Archive of Our Own

The final stretch of the drive had been surprisingly peaceful, the endless ribbon of highway gradually carrying them closer to Washington D.C., which sat roughly halfway between where they had started and where they were ultimately headed. Her mother’s old friend lived further north in Richmond and, considering the distance involved and the fact that Emily was with her, stopping somewhere overnight had always been the sensible choice. 

Grace had mentioned the trip to Leon during one of their weekly phone calls in passing and how excited Emily was to visit a new place, only for him to casually ask her to stay over at his house for the night. Grace hadn't exactly pegged Leon Kennedy as the type of person who invited people into his home, or really let people into his personal life at all. For all that they'd kept in touch over the past six months, the senior D.S.O. agent remained a private man, who seemed far more comfortable listening than talking about himself…which was why she'd nearly choked a month ago when he'd casually mentioned having a wife.

Just dropped it out of blue into the middle of a conversation with a simple, "My wife told me about it," before continuing as though that was a normal thing to spring on someone.

So when he'd offered to let her and Emily stay over during their trip, she'd been taken aback at first as he seemed like someone who wouldn’t want other people to pry into his private haven but eventually though, she'd agreed.

Thinking back, she still wasn't entirely sure why she'd agreed. Maybe because she was grateful for him checking up on her. He had told her he would do that once a week and back then Grace hadn’t taken it seriously, because he had known her for a brief period of time and thought he had meant it as an assurance then, he actually kept his word. 

Once a week without fail. 

Sometimes the conversations lasted twenty minutes, sometimes barely five, but he always called. She supposed that it should have made sense, knowing about what he went through in Raccoon City and learning just how young he'd been when his entire life had fallen apart. He wasn't checking on her because he pitied her…he was making sure she wasn't alone because nobody had done that for him. The thought still made her chest tighten whenever it crossed her mind.

Nobody could ever replace her mother, no, that wasn't possible. It wasn't even something she wanted but there was a certain comfort in knowing there was at least one adult in the world she trusted completely, one person she could call if everything became too much, and that was probably why she found herself following the GPS toward the address he'd sent instead of stopping at some random hotel along the interstate.

She rounded a bend in the road and immediately slowed.

"...Holy…."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

For several seconds she simply stared through the windshield as the property came into view beyond a long stone wall and wrought-iron gate, her brain taking a moment to process what exactly she was looking at. The house wasn't absurdly huge, if anything it was understated elegance but it looked expensive. 

Built from pale grey stone and dark timber, the place looked as though it belonged on the cover of an architectural magazine, combining old colonial influences with sleek modern renovations so seamlessly that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Large floor to ceiling windows reflected the afternoon sunlight like sheets of glass cut directly into the stonework while broad covered verandas wrapped around portions of the structure, supported by thick wooden beams that looked handcrafted.

 A steep slate roof rose above the wings of the house, broken up by dormer windows and stone chimneys, while a carefully maintained garden stretched across the surrounding grounds. Mature oak trees offered shade across sections of the property, their branches arching over winding pathways and flowerbeds that looked professionally designed.

Jesus Christ.

Grace parked near the front and found herself staring up at the house again as she climbed out.

Leon had worked for the government practically his entire life, but he wasn't exactly some random federal employee either. The man had been one of the founding members of the D.S.O., spent decades handling threats most people didn't even know existed and was one of the most decorated government agents in American history. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised he had money but still…she felt so out of her depth here. 

Emily had climbed out as well and was standing completely motionless next to the car.

Grace watched her head tilt further back as she tried to take everything in at once, wide brown eyes moving from the roofline to the garden and then to the enormous windows before immediately darting somewhere else. 

The expression on her face made Grace's chest ache a little because she remembered that Emily was still discovering things people took for granted every day.

"Grace..." she whispered softly.

"Yeah?"

"His house looks like the one from the Secret Garden."

Grace couldn't help smiling. 

Emily slowly turned in a circle, taking in every detail around them with the same fascination she'd shown the first time she'd watched leaves changing color. The flowers lining the driveway seemed to capture her attention next, followed by the sunlight filtering through the trees then the stone pathways winding through the gardens. 

“It's beautiful.”

Her voice carried the same awe she'd been wearing since they'd pulled into the driveway.

Grace glanced down at her. “You nervous?”

“Nope.” She answered with a pop at the end of the word that Emily always did when she was particularly certain about something and Grace huffed a quiet laugh.

Huh. Maybe she was the only nervous one here after all.

Before she could think of a response, movement near the front entrance caught her attention as she spotted a familiar figure. 

Leon.

Gone was the image of the veteran agent in his tactical gear as standing on the porch was simply Leon Kennedy in a dark henley and jeans, one hand shoved casually into his pocket and a small smile already tugging at the corner of his mouth as he headed down the steps toward them.

"Hey, Grace. Hey, Emily."

His smile widened slightly.

"So glad you guys could make it."

Beside her, Emily offered a shy but genuine smile back.

”Heyy.”

"Hello, Leon."

The relief that swept through Grace's chest surprised her with its intensity.

In the beginning, after everything that had happened, she'd honestly worried how Emily would react around him. She remembered Leon quietly voicing similar concerns during one of their earlier conversations, uncertain whether the little girl would be frightened of him, because he was after all the one who pulled the trigger on her, something that still bothered her sometimes.

Fortunately, Emily remembered none of what transpired around the time she had turned and Grace thanked God for that more often than she liked to admit.

No child deserved to remember something like that.

“Come on in.”

Leon stepped aside, holding the door open for them.

Between the two of them, they hadn't brought much- just a pair of carry on bags that contained enough for a couple nights on the road. Her hand remained firmly wrapped around Emily's as they stepped inside, both instinctively wiping their feet before crossing the threshold.

The interior immediately caught Grace by surprise.

After seeing the exterior, she'd half expected something luxurious inside, the type of place with endless hallways and rooms nobody actually used, but instead the house felt... lived in.

The entryway opened into a spacious but welcoming living area with rich hardwood floors. There were bookshelves filled with actual books that looked worn out judging from their broken stem and comfortable looking furniture that appeared frequently used.

Intricate framed artwork decorated the walls, ranging from landscapes to delicate botanical sketches, while several pieces featured butterflies in different forms. Some appeared painted by hand, others looked almost antique, preserved beneath glass in vibrant displays.  Here and there stood decorative pieces that looked genuinely historic rather than something purchased from an expensive furniture store trying to imitate history—a brass telescope positioned beside one of the windows, intricately carved wooden figures displayed on shelves, antique clocks with delicate craftsmanship and small artifacts whose purpose she couldn't even begin to guess. 

Every piece seemed carefully chosen, as though whoever had decorated the house possessed both an eye for beauty and actual appreciation for art and craftsmanship. 

Her gaze lingered on a particularly ornate piece resting inside a glass cabinet.

Leon must have noticed her staring.  "My wife is a collector," he said with a small smile, as she nodded. 

As she followed him further inside, however, something else began to stand out. There weren't any photographs of him or his wife. Her gaze swept across shelves, tables and walls a second time just to make sure she wasn't missing something obvious.

Most homes had at least a few framed photographs somewhere. Grace would know. Her mother had filled their apartment with them, from baby pictures to school photos and countless memories in between. These days, Grace found herself doing the same thing with Emily without even thinking about it.

Maybe they were in their bedroom or somewhere else…even if not….it wasn’t any of her business. 

Leon led them upstairs and showed them into a guest room that was honestly larger than any bedroom Grace had ever had in her life. The space was warm and inviting, with two queen-sized beds, and enough space that it almost felt like a hotel suite.

"You two can freshen up first," Leon said, setting their bags down near the door. "After that, come join us for lunch. I'd like to introduce you to my wife."

Before Grace could properly respond, he was already heading back downstairs.

Fortunately neither of them took long. After hours spent in the car, a quick shower felt amazing, and within half an hour they were both getting dressed. 

She found herself digging through her bag for the nicest top she'd packed. It wasn't anything fancy, but she was meeting Mrs. Kennedy for the first time and wanted to make a good impression. Emily received similar treatment. Grace carefully helped her into the cute summer dress she'd bought just last week, smoothing out the fabric before stepping back once she was satisfied, giving Emily a quick inspection from head to toe.

"I thought we were just having lunch." Emily looked down at herself before lightly tugging at the hem of her dress.

"We are."

"Then why are you dressing me up in this one? I thought it was for outings."

Grace simply gave her a patient look.

"Because first impressions matter."

Emily stared at her for a second before releasing a dramatic sigh that carried the long-suffering patience of someone far older than nine years old.

Soon they found themselves making their way downstairs again and toward the dining area Grace had spotted earlier. Leon was already there, which wasn't particularly surprising...what was surprising, however, was the apron.

Grace blinked.

Leon Kennedy, hardened government agent, survivor of more apocalypses than should statistically be possible was standing in a kitchen apron while tasting something from a spoon. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, testing the flavor, gave a small nod of approval to himself and then returned to ladling what looked like soup into waiting bowls.

The sight was so odd that it almost didn't register at first.

"You guys are quick."

He smiled and it was then Grace noticed something was different. She had seen him smile, yes, but he seemed lighter here…as if the perpetual weight that seemed on his shoulders seemed absent, left somewhere outside these walls. 

This must really be his comfort space.

"You cook?" Grace asked.

There wasn't any judgment in the question. She'd just sort of assumed there was... she didn't know... someone who handled that. A housekeeper maybe, given that he seemed loaded. 

Leon chuckled. "Eh. I'm okay, I guess."

"No need to be modest."

The third voice made Grace glance up. She turned to find a woman walking toward them and for a brief second Grace could only stare as she took in the stranger who could only be Mrs. Kennedy.

"I've had food from restaurants that were considerably worse."

"I don't know if that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

Leon raised an eyebrow at his wife who shrugged one shoulder. 

“Gotta keep a little mystery alive.” She quickly pecked him, making him smile, returned to setting plates on the table while she continued forward, taking a seat in right in front and Grace couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. 

Her mind went completely blank because wow …she was beautiful.

Not the kind of pretty Grace saw every day walking through town or scrolling through social media, no, she was breathtaking in a way that almost didn't seem real,...the sort of beauty usually reserved for magazine covers or luxury advertisements. 

Everything about her seemed effortlessly put together, from the dark shoulder length hair that framed her face to the sharpness of her features and the quiet confidence with which she carried herself, and Grace found herself wondering if she'd been a model at some point or maybe an actress because surely people didn't just casually look like that while sitting down for lunch. Even her outfit  managed to look impossibly elegant despite its simplicity—a cream silk blouse with the sleeves casually rolled to her forearms paired with tailored dark trousers. She had some statement jewellery on, accompanied only with a wedding band that matched Leon’s and yet…

She was so refined and sophisticated that made Grace feel distinctly underdressed and out of her depth despite having spent ten minutes making herself look more put together. 

What struck her even more, however, was how young she looked.

Grace frowned slightly. 

Very young. Not young in the sense that she looked immature, quite the opposite infact, but young compared to Leon… actually…

Her eyes flicked between the two of them.

How old was she?

Thirty three? Maybe a little older? Certainly not much more than that.

The realization immediately brought back the conversation she'd had with Leon a few weeks ago where somewhere between she had learned that he had been married for a decade and now, looking at his wife sitting there across the table, her brain was doing calculations whether she wanted it to or not. 

Leon was touching fifty now. Fifty! And while he cleaned up well, he was still, objectively speaking, an older guy…which meant...

Grace's eyebrows furrowed.

How old had his wife been when they'd met?

The thought felt strangely intrusive the second it appeared and Grace immediately felt guilty for having it, but she couldn't help herself. She had simply never imagined Leon being interested in someone who was…this younger. In her head, she'd always pictured his wife differently, someone closer to his age, a sweet woman with laugh lines around her eyes and wrinkles earned through decades of living, maybe some childhood sweetheart who had grown old alongside him. 

Not...

Not a woman who looked like she'd stepped straight out of a fashion magazine.

Then she looked directly at her and Grace nearly jumped because her eyes were incredibly sharp, as if she was aware of every awkward thought currently running through Grace’s head. For one brief, horrifying second she became convinced the woman knew exactly what she'd been thinking and immediately dropped her gaze toward the table.

"You must be Grace."

The words were firm yet gentle as she found herself looking up.  "Pleasure to finally meet you."

"L-likewise, Mrs. Kennedy."

That earned her an amused look.  

"Please. Call me Ada."

Grace nodded, suddenly finding herself incapable of forming words.

Fortunately for her, Ada's attention shifted toward the little girl standing beside her.

"And you must be Emily."

Grace glanced down and immediately noticed that Emily appeared just as captivated as she was, not that she could blame her…Ada was probably the prettiest woman the nine year old had ever seen in her life.

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you... Ada." 

The way Emily carefully tested the name made Ada smile a fraction.

Then, after a brief pause, Emily blurted out. 

"You're pretty."

The words seemed to escape her before she could stop them and her eyes immediately widened. A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she realized what she'd just said, and Grace had to bite down a laugh.

For a moment Emily looked as though she'd quite happily crawl under the table and stay there.

Ada, however, merely looked amused.

"Why, thank you."

The answer was delivered with such easy warmth that some of Emily's embarrassment immediately faded, and Grace found herself quietly grateful for it. Emily had come a long way over the past few months, but she was still naturally reserved, still prone to retreating back into her shell whenever she felt too flustered or overwhelmed. Ada's effortless response seemed to have defused the situation for her.

A second later Leon finally joined them, having finished setting the table, and dropped into the remaining chair.

"Well," he said dryly, glancing between his wife and the younger girl, "that's probably the fastest anyone has ever won her over. You should consider yourself lucky, Emily."

Ada responded with a small roll of her eyes that seemed born from years of dealing with him but that simple gesture made the atmosphere feel relaxed. With Leon finally seated as well, Grace found herself settling into her chair, some of the nervousness she'd carried downstairs gradually fading away.

Lunch unfolded easily after that, and Grace couldn’t help but compliment Leon because holy shit the man could cook. She understood what his wife had meant now. 

It was mostly a silent affair which was occasionally broken by Leon asking about the drive, whether they'd made good time getting there, checked that neither of them had run into any trouble on the road and then naturally shifted his attention toward Emily, wanting to know how school was going, whether she was adjusting well and if she'd managed to make any friends yet. 

Emily was a bit guarded at first but became more comfortable as the conversation continued, speaking about school, a couple of classmates she liked and little things that had happened over the past few weeks.

Throughout it all, Grace found her attention drifting back toward Ada more than once.

For the most part Ada simply listened while eating, contributing the occasional comment when appropriate, yet Grace got the distinct impression that she missed absolutely nothing. She seemed perfectly content allowing Leon to carry the conversation, but her attention stayed sharp and she found herself wondering just what did she do? 

“So... how did you guys meet?”

The question slipped out almost without thinking as Grace poked at the remains of her dessert. Leon had been carrying most of the conversation since lunch started anyway, and she figured maybe this was the sort of thing people asked during polite conversation…kind of like ice breakers…normal social interaction….things she had never been particularly good at.

For a brief moment both of them paused and Grace immediately began doubting herself.

Had she crossed a line?

She was already mentally backtracking when she noticed Ada glance toward Leon, seemingly content to let him answer.

“Back in Raccoon city actually.1998.”

Grace nearly dropped her spoon as she stared at him, momentarily convinced she'd misheard because Raccoon City wasn't just some random place or year in his life, it was the night, the single catastrophic night that had changed everything for him and marked the beginning of the nightmare he'd spent nearly three decades carrying on his shoulders.

And if he'd met Ada there, during that one night out of all nights, then that meant they had known each other for....

Twenty eight years

Grace slowly turned her head toward Ada.

The woman appeared entirely unbothered by the revelation, calmly taking another sip of her drink while Grace's brain attempted to process what she'd just learned.

Twenty eight...

Her thoughts immediately went somewhere else.

Had Leon saved her? It was the kind of thing Leon did. Maybe she'd been trapped somewhere during the outbreak. Maybe he'd found her and gotten her out. Maybe—

If her math wasn't completely failing her...

Grace's gaze drifted toward Ada. Then toward Leon and back toward Ada again. 

This can’t be right. 

A strange feeling settled into her stomach.

"He saved you?"

The question came out before she could stop herself because ironically, she no longer felt remotely shy…atleast for that moment.

Ada raised an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised to suddenly be addressed directly.

"You could say that."

A snort immediately escaped Leon.

"Please. You're the one who saved my ass at least three times that night."

Which only succeeded in confusing Grace even further because that wasn't helping at all, if anything it was making the situation significantly more complicated, her gaze immediately darting between the two of them as she tried to reconcile the image in her head of Raccoon City, twenty one year old Leon and the woman currently sitting across from her, none of which seemed to fit together no matter how hard she tried.

"How?" she found herself asking. "Did you really..."

"Saved him, yes." The corner of her mouth curved upward. "Didn’t know what I was signing up for then."

Leon shook his head. “Uh huh. You are the one who couldn’t stay away.”

“Says the man who didn't stop chasing me.”

Grace simply stared between the two of them…trying to make sense of the timeline.

If Leon had met Ada in Raccoon City and then spent years chasing after her as she was very heavily implying, then how old exactly had Ada been when all of that happened? 

The more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable she became. Surely not. There was no way.

"I'm sorry, but..." Grace began before she could stop herself, every survival instinct in her body screaming at her to shut up immediately. "...how old are you?"

The second the question left her mouth, she regretted it.

She knew perfectly well that wasn't the sort of thing you asked a woman. Society had made that abundantly clear. Yet she'd gone and done it anyway.

Ada looked momentarily surprised, as though she'd expected her to keep the question to herself despite seemingly guessing what was going through her head. There was a trace of amusement there too, which only made Grace more nervous.

"I mean, it's just that you look..."

"-young.”

Grace nearly fell out of her chair.

Emily, who had now grown very comfortable amongst them, apparently deciding that subtlety was overrated, had enthusiastically supplied the missing words for her and for one horrifying moment, silence descended over the table as both Leon and Ada looked at them.

Grace wanted to die...or evaporate. Either option was acceptable.

Beside her, Emily looked entirely pleased with herself, blissfully unaware that she had just thrown Grace directly under a bus.

Before she could attempt damage control, however, a soft chuckle broke the silence.

To her surprise, it came from Ada. The woman actually laughed which somehow made her even more embarrassed. Leon, meanwhile, looked completely lost.

Ada glanced toward her husband. "Hon," she said smoothly, "I think Miss Ashcroft is worried you're a cradle robber."

Leon's jaw dropped so completely that for a moment Grace could only stare, because she had never seen him look so genuinely blindsided before, his face cycling through confusion, disbelief and profound horror in such rapid succession that it would have been funny if she weren't currently dying of embarrassment herself.

"Hold up, what?"

Grace immediately looked down at the table.

Maybe if she concentrated hard enough perhaps the floor would open and swallow her whole.

"She's three years older than me."

She found herself staring blankly at the government agent, convinced she had somehow misheard him because there was absolutely no way those words had just come out of his mouth, and when the silence stretched on without his wife correcting him or admitting it was a joke, her head slowly turned back toward Ada, who looked entirely unbothered by the revelation while Grace proceeded to scrutinize her with a level of intensity that was probably bordering on rude.

Only now, armed with information she clearly wasn't supposed to have, she began noticing details that had escaped her before…like the faintest traces of lines around the corners of Ada's eyes, subtle signs of age that were hard to miss and yet…they didn’t seem enough. Grace's brain still couldn't process the fact that she was that old …older than Leon.

On the bright side, at least Grace's initial assessment of Leon had turned out to be correct. Whatever else could be said about their relationship, it was painfully obvious now that he had been completely smitten with Ada for a very very long time. 

At least that part was sweet.

"I am sorry," Grace blurted out, her face growing warm all over again. "I-I didn't mean to make assumptions."

Ada dismissed the apology with a small wave of her hand as though it wasn't worth dwelling on.

"It's alright. Good genetics and lots of skincare." The corner of her mouth curved upward. "I'm flattered, though."

Leon looked considerably less amused. "Great. Now the next time we go on vacation together, I'll be wondering if everyone thinks I'm some pervert married to a woman half my age."

The words were mostly a joke, but Grace still felt a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over her. Ada merely reached over and brushed a hand against his face in an absent, soothing gesture, which spoke of years and years of familiarity.

"It's okay," she said lightly. "I won't mind you being my sugar daddy for a few days."

The statement was a tease but what was startling was that Leon immediately seemed to soften beneath the touch, which was so unlike his agent persona. He was still scoffing at her words, but he leaned into her hand anyway as if subconsciously and Grace felt like she was witnessing something far too private.

"What's a sugar daddy?"

Uh oh…

It was much later that night when Grace found herself awake once again, staring up at the ceiling despite the fact that the bed beneath her was quite possibly the most comfortable thing she'd ever slept on, because unfortunately no amount of expensive mattresses or soft sheets could magically fix the fact that sleep sometimes refused to come easily to her. After several more minutes of lying there and accomplishing absolutely nothing, she carefully rolled onto her side to check on Emily, finding the little girl completely passed out in the other bed with one arm dangling off the edge and her blanket half-kicked away, and after making sure she wouldn't wake her, she quietly slipped from the room.

The house was silent at this hour, illuminated only by scattered lamps and the pale moonlight filtering through the enormous windows, and for a while she simply wandered without purpose before eventually finding herself outside in the garden, slowly following one of the stone pathways while admiring flowerbeds she couldn't name and shrubs that had likely cost more than her monthly rent. 

She had come to found out few hours earlier that this place was actually owned by Ada, not Leon, which had only left her incredibly curious about what kind of work she did.

She had just been pondering on it when a faint sound reached her ears.

Turning back toward the house, Grace followed it through a part of the property she hadn't explored earlier. This section of the house contained a private gym large enough to rival a professional facility, another appeared designed for combat training with padded floors and equipment she only vaguely recognized, while secure cabinets and reinforced doors hinted at things she probably didn't want to know about.

The sound eventually led her to a heavy door standing slightly open, light spilling through the gap.

She hesitated only briefly before stepping inside and her jaw nearly hit the floor.

Because beyond the door sat an indoor shooting range. An actual fucking shooting range.

The room was heavily insulated and soundproofed, which explained why the noise had been so muted from outside, and standing near the firing lanes wearing earmuffs were the owners of this place. 

Leon didn't surprise her. She'd seen the man shoot before and he was ridiculous. He had terrifying reflexes and enough skill to make most trained professionals question their career choices.

Ada, however, was another story entirely and Grace found herself staring once more. 

Because the elegant woman she'd spent lunch with and initially assumed was some retired model moved with a familiarity around weapons that immediately shattered every assumption Grace had formed throughout the day. 

There was nothing hesitant or uncertain about her movements. Every adjustment of her grip, every shift of posture and every pull of the trigger flowed together with an ease that screamed decades of practice, and as target after target absorbed perfectly placed shots, Grace slowly realized with growing disbelief that the older woman wasn't merely competent.

She was extraordinary…

The realization hit hard enough that Grace actually forgot to breathe for a second as her eyes moved from the target back to Ada and then toward Leon again, because suddenly so many things started making sense all at once—the confidence, the sharpness hidden beneath her calm demeanor, how she seemed to notice everything while speaking very little, the fact that Leon respected her in a way that went far beyond simple affection.

Who exactly was this woman?

Because Grace was becoming increasingly certain that Leon Kennedy's wife was far more dangerous than she'd initially assumed.

"You should put on some earmuffs if you're planning on standing there."

The words reached her despite the distance and immediately made Grace freeze because Ada hadn't even looked in her direction. In fact, she was still facing the range, her attention seemingly fixed on the target downrange, yet she'd known Grace was there all the same. For a while she simply stood there wondering how exactly that was possible before Leon glanced over his shoulder, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face as though he hadn't expected company at this hour.

"Grace?" he called out before grabbing an extra set of earmuffs and holding them out toward her. "Here."

Feeling slightly awkward now that she'd been caught lurking, Grace crossed the distance between them and accepted the earmuffs, slipping them on with small thanks before moving closer to the shooting lanes.

"Can't sleep?" Leon asked.

Grace rubbed the back of her neck.

"Yeah. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping."

The answer earned a simple nod from him, because he probably knew what sleepless nights looked like better than anyone else. 

For a while she simply stood there watching.

It was surprising how good they were….as if their body no longer needed conscious thought to shoot.  The weapon seemed less like a tool and more like an extension.

And the accuracy...

She honestly stopped keeping track after a while.

When Leon eventually invited her to try, she accepted mostly because refusing felt cowardly. 

She'd handled firearms before. Back in Raccoon City and in Rhodes Hill but she had only been trying to survive then as it had done very little to improve her actual marksmanship because within minutes it became obvious she was terrible.

One shot went wide….another landed nowhere near where she'd intended and the third was somehow even worse.

Grace lowered the firearm with a grimace.

"Well….that was embarrassing."

"It's not." Leon sounded entirely unconcerned. "It takes time. Besides, you don't have to learn if you don't want to."

The words surprised her more than they probably should have because there was no expectation or implication that she ought to be better or capable of handling a firearm after everything she'd been through. There was just quiet reassurance in his words that not knowing how to do something was normal and that she wasn't failing some invisible test by being bad at it. 

Grace looked down at the gun resting in her hands and found her thoughts drifting upstairs toward Emily sleeping peacefully in the guest room, because a year ago she'd never imagined becoming responsible for another human being, yet now there was a little girl depending on her completely.

"You never know," she admitted quietly after a moment. "I've got Emily now. It probably wouldn't hurt to learn."

Leon studied her for a few seconds as though understanding exactly where the thought had come from before eventually giving a small nod.

"Fair enough."

Not long afterward he excused himself to get some water, leaving Grace unexpectedly alone with Ada, and despite spending most of the day around the woman she immediately found herself growing nervous again. There was just….something about her presence that made Grace unusually aware of herself, as if those observant eyes noticed far more than they should and understood even more than that.

Fortunately, Ada either didn't notice her discomfort or chose not to acknowledge it.

Instead she stepped beside Grace when she noticed her trying and failing, and corrected her, adjusted the angle of her shoulders, the position of her feet and the way she held the gun while offering brief instructions without ever sounding condescending. 

She followed along as best she could, taking another shot and then another and then one more, and while she certainly wasn't setting any records, the results were noticeably less terrible than before.

Ada tilted her head slightly while studying the target downrange.

"Not bad."

The praise shouldn't have felt as satisfying as it did.

"Are you an agent as well?" Grace let her curiosity get the better of her once more. 

For a second Ada simply looked at her before she pursed her lips. 

"No. I'm more of a freelance contractor."

Grace wasn't entirely sure what that meant, though considering everything she'd learned today she suspected the answer was probably complicated.

"So you work against B.O.W.s too?"

A thoughtful look crossed Ada's face, her fingers idly adjusting the magazine as though considering how much of an answer she actually wanted to give.

"You could say that."

Grace had the distinct impression that was the most information she was getting.

And just when she was beginning to think the conversation had run its course and that they would simply shoot in comfortable silence until Leon returned, Ada surprised her by speaking again, her voice quieter than before and carrying a sincerity that immediately caught Grace off guard.

"I didn't get the chance to say it earlier, but thank you."

Grace blinked in confusion, lowering the gun slightly as she glanced toward the older woman.

"For what?"

For a brief moment she didn't answer, and when Grace looked up she found something in the woman's expression had softened, giving way to something more personal.

"For saving him that day."

It took several seconds for the meaning behind Ada's words to fully register before realization struck all at once, bringing her back to Elpis and the memory of the antidote clenched in her trembling hands while Leon collapsed after pushing himself far beyond what his body should have been capable of enduring, and to the terrifying uncertainty that had accompanied administering the injection while everything around them was falling apart, never knowing if it would actually work or whether the man who had spent the entire ordeal protecting her was about to die anyway.

"Oh."

The truth was she had never really thought about it in those terms. Not once.

Leon had risked everything to get her out alive, had nearly died protecting someone he barely knew, and when the opportunity came she'd simply administered the dose that happened to save him.

Yet hearing those words from Ada somehow made the memory feel different, heavier and far more real, because suddenly she wasn't being thanked by another survivor or someone who simply respected Leon as an agent and a hero, she was being thanked by the woman who loved him, who had shared most of her life with him and who would've been the one left behind had things gone differently that day.

"I'm glad I could."

The words came quieter because Grace couldn't imagine carrying the guilt if Leon had died protecting her, couldn't imagine having to live with the knowledge that someone’s husband, someone else's entire world, had paid that price for her survival. The thought alone made her stomach twist, and she found herself profoundly grateful that this conversation was happening here, in a warm house with Leon very much alive and somewhere down the hallway fetching water, rather than under far more tragic circumstances that she didn't even want to think about.

For a while, the distant hum of the ventilation system was the only sound around them, and perhaps because of the conversation they were having or perhaps because she'd spent most of the day watching the two of them together, she found herself voicing another thought.

“You have been together for a long time.”

The change in Ada was immediate, a softness entering her expression that hadn't been there before and seemed reserved entirely for a single person.

"Yes."

“Must be really nice.”

She waited for the woman to continue, whose gaze drifted somewhere beyond the shooting range, as though she was looking back across decades rather than a few feet of concrete.

"It wasn't easy," she admitted eventually. "..wasn’t even supposed to happen."

There was something oddly reflective in Ada's voice and she hadn’t quite frankly expected the woman to be this honest.  "But it did." 

Once again, she found herself curious about the story between them, because this woman had been there that night…the night that still lingered in Leon's nightmares and had taken so much from him and shaped the course of his entire life and yet somehow, among all that death and horror and chaos, he had found her.

Love blossomed in strange places, she supposed.

"Leon doesn't give up on people," Grace said quietly after a while, her thoughts drifting back to that day and those long terrifying hours afterward when everything had felt uncertain and fragile. "He stayed with me the entire time until help arrived…he’s a good man."

She saw Ada let out a quiet exhale as her gaze lowered briefly toward the firearm in her hands.

"Oh, trust me," she said. The affection in her voice was impossible to miss. "I know."

She looked almost fondly exasperated, as though Grace had just pointed out something so fundamentally Leon Kennedy that arguing against it would be like arguing that water was wet, and she wondered how often he had thrown himself into impossible situations for people he barely knew simply because he couldn't bring himself to do otherwise.

Then her attention shifted back toward Grace.

"He told me you're a lot like him."

Grace immediately frowned because wasn't a comparison she'd expected.

Before Grace could question what exactly Ada meant by that comparison, the older woman continued speaking. 

"If that's true, then keep that part of yourself alive. Don't let it die."

The words were spoken softly, yet the way she said them made Grace pay attention immediately because it sounded like something she had learned through years of watching the world try to wear good people down piece by piece.

"There aren't many people willing to care that much anymore," Ada continued after a moment, her gaze drifting briefly toward the doorway Leon had disappeared through before returning to Grace. "People like him are rare."

And then she added.

"So are people like you."

Grace found herself unexpectedly speechless as she stared at the woman because there was no flattery in her tone, just a simple sincerity that felt better than any compliment she could remember receiving, and she wondered if Leon had saved her in more ways than once long ago. 

"Thank you."

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the moment before she could dwell on it further, and a second later the man in question appeared in the doorway carrying bottles of water before slowing slightly as his gaze moved between them, immediately picking up on the fact that a conversation had clearly happened in his absence. 

"What did I miss?" he asked, earning nothing more than a glance from Ada before she accepted one of the bottles and answered with complete composure.

"Just a little girl talk. Nothing for you to be concerned about.” Leon narrowed his eyes on her. “Right, Grace?” and Grace found herself smiling without hesitation as she felt lighter than she had when she'd wandered down here.

As they eventually made their way out of the range together a while later, Grace found herself feeling lighter than she had when she'd arrived there, because somewhere over the course of the evening she'd realized that beneath the stories and extraordinary lives were simply two people who had survived terrible things and somehow remained kind despite it. 

And as she walked beside them, listening to them quietly bicker over something inconsequential, she found herself unexpectedly grateful that she'd met them at all, it felt a little less like she and Emily were facing everything alone, and a little more like there were people she could trust and learn from and perhaps even turn to if life ever became too heavy to carry by herself.