even paler than normal, and Leon could see that her knuckles were white from how hard she was gripping the phone. Before he could make a move or even speak, Emily flung herself at him and wrapped her arms around his legs, clinging closely to him and letting out a hiccupping sob. Immediately, Leon reached down and scooped her up, allowing her to cling to his shoulders as he artfully cradled her, his flashlight, and the lantern all at once.
“Hey. Hey, it’s alright, I gotcha,” He cooed, stepping into the house and kicking the door shut with his foot. Emily sniffled into his jacket in response, heedless of the freezing rain still pouring off him, and tightened her hold on him. A sympathetic sigh left Leon’s chest as he slowly spun back towards the door and locked it, then reluctantly pried Emily off of him and set her back on the floor. He then crouched down to her level, suppressing the urge to groan as his hips protested the motion.
“Here,” Leon spoke as he withdrew the lantern from beneath his coat and stitched it on. Light flooded the living room, driving back the shadows and properly illuminating Emily. Leon could see the girl’s eyes widening in the light, and with an easy smile he handed the lantern over to her. Emily took it hesitantly, her hands shaking marginally less as she held it close to her chest. Leon chuckled, then carefully reached out to brush a strand of her hair from her eyes. “Figured you could use something to lighten the mood.”
A small, watery laugh bubbled up from Emily’s chest, bringing with it the faintest hint of a smile. Leon returned it, then slowly glanced around the living room before turning his attention back to Emily. “Better?”
“B-better,” Emily echoed, nodding meekly as she cradled the lantern and then craned her neck to stare down the hallway leading deeper into the house. Leon followed her gaze, peering into the darkness beyond the living room and narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see into it. Nothing emerged from the hallway, no shuffling forms or unnatural groans. Once more he turned back to look at Emily, pushing away his worries once more.
“Can you tell me what happened?” He prompted, watching as Emily curled in against herself further and shrugged her shoulders. For a moment it seemed as if she wouldn’t speak, but after one last glance at the lantern she looked back at him with her wide gray eyes.
“I woke up a-and it was dark. I got s-scared, and I went to get Grace b-but…but she was …all weird,” Emily mumbled, her lip beginning to tremble as she recounted the night. “S-she was saying weird stuff, and she looked r-really scared too, and I g-g-got scared and I ran and…”
Leon put his hand out and gently gripped Emily’s shoulder, stopping her as he saw the beginnings of tears welling up in her eyes. He squeezed softly, focusing his gaze on Emily and hoping to keep her attention on him. “That sounds really scary, and you’re so brave for calling me, ok? You did great, Emily. Now, can you wait right here for me while I go check on your mom?”
Emily stiffened under his hand and clutched the lantern tighter, then glanced down the hallway before nodding shakily. Leon could see the fear in her eyes, but couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with pride as she pulled him into one last hug and then trotted to the dining table. She clambered up onto one of the seats and set the lantern before her, then watched Leon owlishly from her perch. Slowly Leon got to his feet, rolled his shoulders, and pulled his flashlight from his pocket once more before setting off into the house.
The interior of Grace’s home was unfamiliar to him. He’d been inside once several months before, carrying boxes and moving what little furniture Grace owned out of her old apartment, but since then he hadn’t set foot inside. Grace and Emily always visited his and Ada’s house instead, or met in a public place, and even when he would pick up Emily when Grace was stuck at the office he’d always wait outside. Part of it had been a desire to give both of them their privacy, to spare them a fraction of what he’d endured after surviving the hell of Raccoon City. The prying eyes of government agents, the constant sense of being observed, and the bugs carefully hidden in his apartment. Looking back, it had been easy to see why he’d dived down the bottle. He’d wanted to keep that from Grace, to let her and Emily have something in the world that was truly theirs. Now, he was beginning to think he’d made the wrong decision.
The details were small, almost inconsequential, but with Emily settled his mind had time to properly take in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed were the piles of paper set about the living room. Some were stacked up on the coffee table by the couch amid used cups, others were piled on the shelf between the small kitchen and the living room itself. He paused briefly to thumb through one, noting that the papers looked to be a mix between FBI case files and printouts from online forums. Words like outbreak, Umbrella, and conspiracy stuck out to him, some highlighted in yellow marker. The sight of copious piles of documents wasn’t something unusual when it came to Grace, he’d seen her workspace over at the Midwest Field Office after all, but she had always kept the clutter contained to one specific area. To see it spread outwards gave him pause, and deepened the pit that was beginning to grow in his stomach.
As he stepped into the kitchen, carefully checking corners with his flashlight, the sensation only grew worse. The sink was piled with half washed dishes and the faint, sickly sweet smell of decay lingered in the air. Leon stepped forward deliberately and lowered his hand, pulling the sliding garbage can from its cupboard beneath the sink and grimacing slightly. Old food and takeout boxes rested in the bag, not yet rotten but just on the verge. He would have paid no heed to it if the smell didn’t remind him of days long past. He scanned the kitchen counters briefly and breathed a sigh of relief when all that greeted him were half empty cupboards and unwashed dishes, not bottles. Then he moved on, gliding out of the kitchen and into the hallway, the floorboards creaking softly beneath his boots.
With each step Leon’s scowl deepened, and the pit in his stomach deepened as well. He recognized it all- the clutter, the neglect, the slow pace of decay. It was nowhere as bad as he had let it get before, back when he subsisted on bottles of cheap liquor more than he did food, but it was there. He had started the same way, letting the little things slide and throwing himself into work to distract himself from them. He could name the pit in his stomach now, recognizing the sensation of guilt as it reared up inside him.
“Oh, Grace.” He muttered, coming to a stop at the end of the hallway. Before him was the door to Grace’s room, firmly closed without a hint of light shining from beneath it. Leon steadied himself and then raised a hand, rapping his knuckles against the wood. “Grace? It’s Leon, can you hear me?”
There was no response, only silence undercut by the din of the storm. Leon listened closely, holding his own breath and practically pressing his ear to the door. Still, he heard nothing. Slowly, Leon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then reached out for the handle. “Grace, I’m coming in.”
The door creaked as he pushed it open slowly, allowing him to look into the bedroom that lay beyond. The beam of his flashlight fell on the bed first. Its covers lay untucked and tangled- one pillow scrunched against the headboard while the other rested on the floor. The two nightstands on either side of it were covered in clutter, piled high with papers, loose pens, and various odds and ends. Leon glimpsed an empty bottle of melatonin gummies resting on its side on the table closest to him, carelessly discarded at the table’s edge. Next he swept his flashlight across the room, checking the corners of the space before holding the light on Grace’s desk. It was in the worst shape of all, stacked with documents to the point where it looked like the rattle of the thunderclaps above might cause the whole thing to collapse. Leon sighed and pushed the door open fully, only to freeze when a soft whimper hit his ears.
“Grace,” he called out, sweeping the flashlight to and from, searching for the source of the sound. Carefully he stepped into the room and glanced around, eyeing the desk and the bed once more, and even glancing under it before he heard the sound again. He turned to the left side of the room, illuminating the door to a closet with his flashlight. Soft, almost inaudible sobs echoed from behind the closed door, intermixed with quick and shuddering inhales. Slowly Leon approached, allowing his full weight to settle with each footfall in order to make his steps audible, and crouched by the door.
“Grace? You in there?” he called softly, resting his palm against the smooth surface. “It’s Leon, can you hear me?”
For a moment there was no response, only the pattering of the rain and the crack of thunder above. Then, so softly that he could barely hear it, she spoke.
“Leon?”
The word was weak and hoarse, and followed immediately by another shuddering sob. Leon swallowed, his eyes boring a hole into the floorboards.
“Yeah, it’s me,” He called back, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible through the door. “Can you come out of there for me, Grace? Please?”
A louder sob was all he received in response. Leon shook his head, quietly chastising himself, before looking back to the door and trying once more. “Can I come in?”
The sobbing from the other side of the door didn’t cease, but it did grow quieter, tapering off until Leon could make out an unsteady sound of agreement. He angled his flashlight down towards the floor, then slowly slid the closet door open, careful not to bang it against the wall as he did so. Huddled in the far right corner of the closet, partially hidden behind several hanging coats, was Grace. She sat with her back to the wall and her knees drawn up to her chin, both arms encircled around her shins. Her face was flushed with emotion and soaked with a mix of sweat and tears, the mixture shining in the glow of his flashlight. She stared at him with wide, red rimmed eyes, and her shoulders heaved as she sucked down desperate gulps of air. Leon’s focus was not on her features, however, but instead on the shining silver shape of her S&S M232. Grace clutched the pistol in her right hand, pressing it against the dark fabric of her sweatpants as she hugged her legs. The smallest hint of relief washed over Leon as he noted that her fingers rested outside the trigger guard, and that the barrel was pointed at the wall she was huddled against. Even so, he felt himself tense instinctively.
“H-how d-did you…” Grace stammered out, shifting away from the open door and attempting to press herself further back against the wall. Leon remained where he was, neither advancing nor retreating as Grace scuttled back.
“Emily called me,” He answered simply, to which Grace’s eyes widened immediately.
“E-Emily! Emily, s-she ran a-a-away! I-I tr-tried! N-not safe!” She babbled immediately, gasping for air between every other word. “S-someone’s h-here!”
Leon felt his heart drop into his stomach as Grace began to shake, shivering so violently that her gun rattled against her knee. Immediately he set his flashlight down so it pointed against the wall opposite her, illuminating the closet as he slowly raised both of his hands in front of him. “I handled it.”
The words came easily to him, false but not empty. He’d heard enough platitudes and reassurances to know that they didn’t work, not in a moment like this. Grace’s eyes refocused on him, frantic and vacant yet steady. “I handled it, you’re safe now,” he repeated, flashing a smile. “Emily’s safe and sound too. She was really brave, Grace. Really brave.”
“Emily,” Grace whimpered once again, blinking rapidly and glancing over Leon’s shoulder. “S-she ran away, s-she’s all alone, I…I left her,” she continued, swallowing as fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I left her alone in the d-dark.”
“Emily’s fine, I got her. She’s safe,” Leon repeated once more, shifting his eyes from Grace’s to the gun in her hand. He exhaled slowly, then extended his left hand forward with a smooth, measured motion. “The house is secure, Grace. We can stand down, ok? I swept the whole place,” he spoke, keeping his hand extended forward. Grace glanced rapidly between him, his hand, and the gun clutched in her own, her shoulders heaving as she started to hyperventilate. Then she leaned forward and pressed the gun into his palm before shrinking back into the corner, cowering fully as she buried her face in her knees. Wordlessly, Leon dropped the magazine and racked the slide, ejecting the cartridge from the chamber and catching it in his hand before it hit the ground. He then pocketed the gun, its magazine, and the loose round before turning his full attention back to Grace.
“Thank you, Grace,” Leon hummed as he began to move, squeezing himself into the closet opposite her and resting his back against the wall. He sat in silence there for a moment, simply breathing slowly and deliberately, as Grace continued to shiver and whimper opposite him. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before she stopped, then glanced up from her knees to look at him.
“Hey there,” he murmured, offering a hand. Grace hesitated for a moment before grasping it, her grip almost painful as she squeezed his hand. Leon didn’t pull away and kept his eyes on her, watching as her expression began to clear. Her breathing slowed and her grip loosened, though she still clung tightly to his hand. “You with me?”
“I…y-yeah,” came Grace’s croaked reply. Leon watched her take another shaking breath and wipe at her face with her free hand, grinding her palm into her cheek. “Wh-where’s Emily?”
Leon expected the question, just as he expected Grace to try and stand as soon as she asked it. He tugged her arm softly as she attempted to rise, stopping her before she could knock her head against the interior of the closet. Grace went down easily, stumbling to her knees with an exhausted huff as Leon braced his hand against her shoulder.
“Woah there, easy. She’s fine, she’s in the kitchen right now, and she’s ok. It’s you I’m worried about,” he admitted, putting gentle yet steady pressure against Grace’s shoulder. From her place on the floor Grace looked up at him, her eyes momentarily alight with something fierce and instinctive. Whatever it was, whatever rebuttal she prepared to spit out, flickered away as quickly as it had come. Instead Grace slumped further down, a puppet on cut strings, and peered up at him through sweat soaked tangles of hair.
“I f-freaked out, didn’t I?”
Leon had never heard someone sound so small before. As Grace looked up at him, scanning his face for some sort of answer, he found he had nothing to offer. No words of comfort came to him, he couldn't even muster one of his usual jokes. The silence that followed was broken only when Grace let out another sob. It wasn’t one of the shaking, panicked sounds from before. It was deeper, heavier, and exhausted, wracking her body. Again Leon had nothing to say, and so he didn’t speak. Instead he shifted the pressure of his hand on Grace’s shoulder and used it to lightly pull her towards him. She followed almost instantly, slumping against his shoulder as Leon slung his arm over her back and hugged her to his side. Grace shuddered and sobbed, Leon rubbed little circles into her back with the palm of his hand, and neither said a word. Grace didn’t need to, not to him.
Leon shuffled back into the living room a short while later, one hand rubbing at his temples and the other buried in his coat pocket. Grace had cried herself out quickly enough, allowing Leon to settle her back into her bed. Between the emotional exhaustion and crying half her body weight in tears, she’d been out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow. There was a small mercy in that, Leon supposed, thinking back to his own sleepless nights as he stepped back onto the floor of the house’s main room. His eyes shifted immediately towards Emily, who remained perched on the chair she’d planted herself in earlier. Her eyes were wide and uncertain as they tracked him on his path towards the table, and her hands clutched the hem of her pajama shirt hard enough to tremble.
“Is Grace ok?”
Leon paused as Emily spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, and then pulled a chair back from the table beside her. Slowly he sat down, not bothering to restrain a sigh as he did so, before nodding.
“Yeah. She’s ok, she’s asleep now,” Leon explained, pausing briefly to shuck off his coat and hang it over the back of the chair. Emily’s expression didn’t change, but the grip she had on her shirt loosened ever so slightly. Leon hummed wordlessly, then scratched lightly at the stubble on his chin. “She wanted to come check on you, I promise. She just…needed her rest.”
“Is she sick?”
Leon startled briefly as Emily blurted out her question. The young girl stared intently at him as she awaited his answer, hope and terror warring in her eyes. Leon’s breath caught in his throat, briefly stopping him from speaking even as he shook his head.
“No, sweetheart, she’s not. Your mom’s…” Leon began, only to pause midway through his sentence. Instinct told him to reassure Emily, to tell her that everything was going to be ok, but as he looked into her eyes he knew he couldn’t. Emily was a smart kid, one of the smartest he’d ever met. He could see it buried below the childish terror in her eyes, that crushing and inescapable knowledge that something wasn’t right. He let his eyes fall to the floor and folded his hands on the table, his trigger finger idly scrubbing at a callus on his knuckles.
“She’s not sick.”
The declaration was firm and certain, and Leon lifted his eyes back to gaze at Emily once more. “It’s different. Remember when you first started school, and you were really nervous? You said it reminded you of being back there…at Rhodes Hill, right?”
Emily nodded meekly, casting a warped shadow against the living room wall. Her initial weeks of living a normal life- or the closest approximation to one she’d likely get- had been a struggle. Her new school had been especially challenging, with its long hallways, fluorescent lights, and endless waves of stimulation Emily had simply never had to experience before. Leon nodded back at her, pleased to see that she was still with him.
“Remember how we talked about how it’s ok to be scared?”
He pushed further, leaning down slightly to bring his face to Emily’s level. Emily did the same, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table, listening eagerly for whatever Leon had to say as she nodded once more.
“Y-yeah. You said that I was really brave back t-there, but it was still scary. So it’s ok to remember it, a-and be scared. But Papa, I don’t get it. W-what’s that got to do with Gr…Mom?”
Leon let out a soft, humorless chuckle and reached up to his face once more, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Smart kid,” he lightly teased, pausing just long enough to offer Emily a lopsided smile.
“Your mom was really brave that night too. She did more than anyone could have asked for. Got me out of a real pickle more than once, if I’m being honest.”
Leon drawled, exaggerating his stoic tone just enough to tinge the final sentence with absurdity. Emily let out a shaky laugh, and Leon felt his shoulders relax at the sight of the girl feeling something other than dread. However, he wasn’t done quite yet.
“But it was still really scary, and you know what, adults get scared too. And sometimes we remember that scary stuff…”
He murmured, trailing off and clearing his throat before Emily could notice the strain in his words. Across the table the young girl peered curiously at him, then slowly nodded once more. “So, like a nightmare?” she questioned, blinking twice.
“Yeah, like a nightmare,” Leon parroted, inhaling deeply and leaning back against the chair as he let the breath slip free. Across from him Emily glanced down at her lap and shifted, stiffly swinging her feet in the air below the chair.
“B-but Mom’s gonna be ok…right? Nightmares aren’t real,” Emily mumbled, clutching at the hem of her shirt once again. Leon moved to respond before pausing and glancing around the living room, taking in the piles of paper and discarded dishes once more. The guilt in the pit of his stomach surged up once more, growing stronger as he looked back to Emily. He wondered if somehow, in some twisted sense, she worried this might be her fault. He knew the feeling, that ache behind the ribs, the endless rumination about what could have happened if he’d just done something different.
“Yeah, she’ll be ok,” Leon replied, swallowing the lump in his throat as he reached out and ruffled Emily’s hair. “She’s just gonna need a little help. But she’s got it. She’s got me, Ada, Claire, even grumpy old uncle Chris…and she’s got you,” He added, to which Emily immediately raised her head and stared at him, eyes wide as dinner plates. Slowly, the first hints of a smile began to spread across her face, only for her mouth to suddenly hinge open in a wide yawn. Leon watched as she scrunched her eyes shut, then opened them once more, only to stare back at him with a half lidded gaze. He let out a single chuckle, then stood up and offered his arms down to Emily.
“I think it’s time we got you back to bed, huh sweetheart? Think you can manage that?”
He asked as Emily slowly moved to stand on the chair, then crawled into his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, allowing him to hoist her up. She nestled her forehead against his chest and clung to him, her eyes still open but beginning to noticeably droop.
“Yeah…are you gonna stay?”
Leon nodded, then turned and began to walk back down the hallway towards Emily’s room, cradling her gently as he spoke. “Yeah. I’m not gonna leave your side.”
Emily, content with his response, finally let her eyes drift shut as the pair approached the door to her room. Just before he opened it, Leon paused and glanced down the hall towards the closed door to Grace’s room. Emily murmured sleepily against his shirt but didn’t stir, and in the silence of the hallway Leon gave himself a moment to make a promise.
I’m not gonna leave your side either, not again.