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The fight had been going well. Okay, not well, considering Leon is currently stuck in a burning building. Also his opponent is a giant of a man who now sports two sets of crab arms, and whose vertebrae have turned to centipede legs. But, considering all that? It’d been going well.
Ashley had fled as Leon instructed, leaving the agent to whittle the priest down, bullet by bullet. Leon slots another magazine into his Silver Ghost, the black plating and claws that replaced the skin of his hands clicking against the metal. It almost resembles a glove. Almost. But Leon knows it isn’t. Even if he tries to convince himself otherwise every time he catches a glimpse of the dark hands, black veins creeping up his arms.
With a fresh round of ammo, Leon raises his gun, aiming for Mendez’s head. But before he has a chance to get off a shot, he has to leap sideways to avoid a massive piece of flaming timber. Leon swears, shoving himself back to his feet, but he’s not quite fast enough. A massive hand closes around Leon’s body, hoisting him into the air and pinning him against the wall.
Leon writhes, trying to reach his gun or knife or something, but his arms are pinned tight to his sides, legs kicking at the priest’s chest and arms. “Still you resist,” Mendez murmurs, a massive set of pincers hovering just above Leon. Leon pants, heat licking his skin. He glares at the priest even as he struggles for a way out. “Give in, little hunter, join us.”
“Fuck off,” Leon snarls, but the sound comes out choked. He lashes out at Mendez again, even as his calves burn, muscles locked and seizing. Then, on his next thrash, something snaps. Leon gags, head snapping back in a choked off scream as pain floods his mind. For a brief moment it feels like his bones have shoved through his skin, muscles turned inside out. There is nothing but blinding agony.
For a moment Leon wavers on the edge of consciousness, certain his legs have been torn off or shoved inside out. But then he feels them twitch, a rush of pins and needles where pain was before. They still hurt like hell, but it’s a bone deep ache akin to a muscle cramp, not liquid fire.
Gritting his teeth, Leon braces himself again, pulling his legs to his chest and bracing his feet against Mendez’s arm. He’s vaguely aware that it feels wrong—feet splayed too wide, the grip of his feet too strong—but Leon’s long learned to ignore the state of his body over pure bloody survival.
He digs his feet in and shoves and miraculously, Mendez’s hand falls away, the priest howling in pain and anger. Leon hits the ground, but his feet are already under him, absorbing the impact. He pants for a second, pulling desperate oxygen into his lungs, the heat of the air burning his throat. Leon focuses on Mendez, withdrawing back to his perch in the rafters, one of his human arms now a bloody ragged stump.
Leon bares his teeth, adrenaline singing in his blood. “That all you got?” Leon taunts, shifting his weight, the ache in his legs fading with each passing moment. “Haven’t killed me yet!”
Mendez roars and the dance begins again.
Despite his brush with disaster, Leon moves even faster than before. He jumps and rolls away from Mendez’s attacks, at one point even bunching his legs under him and leaping onto the priest midair, bringing his knife down into the man’s neck. Mendez howls, the remaining human arm reaching for Leon, but he’s already dropped to the floor.
Finally, after minutes that stretch into hours, the mutated priest finally falls to the ground, legs twitching their last. Leon doesn’t have time to celebrate though, considering he’s still stuck in a burning building. He sprints for the exit, just barely leaping through a window before a ceiling beam caves in behind him.
As soon as Leon is outside he staggers a dozen meters away from the inferno before allowing himself to slump to the ground. He coughs, smoke clogging his lungs while heat scorches one side of his face.
“Damn it,” Leon wheezes, rubbing his chest. The roaring flames cast everything into sharp relief, the night’s blackness evaporating under the intense heat. And, under the flicking orange cast, Leon finally catches sight of his feet.
They aren’t his.
Leon’s boots are gone and in their place are massive splayed toes tipped with shining black talons, like those of a dinosaur. Bile rises in Leon’s throat as he traces the shining black shell upward, past his elongated and warped ankles, over his calves and up to his knees. The smooth surface is cut by grooves and small jagged spines, the black shimmering in the firelight. Leon tries flexing his toes and to his horror, the dinosaur-like talons do so instead.
Oh God, what the fuck, no no no no—
“Leon!?”
His head snaps to the side at the sound of Ashley’s voice. She hurries toward where he sits sprawled in the dirt, her eyes scanning him up and down. Leon gets a brief glimpse of her expression contorting in surprise and horror as her gaze lands on his legs, twisted into something inhuman. This isn’t just claws on his fingertips. This is his entire fucking leg.
Then, before Leon can wrangle his thoughts together—mostly to make sure he doesn’t scream when he opens his mouth—Ashley cuts in first.
“I didn’t take you for a guy to try thigh-highs,” Ashley says, giving him a strained smile.
Leon blinks, his panicked thoughts abruptly derailing into a wall. “What?” he asks dumbly, and Ashley hesitantly waves a hand at his twisted feet.
“You know, thigh-high boots? Kinda scandalous for a government agent, don’t you think?” She pauses, then ducks her head. While it's hard to see in the light of the fire, there’s a distinct blush crawling up her cheeks. “Sorry, that was dumb, I—”
Despite himself, Leon barks a pained laugh, shaking his head. “No, thank you, I…” He trails off, pulling his legs closer to his body. The talons that have replaced his feet carve trenches in the dirt. “…It happened again.”
Ashley kneels down next to him, hands hovering over his now black slicked skin. His pants, Leon realizes, have been torn ragged at the knee, ripped open by the sharp spines. “Does it hurt?” the young woman asks quietly, eyes flicking from his face to his new feet.
Slowly, Leon shakes his head. “No. Not anymore.” He swallows roughly, saliva catching in his throat. “Ashley, I’ll protect you as long as I can but… but if they get in my head—”
“No,” Ashley interrupts, shaking her head fiercely. “I trust you,” she says, staring him in the eyes. “Even if they’re trying to make you one of them, I trust you. I know you’ll keep me safe. You already have, and you’re going to be okay.” Her tone brokers no argument.
“…Alright,” Leon exhales, nodding. Because she’s right, he will. Even if he’s slowly turning into a bug monster, it doesn’t matter. On his life, Leon will get Ashley home. And yet here he is, sitting in the dirt and wasting precious time.
“Right, we need to keep moving,” Leon says, pulling his legs under him to stand. “That fire is bound to have—!” Before Leon can finish, his legs buckle under him and he faceplants straight into the dirt.
“Leon!” Ashley yelps, quickly leaning over as Leon shoves an arm underneath his chest and levers himself up. What the hell? “Leon, are you okay?”
Leon doesn’t answer, instead trying again to get his feet under him and stand, but again, he can’t even get them to hold his weight before he crashes back to the ground Fuck, Leon realizes with a growing sense of panic as his feet kick against the ground, joints rolling and bending in unnatural ways. He can’t fucking walk.
“Leon?” Ashley repeats as Leon sits back on his ass again, staring mindlessly into the distance. “What’s wrong?”
He can’t stand. He can’t walk. How the hell is Leon supposed to save the President’s daughter if he can’t fucking walk?!
Hissing in frustration Leon levers himself up on his arms again. His feet fold and bend where they’re not supposed to, compacted under his body. Leon feels like half his nerve connections end in static, tied to things he doesn’t know how to control.
“Leon?” Ashley asks again, a nervous lilt to her voice. Shit, he’s scaring her, isn’t he?
Leon keeps his head pointed at the ground, shame burning in his face. “I… I can’t get myself up.”
Ashley makes a wordless exclamation of surprise, and then she’s instantly by his side, hands under his arms to help him stand. With her aid, Leon manages to get upright, legs quivering under him. The only way he can stand is on what seems to be on his toes, clawed talons splayed out as he struggles to stay upright. His balance is completely shot.
Ashley wraps one of his arms around her shoulders, encouraging him to lean on her. Leon doesn’t have much of a choice. With Ashley’s help, Leon stumbles away from the still-roaring fire. As they go, Leon blinks as he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than he should be. Fuck.
This is bad. How is he supposed to protect Ashley if he can barely move? How is he supposed to fight? Well, you did fight, his subconscious offers up. When you fought against the priest, you certainly weren’t struggling to stand. You just need to learn.
Learn, relearn, how to move his own body.
Leon’s stomach twists, a heavy ball of lead settling amidst his innards. He doesn’t want to relearn, because if he does, that means accepting these monstrous limbs are part of him. It’s practically accepting his fate, consigning himself to existing as this. As a monster. But if he doesn’t, if Leon can’t move properly, then there is functionally no chance of him getting Ashley to safety.
On his life, he’ll get Ashley home.
Even if he has to accept he’s becoming a monster… Leon won’t let the same thing happen to her.
“Here we go,” Ashley says, slowing as they reach another building. She tilts her head to look up at him. “You… alright?”
Leon grunts, reaching out his free arm to brace against the wall. He stumbles a step, but manages to stay upright, and Ashley quickly wraps a hand around his arm, offering another point of contact. “Just need to… figure this out,” Leon mutters, looking down at his (not his, not his—) feet. He takes a couple steps, legs quaking under him and talons sinking into the mud.
Ashley hums, helping him balance another couple steps before perking up. “Oh, I know! Just pretend you’re wearing a pair of high heels!”
“And what makes you think I’d have experience in that?” Leon asks, briefly glancing at her. He quickly has to refocus on the ground, gritting his teeth. Shit, his ankles way too high up…
“I— Oh come on, Leon! Haven’t you ever tried on high heels just for fun?”
Leon snorts. “Can’t say I’ve ever been a fan of dress up.”
Ashley huffs, squeezing his arm a bit tighter. Leon appreciates that she doesn’t shove him in retribution, because right now he would absolutely eat dirt. “It’s basically just walking on your tiptoes,” Ashley says, rolling her eyes. “Come on, try the heels out, mister.”
“Not heels,” Leon mutters, but he does take the suggestion, shifting his weight a little. He doesn’t admit it, but Ashley’s suggestion does help. Still, how the hell are his fucked up toes managing to be both stiffer and more flexible than they should be?! Oblivious to his internal conflict, Ashley whoops as he manages to take a few steps without stumbling, then a few more where he doesn’t need to lean on her as heavily.
“There see? We’ll have you walking the catwalk in no time!” Ashley chirps, grinning up at him. She whistles. “Thigh-high heeled boots, not bad Mr. Agent.”
Leon groans.