Chapter 29 - Isolation To Insanity

----

- 3 Weeks Later -

Sinfuls' Base | 8:30 A.M.

⁤Another peaceful morning dawns inside the team's secretive base. ⁤⁤Claire sips her coffee through her straw as she walks through the bunker's small corridors, seeming to search for the team's doctor. ⁤

⁤Reaching the room she shares with (y/n), she pushes the door open, only to find the bed empty and unmade. ⁤

"Where the hell..." she murmurs to herself, puzzled. Closing the door behind her, she retraces her steps back to the main room to now discover Carlos at the table, enjoying in silence his breakfast. "Good morning."

"Morning," Carlos replies casually, his fork dipping into the fluffy, and syrup-soaked pancakes.

Claire begins to approach, joining him with her paper cup touching the table. "You're up early."

"Couldn't really sleep. Wanted to get some fresh air," Carlos says between his chews.

"I see..." Leaning against the edge of the table, Claire's arms cross, and her gaze turns thoughtful. "Have you seen (y/n)? I've been looking for her for five minutes now."

Carlos nods as he swallows another bite. "She's in the training room with Leon."

Claire's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Again?"

"Mhyeah."

"Jesus Christ, they've been at it every day for the past month."

"Well, truth is she needs the training."

"Yeah but not twice a day for a month nonstop," Claire retorts, glancing at the watch on her wrist. "And it's barely 9 yet."

Shrugging, Carlos offers a distraction. "Want some?" he gestures towards his half-eaten food.

"No, thanks," Claire declines with a sigh, reaching for her cup to take another sip.

Right just then, Chris makes his own presence known, by stepping inside the main room. At the sound of the doors opening, Claire looks behind her older brother. The grumpiness is evident by the way his brows are low, creating an intimidating crease, and the corners of his lips dropped, showing his..resignation? Tiredness?

"Good morning, Chris—"

"Did you go over the latest reports Luis brought in?" Chris sharply interrupts with a question, not casting a glance at them as he heads straight for the shelf, and reaches for the known documents, ready to continue going through the same golgotha for the day.

Claire shifts lightly. "Um...no, not yet-"

Chris's head snaps towards them, his hand freezing on the top shelf before he drops it and turns fully to face them. "So what you're too busy doing instead?" noting their current actions, he taunts, "Sipping and eating?"

Carlos' brows scrunch defensively at Chris' clipped tone, pushing aside the black takeaway container and rising to his feet. "Can you calm down a bit? All this is not easy for any of us either. We're all doing the best we can."

"After three weeks in here, it sure doesn't look like it, Carlos," Chris bitterly comments, making Carlos scoff irritably.

"It's not our fault if you're-"

Claire quickly intervenes with a calming tone. "We'll head to the laboratory and get the documents from Luis. Alright?" The last thing she would want is another fight to break within the team.

"You're already late," Chris remarks, walking back towards the table and tossing the documents onto the marble with a thud before taking his seat. 

Claire and Carlos exchange wearied glances, silently agreeing to let Chris have the last word. But how much understanding can they be anymore when their own endurance is running thin?

----

The time is only an hour after midnight. Quietly, you and Leon trail behind Piers, who leads you towards the first finished bunker room. The three of you walk in silence, the sound of your steps punctuating the heavy atmosphere that has swallowed the whole team. 

You feel like you're drowning on dry land. You have some type of...heaviness in your chest, wanting nothing more than to leave town, the country—the damn planet at this point. But you're out of choice. You were by the moment you found out you're obliged to return to the base.

All you can do now is keep pushing forward. Even if that means continuing to swim through Umbrella's filthy waters.

As Piers reaches the door, you stand beside him, and as he pushes it open, it reveals the suffocatingly small space inside. There's not a single hint of luxury to be found here—just a basic, single bed with metal frames and a small brown closet standing opposite, both items being hugged by equally depressing light grey colors on the walls. 

The first thing yours and Leon's eyes meet though is the bed of course.

"This is the room. The rest will be done in two days," Piers turns to look at you both. "All you can do is be patient till the other rooms are finished." He offers with an apologetic tone, making you and Leon look back at him. 

It's clear that Piers is clueless about the complexities of your relationship with Leon, and to be honest, you're not entirely sure of it yourself on what's going on in this relationship.

That now remains unfigured.

"The team will stay the night, keep watch over you both," Piers announces next.

Leon simply nods in acknowledgment. "Thanks," his voice is barely audible, keeping on his cold facade.

Returning the gesture with equal gentleness, Piers heads towards the exit, but right before he leaves, he turns once more to you. "Try to get some rest," he suggests, voice softening slightly before he finally walks out, leaving you and Leon alone in the room.

At the soft click, the door seals you both in, and your arms wrap around your form, finding solace while watching Leon, who begins to shed his jacket. The exhaustion is etched on his features, that also mirrors your own tiredness after today's adventure. 

Yet, a conversation still remains on pause.

Since the incident in the training room, you and Leon haven't spoken—well... more accurately, Leon didn't speak to you. He's been entirely focused on the corporation's matters, leaving a cold distance between you two. And this? Destroys you.

However, you can't blame him this time, but yourself. 

"So.." You begin, trying to dissolve the silence, only to be interrupted by Leon's actions. He walks towards the bed, casually tossing a pillow onto the floor. Your brows wrinkle in confusion as you're rooted in place. "Why are you tossing it on the floor?"

"Because that's where I'll sleep," Leon responds stoically, his hands moving to unclasp his holsters.

"Aren't we gonna sleep together?"

"Why should we?"

Why should we?...

His words only continue to sting...

"Because first of all, the floor is..." Pausing, you look down at the floor, causing your face to twist into disgust. "Dirty and cold. And second..." You start to approach him, picking up the pillow he had just tossed to clutch it against your chest. "I want to sleep by your side," you admit, your voice coming out much softer.

But Leon remains unmoved by your words. Snatching the pillow from your hands, he throws it back onto the floor before laying down. 

"...Is this your way of punishing me for what I said earlier?"

Leon finally meets your eyes after your question. "I'm not punishing you for anything. I'm only respecting to put distance-"

"I don't want any distance between us," you insist softly, making one final attempt. "I don't know what else I need to say for you to believe that I didn't mean what I said before...I only said it because I was annoyed, not knowing what really was going on between us—it's not an excuse, I know, but..." Taking a chance, you take another step closer. "If you don't want me to go to dinner with Hercules, I won't. I just...I want us to be good again," you pause hesitantly, choosing your final words carefully. "You mean so much to me."

Because telling him you love him right now could only complicate things further.

Leon remains quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping slowly to the pillow. Maybe, just maybe, you've managed to change his mind and he'll sleep by your side, even if it'll be for the night.

"It's late, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Leon mumbles, sitting down onto the floor instead.

God fucking damn it, you always hated how stubborn he could be. Especially now. But all you can do is give in, at least for the moment.

"...What if you sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor," you decide to offer.

"You're sleeping on the bed, and I'm sleeping on the floor. That's final." Leon firmly terminates.

"Well If you're not getting on the bed with me, then I'm not either," you retort defensively, tossing your own pillow to the other side of the bed.

Leon scoffs as he lies down first, one hand resting behind his head, the other on his stomach. You follow suit, stubbornly lying down on the floor, and the empty bed standing as a silent barrier between you both.

-

Hah...Not only you both slept on the floor, but this is exactly what happened for the next two nights until your and Claire's bunker room was finally ready.

A scene that was petty, and at this point comical to watch.

"Again." Leon orders, directing you to repeat your wrist's twist. From the moment the arrow of the clock hit the dawn, you and Leon have been inside the training room. He said it's better to train with a 'fresh mind'.

At first, you decided to agree, hoping that some time together might ease the tension ease after the bombshell you dropped to him that day. But it quickly started to take its toll. Nothing improved. Instead, it seems like you and Leon have officially returned to square one, where you are nothing more than 'colleagues.'

Right when you got a glimpse of Leon's softer side.

With such feelings hidden—burried beneath...

Not satisfied with the sixth attempt, Leon shakes his head. "You delayed your lift. Again."

22 days. 528 hours. 31,680 minutes, and 1,900,800 seconds have crawled by in a torturously slow pace. Three weeks might seem like a short period, but when you're imprisoned to a bunker almost 24/7, it feels like an eternity. From the moment you arrived, nothing has gone as planned, with things going only downhill. Starting from the very first night of course.

And you wish it was only this. On top of everything, the team is now in constant conflict. Piers and Chris fight over the smallest inconveniences, Hercules is in silent controversy with Leon, and even Carlos and Luis give each other the cold shoulder at times. Only you and Claire seem to maintain more..positive interactions.

Living with seven people inside a bunker, small enough to smother any ounce of privacy, is too much for everyone. And with the added stress of being targeted by your worst enemy, instead of sticking together in these tough moments, they're going for each other's throats.

"Again," Leon's voice shatters your inner thoughts, focusing on today's training session. Despite another failed attempt, he remains unwavering. "One more time."

You make another attempt, but your body betrays you, overwhelmed by another wave of weakness and nausea. With a sigh of despair, you pull away from him. "Can we take a break for a bit?"

"Complete the attack with success and we will."

"But we've been training for two hours nonstop already."

Leon's gaze locks onto yours for a silent moment before he lowers the knife. "Ten minutes. Not any longer."

With a grateful nod, you murmur, "Thank you..." Your eyes remain fixed on Leon's movements as he walks over to the iron bench to adjust his bag.

Joining his side, you sit down, your gaze finds the black rubber floor, while Leon, who stands beside you, begins to rummage through his bag, without offering a glance in your direction. You messed up, alright? But you apologized, tried to explain many times. And instead, Leon just acts like nothing ever happened between the two of you. Like you never kissed, made love, poured your feelings to one another.

This. This is what kills you the most. It's been a month, goddamnit. Why does he have to act so...childish?

His behavior really begins to exhaust you. And this time you're not just saying it. You mean it.

Pushing his bag under the bench with a nonchalant gesture, he turns on his heel and heads towards the locker room, seemingly indifferent to your presence.

With a sigh of resignation, your elbows rest on your knees, and your palms hug your cheeks. The grunts and punches of the soldiers around you fade into the background as they focus on their own training and workouts.

Suddenly, the soft thud against the floor echoes, until you see a pair of black sneakers standing right across from your feet.

"Now, now... what's with that gloomy face?" Lifting your head, you find Hercules wiping the sweat off from his brow before taking a seat beside you on the bench.

You quite forgot to mention that out of all this shit, you made a new friend. Hercules seems like a genuine guy, very caring, and coincidentally, you both share a lot of common interests. Never expected that Hercules, someone you were cautious of and made a rough start with, ended up being a part of your solace...

"Nothing, just..." Turning your gaze to look at him, you shake your head in dismissal. "Nothing..."

"Trouble with the training? I can help," he offers sympathetically.

"No, everything's fine luckily. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Hercules leans in, scrutinizing you with a hint of worry. "I can tell. You're looking a bit pale," he observes, his smile fading. "Leon has been torturing you quite a bit—well, for as long as I've been here, at least," he adds with a chuckle, extending his water bottle to you. "And most of what he teaches isn't even useful."

"Don't you have better things other than spy on us?" you retort in a joking manner, making him laugh as you accept it and take one sip. "Thanks. But really, Leon taught me a lot of things that I will definitely need."

⁤"Trust me, they're not." ⁤⁤Hercules insists. ⁤⁤Before you can respond, his gaze lands on the silicone knife nearby. ⁤⁤With a frown, he rises from the bench, draping his towel around the back of his neck. ⁤⁤"Stand up. ⁤⁤Let me show you something." ⁤

⁤Curious, you comply, standing up as Hercules reaches for the knife. ⁤⁤"Give me your hand," he requests and you extend your arm. ⁤⁤Gently, he takes a hold of your wrist. ⁤⁤He then places the knife in your hand, guiding your fingers to wrap around it properly. ⁤⁤"Like this," he demonstrates, holding the knife briefly before returning it to you. ⁤

He follows with the next set of instructions, his words pass in murmurs as his grip remains firmly around your hand. All too soon, and following his lead, you begin to mimic Hercules' moves, pretending to stab his shoulder, causing him to kneel, and then delivering a knee to his nose before he falls to the ground. With careful accuracy, you simulate landing a fatal strike to the side of his neck with the knife. "Just like that, nice."

Surprised by how smoothly you execute the move, you release your grip on Hercules and step back. "Oh wow..."

"See? Just keep practicing this defense until you're confident," Hercules advises. "It'll help you a lot."

"I'm the one who trains her," Leon's voice cuts through your closeness with Hercules, making you both turn to face him, the tension almost palpable in the room's air. "And what you're teaching her is how to stealthy kill someone."

"If she's in danger, she'll have to it in order to defend herself," Hercules casually responds.

You catch this typical now look on Leon's face—disbelief mixed with irritation. His lips are slightly parted as a sign of his frustration. He seems almost uncomfortable with the proximity between you and Hercules, but mostly, the intimacy of his touch.

"There are other takedown defenses, without drawing blood in your hands," Leon finally insists in a firm voice as he approaches the two of you, his eyes though? Locked on Hercules.

Hercules takes a step back, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Don't eat me, just wanted to give her some friendly advice," he quips with a mocking chuckle, though there's still the confusion in his expression. In yours too.

"You've been 'friendly' enough," pausing, Leon glances back at you before returning once more at Hercules. "But I'm the one who's been teaching her from the very beginning."

Hercules nods lightly in response as he takes in Leon's strict demeanor. "Now if you don't want anything else..." Leon trails off, leaving the sentence hanging- silently urging Hercules to leave.

"I don't." Sighing, Hercules gives the silicone knife back to you before moving past Leon. Just before he leaves, he mutters right behind him, "Let the girl rest tho. You've drained her enough..." Leaning closer to Leon, his voice barely above a whisper, he adds, "...for no reason."

Leon's head turns to the side, just to hear Hercules grabbing his towel, his steps gradually fade. Closing his eyes, Leon draws in a deep breath, his fists loosening until his gaze finds you. "Come on, let's continue."

With a nod, you both move onto the mattress, to resume where you left off. Leon jerks his arms lightly, loosening his muscles before taking his position. There is a subtle tension in his movements as he takes the secondary knife, his grip a touch firmer than usual, his gaze flickering at Hercules one last time, until the door of the training room closes behind him.

"Show me what we've done so far," he requests.

"Okay..." you reply, though a thought gnaws at the back of your mind. Why Leon was so defensive when Hercules offered his help? After all, Hercules didn't do anything wrong...

...Is Leon...jealous?

No. There's no way. Why would someone like him be jealous? Over you?

 As you began to examine the techniques together, the nagging thought persisted, but Leon's quick movements redirect your focus back on the specific training session...that turns into a dance between knives. 

Using his agility, Leon tries to uncover your weak spots or movements that might need honing, while your focus remains solely onto each tactic he has taught you. Your arms and legs moved almost instinctively, as if they had a mind of their own. The session involved holding wrists, twisting hands, kicking legs, and everything in between.

For a long moment, it feels like you're indeed into a knife fight with him, that you lose of course. Leon's precision is exceptional, his movements fluid and calculated, effortlessly predicting your every move. 

Before you know it, with a successful trip up, he's got you pinned to the floor, his hands forming a cage around your head as both knives slip from your grasps. You both look at each other, but neither of you don't know what to say.

Silence says it all.

For a moment, you forget to speak, the ambient noise from the training room becomes a faint blur. You find yourself simply lying there..looking up at Leon's face, every feature engraved into your memory like a work of art...It almost feels surreal how madly you have fallen for this person right atop you. And as you lie there, you can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to move on from him.

Maybe if he continues to act like a dick...you might be.

Leon's eyes move down to your lips briefly, the usual crease on his brows softening, as if he forgets the current situation you're in. After a second, you notice his face inching closer with hesitance, and a part of you begins to hope doesn't stop.

His head dips lower, and lower...until his lips beg to barely graze against your parted ones. His heavy breathing fans over your face and hair while for some unexpected reason, you don't take the chance to close the small distance. Closing his eyes, he sighs softly, and clearing his throat, he eases off from you, reaching for the discarded silicone item nearby.

You immediately follow, sitting up, feeling the warmness in your cheeks as you look around at the two soldiers finished with their workout and leave the training room.

"Good..." he manages, his breath still heavy as he tosses his knife aside onto the bag. "You did...good."

"Yeah..." trying to steady your own breathing,  you rise back on your feet.

Awkwardly, Leon takes the last knife from your hand, signaling the end of the session. "We're... done for now. You're free to go."

You nod, gathering your spilled belongings into your small bag and slinging it over your shoulder, before making your way towards the exit. Leon doesn't follow. He stays behind and walks up to the weight lifters, to focus now on his own workout.

Another training has passed, another is waiting for you in the afternoon...and another round of this awkwardness.

----

Tap, tap, tap...

The rhythmic sound of blood hitting the floor echo inside the dark and empty room. Within its shadows, the source comes from a figure bound to a chair, their weak heartbeat reverberating in the quietness. Fragile growls of pain rumble from their chest, head fallen to the side and eyes barely open...

It is only a matter of time.

----

11:25 A.M.

"Sakaoto-"

"No, no. It's Σ'αγαπώ (I love you)." Hercules corrects Luis, adding the Greek accent into the specific sentence. Luis nods and swiftly erases the mistake with a scrape.

"Saaaa..." he murmurs with the pen scratching against paper. "vaaa..."

"Ya," Hercules interjects again, making Luis correct the verbal error for the third time.

"bo-"

Hercules lets out an exasperated sigh at Luis' consistent mix-ups. "No, Luis- Po. With a 'P',"

"That's what I'm saying!" Luis exclaims impatiently, looking back down at his notebook to rewrite one of the few Greek words he's learning.

Beside them, Carlos lowers his files, joining the conversation with a bold question, "-Hercules, how do you translate: 'Fuck your mother' in Greek?" His question earns a raised eyebrow from Leon, who continues to focus on his paperwork while unintentionally overhearing the...odd conversation between the three men right at the table.

"Uh...what?"

"Why his mother specifically?" Luis asks. Leon quietly sighs, trying to maintain his concentration.

"Not his mother— I mean the phrase in general."

"You plan on insulting mothers in the future?" Hercules asks.

"Umbrella's mothers in fact-"

"Can you just study in silence?" Leon interrupts irritated, having them look back at him.

With a knowing smirk forming up on Luis' lips, he asks, "Why do you mind, Sancho?"

"Because we're here to stop Umbrella, not insult their mothers or learn Greek."

"Well, while I hunt for Umbrella, I use my breaks to learn Greek. I'm a master multitasker," Luis declares with an audible 'tch' and a shake of his head. "I swear you guys have a genius on the team. How many times do I have to remind you?"

"Who?" Carlos asks automatically, his clear confusion making Hercules chuckle.

"Me of course."

"And can't even pronounce 'sayapo' right," Carlos mutters mockingly, looking back down at his papers.

Just then, the doors swing open, and Piers strides purposefully into the base, his gaze scanning for Chris but instead finds the guys of the team.

"Where's the Captain?" he asks hastily.

"He was at the general's office," Carlos responds. "What's wrong?"

Piers retrieves and tosses confidently the documents right in front of the quad, having them all lean forward in curiosity.

"This guy," he taps on a specific picture of a man. "Does he remind you of anyone?"

After a brief observation, Luis, Carlos, and Hercules shake their heads, indicating their unfamiliarity with the man. However, Leon continues to examine the picture skeptically. The more he studies the features, the more his brows scrunch. "He looks familiar."

Piers smirks triumphantly, leaning forward with his hands supporting him against the table. "Let me refresh your memory: Raymond Carson, one of Umbrella's virologists. He was at the mansion in Cuba when they trapped us beneath in the laboratory," he leans back, flipping to another page. "And apparently, the only one alive."

"The only one?" Luis repeats slowly.

"Yes. Seems he valued his life and quit Umbrella. Now he's working as staff at the Hilton hotel under the name 'Nathan Carter'," Piers confirms.

"Looks like he didn't end his collaboration with Umbrella on good terms," Leon remarks.

"Not that I won't agree. He's now on the same list as us in Umbrella,"

At the peak of the conversation, Chris enters the base, barely acknowledging the rest of the members of the team. While he makes his way to the table, Piers seizes the chance, and pushesup to his feet, watching the Captain exhaustingly taking his seat. 

"Captain, we got something," Piers announces, handing to Chris the files, catching no reaction really from the Captain.

"Let me guess, you've discovered how many packs of gum Umbrella has purchased this week?" Chris taunts, looking up at Piers with sarcasm glimmering in his eyes.

"No, something far more informative," Piers asserts, reopening the first page himself. Chris's eyes immediately lock onto Umbrella's logo and the biography accompanied by the photograph.

"What's this?" he grunts, leaning forward. However, he falls silent the moment he begins to read through the details.

The confusion and moodiness on melts gradually into a smug grin of hope on Chris' face as he read's the virologist status. He feels that finally, after not weeks, but months of blindness, he can finally see a ray of light illuminating a path forward in their critical mission.

"Looks like we've found our inside man," Chris murmurs confidently. Closing the files with a soft slap, he hands them to Hercules, who is seated beside him. "Carlos, search for the Hilton Hotel. You and Leon are heading there immediately."

At the sudden order, Piers' face falls in disapproval, while Leon and Carlos exchange a contemplative glance.

"Why are you sending them there?" Piers asks cautiously.

"To ensure your intel is proven correct, Piers."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Piers presses, showing his concern.

"They'll just go to confirm his stay here. Then we'll see what we'll do from there."

Carlos types efficiently on his laptop's keyboard, locating only in a matter of seconds the specific hotel's whereabouts. "Well fuck the soul out of me," he grumples.

"What's wrong?"

"The hotel's located in Fayeri City. Which is four hours away from here." Carlos informs as his eyes remain glued onto the screen, specifically on the map.

"Then there's no time to waste further," Chris declares, his gaze finding Hercules. "Hercules will accompany you both, in case medical assistance is required."

"Fuck sake..." Leon mumbles under his breath, pushing off from his chair to reach for his jacket. Carlos follows next

"We will keep in touch."

"Be careful. We're not in any position to draw confrontation or notice." Piers warns the trio as he watches them get prepared for the quest.

"Should I join them too?" Luis offers.

"No, you'll remain here with Piers and me to continue our analyzation," Chris dismisses.

"I'll head to the laboratory then to take my notes."

As the men rise  from their seats, the group begins to disperse to their tasks. Leon, Carlos, and Hercules towards the exit, while Luis his way to the laboratory.

"Gosh, I nearly forgot about this!" A peal of laughter suddenly echoes from outside as the men reach the door.

The doors open and (y/n) with Claire appear at the entrance. However...the nurse's eyes lock with Leon's, her smile fades as for a brief moment, they seem to share an intense gaze. Something that doesn't go unnoticed from Claire...and especially Hercules, who stands right beside him.

--

Right after those seconds, Leon only passes by you, making his way out towards the corridors. Carlos follows next, with Hercules bringing up the rear, before Claire turns her gaze to you.

You attempt to overlook the unspoken contact, offering Claire a weak smile.

"Where are they going?" Claire asks next, walking towards Chris and Piers while you remain still at the entrance. 

"They're off to the Hilton Hotel. Piers discovered information that a virologist who was previously working for Umbrella might be working at that place under a different name." Chris explains.

Your face falls slightly at the news, a sense of fear for the team's well-being, especially Leon's, gripping your heart.

Turning to glance one more time, you see him waiting for the elevator, and surprisngly catch him trying to steal one last look in your direction.

Your fingers fight the urge to reach out and wave, arms remaining loose at your sides. Instead, you simply watch him until the elevator doors open, drawing his gaze away as he steps inside.

Once the elevator doors and the base's entrance close, your eyes shut next and sigh, running a hand over your face.

In silence, you decide to retreat to the bunker room, hoping to rest a bit after the intense workout with Leon. Perhaps you could even find a moment's peace, without your mind constantly being on him.

--

Piers shuffling through the pages, steals a quick glance at Chris, before the last door closes, leaving them alone inside the main room. Pushing up from the table, he strides towards him. "Captain, keep in mind that now we have valuable intel now in our hands. We have to trace carefully."

Chris looks back at Piers, and sneers lightly. "I'm the leader, Piers. I believe know a thing or two about handling situations like this."

"I certainly hope so." With that, Piers walks away from Chris, making his way inside the laboratory, where Luis just entered.

Chris' jaw tightens in response. He knows Piers means well. If not, better than anyone else. But he can also see him losing faith in Chris. Or even trust.

----

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

----

4:42 P.M.

You slowly close the book and wearily place it back onto the desk, while the soothing sound of Claire's voice chatting outside the room provides a comforting backdrop.

It's been a few hours since the team had left for the hotel, leaving the base eerily quiet, and you once again closed-up to the small bunker room.

Setting aside your backpack, you suddenly feel your phone buzzing. Pulling it out, your heart sinks as you see your mother's contact on the screen.

Taking a deep breath, trying to brace yourself, press to accept the call, and gently place the phone against your ear, ready to give another fake report to your mom. "Hey, mom."

"Sweetheart, everything good? I tried to call you since yesterday and you didn't pick up." Your mother's question comes off as concerned through the other line.

"Yeah, uh..." you glance accidentally at the door to find it ajar. Standing up, you quickly move to the bunker's door and close it behind you before you move back to bed. "Just been extremely busy. Sorry for not calling back."

"It's alright. Glad to hear you, that's what matters. How's Sweden? The hotel you're staying?"

Looking around the suffocatingly small room, your head twitches thoughtfully. "It's good...cozy."

"I'm happy to hear that. You sound happy yourself." Yeahhhh no, but okay. "Your dad and I are still quite saddened you left so suddenly, without even letting us escort you to the airport."

"I told you, mom. It was unexpected. The university needed me to audition in person and I found out last minute. In a few days, I'll be back. I didn't leave forever." You reiterated, hoping to quench her worries.

The first week, you had told her you were extremely sick. The second, you claimed to be drowning in work at the bar- For a time, you had even ignored her calls...Now, with no other options, you had resorted to telling her that two days ago, you had to urgently travel to Sweden for final duties related to the music school.

Anything to keep her and the rest of your family out of this dangerous mess. Because if something happens to them because of you, you'll never forgive yourself...

"Alright, if you need any money, be sure to call me."

"I will," you assure her, shifting lightly. "Anyway, enough about me. How about you? What have you all been up to?"

"Well, your father's off on a trip for the week. There's a meeting with doctors from all over the world in Paris, and he was invited as well, so I'm taking his place at the hospital for a bit."

"I see you finally got dad's chair," you jest, earning a sigh of tiredness from the other line.

"And I more than regret it... I didn't expect it to be this exhausting,"  your mother sighs, before continuing her report on the family's activities while...you are trapped here. "But yes, I'm taking good care of your father's chair. As for Ava, thankfully she finally started to take her job as a nurse and a mother more seriously."

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your brow furrowing.

"She finally comes to to the hospital in working hours and spends more time with her daughter."

"Ah...That's good...That's great..."

"Mhm, though you know who misses you the most? Irene."

You smile weakly at the mention of her name. "I miss her too." A sigh escapes you, running a hand through your cheek. "I still feel awful for not coming to her birthday."

"Trust me, she already forgot about it. Your wishes through the phone really made up for it. Especially your present," you both chuckle. "She made so many drawings, she gave me over ten!"

The smile fades as the definition behind the word bittersweet hits you again from the conversation. Bittersweet: when your mother told you that Leon paid a visit to Ava's place in order to give Irene her present, since you couldn't. That day...where Leon left his apartment without telling you where he'd go...just because he probably didn't want to sadden...or worry you. Another reason that was added to your regret list of how you rejected him.

"...I can imagine..."

"Speaking of the present, please make sure once you're back, you bring that boy Leon here for a dinner. Your father and I would like to properly thank him. He seems like a very caring friend." She emphasizes the word caring, making your brows rise lightly. The offer itself also surprises you. Why would dad want to thank Leon for? He just brought a present.

"Oh uh, If I'll have the chance, I will. But once I'll be back, I'll make sure to make a stop to Ava's first, so I can see Irene properly."

"Alright..." another pause follows before she slowly adds. "I'm...really happy for you, (y/n). I mean it. And your dad and I...both are very proud of you."

With a tired nod, your mother's heartwarming words trigger you, bringing welled-up tears to your eyes. The last time you heard her say those genuine words of support was when you got into the nursery school. 

Now It feels... such a relief to have her supporting your decision to finally pursue the career you've been dreaming of since you were a little girl.

"Uhm...I gotta go now. I'll be late for the auditions," you say hastily with a soft sniff, voice barely cracking as you feel that painful lump in your throat.

"Of course. When you're done, make sure to call me, tell me how it went."

"Will do."

"Bye, sweetheart. I love you."

"...Me too," you respond, ending the call with a soft click. Your hand lowers to your lap, your fingers gripping the silver device tightly.

You actually...miss them. Your mother, and even your father, despite the still strained relationship. Ava's craziness, Irene's playfulness...

Once all of this was over, you had a lot of work to do to fix...and appreciate more those relationships.

----

6:47 P.M.

"Why are you being so defensive? As far as I remember, we're not together."

"As far as I remember, we're not together."

"We're not together."

-

"Can I..ask you a few questions?"

"About?"

"(y/n),"

Julia can't help but faintly smirk. "Let me guess, you're an undercover detective and she's a criminal on the run."

I huff out a weak chuckle at her playful assumption. "Not really-

Just a friend, trying to look out for her."

-

"Hey uh," I clear my throat as I face her mother. "Name's Leon. I'm (y/n)'s...friend." 

-

A soft hiss rumbles from my mouth, my grip tightening on her skin as I pull her against me. My eyes fixate on her lips, and my hand slides back down to her hips, gently guiding her movements.

I bite my tongue, trying to swallow the best I can whatever I feel for this girl atop me. But the pleasure we're exchanging, and each time I look at her- I feel my heart is gonna burst. I feel a heavy weight against my chest. 

I can't do it anymore. I fucking can't. I fucking need her.

"I'm.....falling for you..." I pant out uncontrollably, breath airing against her whimpering lips. "I fucking am.."

-

"As far as I remember, we're not together."

That last sentence is nothing more than a hard slap to land me to reality. For a moment, everything passed in the operating room, the bliss from our lovemaking made me realize this. We're not together. 

We can't be together. As much...as I fucking want it.

Getting lost in her eyes as the memories flood in my head, I can see the regret morphing in face. She begins to apologize, saying she didn't mean it. But-

"You're right. We're not together after all. You're free to go out with whoever you want," the words come out of my mouth much more icy than I wanted. 

Three weeks later, and I still don't know if those words I said were words of logic...or j-

-

"Leon!" Hercules' voice jolts Leon back to reality, finding himself back in the car, instead with her. "Are you sleeping with your eyes open?"

"Huh..No..." Leon murmurs, choosing to ignore Hercules' mockery.

"Carlos wants the documents."

Turning to the side, he retrieves the files from his side's cardoor, handing them to Carlos, before he turns his gaze back to the building.

His fingers find and tap against the steering wheel as the car remains parked a few meters away from the Hilton hotel. Carlos in the passenger seat, studies the virologist's biography while Hercules sits in the back, ready to offer assistance if needed.

"He was born in January 3rd 1956, and has been working for Umbrella since the late 70's." Carlos reads, flipping through the pages. 

"He was there almost from the beginning," Hercules comments thoughtfully, prompting Leon to glance at him through the rearview mirror. "If you consider the corporation existing since '68."

"Exactly," Carlos murmurs, studying the documents. "What the hell could have happened now that made him quit now in all of a sudden?"

"Change in leadership, perhaps," Leon speculates as he continues his vigilant observation at the hotel's entrance. "But no matter the reason, we have to make sure he's working here."

"How though?  We've been here for three hours already and no one stepped out." Carlos grumbles in growing frustration.

"What if one of us goes in there?" at Hercules' bold idea, both guys turn their heads to look at him.

"Are you crazy? He will recognize us immediately, Piers and Chris then will cut our asses and flag them outside the B.S.A.A." Carlos interrupts, having Leon and Hercules look in light aversion.

"Well...you and Leon...perhaps. But I'm on of the few that escaped Umbrella's notice." Hercules responds confidently. 

Leon shakes his head, declining the suggestion. "No one's going anywhere. We're staying put until-"

Bam. The backseat door slams, cutting Leon off mid-sentence. They look out to see Hercules advancing toward the hotel, glancing around to ensure he's not drawing attention.

Sighing, Leon mutters, "Just great," resting his forearm on the window.

"You hate this guy with your life," Carlos observes, closing the files and handing them back to Leon.

"I don't hate him. But if he were dying of thirst, I wouldn't offer him my water," Leon replies stoically, watching as Hercules disappears into the building.

"He's got balls though, we should give him that."

Leon scoffs unphased. "Better not get them chopped off now."

A few seconds pass in quietude, both of them carefully looking at the entrance still, before Carlos breaks it with his voice once more. "I can't wait for this shit to be done."

"You and me both..."

Carlos then turns to Leon curiously. "Any big plans for after?"

Leon pauses to consider the question. "A vacation, that's for sure."

"Same. Gonna take Claire and-"

Leon's frown interrupts Carlos's words. "What about Claire?"

"What about her?" Carlos retorts.

"You said you're gonna take Claire and?"

"I didn't say that." Carlos dismisses a bit too hastily.

"Yes you did say it," Leon insists, making Carlos continue his denial.

"No I-" Carlos freezes, eyes darting to the window beside Leon. "He's out."

Leon follows Carlos' gaze and his brows furrow, stunned to find Hercules hastily rushing towards the car. "Already?"

As Hercules reaches the car, he opens the door and collapses inside as a panting mess. "He's in there...He works...as a groom," he manages to gasp out.

"Did he see you?"

"No, I was hidden near the entrance, and he was at the reception counter, talking to the receptionist."

"So...quest accomplished?" Carlos asks slowly, exchanging glances with Hercules and Leon.

"It all went too smoothly...don't you think?" Leon questions cautiously, facing only Carlos.

"What do you mean, too smoothly? It took us over a month just to locate one virologist who used to work for Umbrella," Hercules points out.

"How about enough with the talking and get going before the night sets in? We'll figure the rest at the base." Carlos advises. Leon nods, and turning slowly the key, he steers the wheel, guiding the car away from the hotel. The three of them settle into a tense silence, each lost in their thoughts as they begin the painful ride back to the base.

----

2:11 A.M.

Consciousness begins to creep back, finding yourself wrestling with a familiar sensation of nausea, saliva pooling in your mouth as unease settles in once more. 

Sitting up on the bed, your hand gently finds your stomach. You can feel the beads of sweat forming on your forehead fighting the urge to vomit. You start to get weaker. Sicker. The constant training, irregular eating of up to one meal a day, and sleepless nights start to show their heavy impact on your system.

Perching your legs on the edge of the bed, you close your eyes and try to push away this discomforting feeling by taking deep, calming breaths- inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth.

Your struggles to shake it off don't escape one's notice,

"(y/n)?" you hear Claire's whisper, propping herself up on her elbows. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit nauseous..." you whisper back.

"Again?"

"It'll pass," you reassure her, your damp hands finding support on the edge of the bed as you look back down on the floor, closing your eyes in an attempt to suppress the continued discomfort.

"Should we call Hercules? Maybe he'll be able to find a doctor-"

"I'm fine, really," you insist, hopefully not to concern her any longer.

Suddenly, a soft knock comes from the door before it creaks open, revealing Carlos' head cautiously peeking into the dark room. They're back.

"You girls are awake?" he whispers softly.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" Claire asks.

"We have an urgent meeting in the main room."

Urgent meeting? For what this time?

"Okay, we'll be there in a bit," Claire assures him, watching as Carlos gently releases the doorknob and moves back to the main room.

Claire rises from her bed, taking two steps to reach your side. "If you're not feeling well, you don't have to come."

"No, I'm feeling better."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah." You look at Claire with adoring gratitude, feeling almost blessed to have her still by your side after everything that happened these past months.

Standing up, you and Claire slowly make your way towards the door, until your hand finds Claire's forearm, stopping her from stepping out just yet. Claire turns her head, facing you with a confused expression. "Claire...thank you for being a great friend."

"Why thank me for something you'd do as well. Right?"

You offer a nod with a weak smile. "Right." 

Together, you and Claire slowly make your way out of the bunker room and right into the main room. All the members of the team were gathered, awaiting your arrival, and you and Claire walk towards the table, taking your seats among them. 

However, something seems amiss. There's some 'iciness' between the guys. Especially between the usual duo: Chris and Piers.

The rest of them: Leon, Luis, Carlos, and Hercules are just seated in tense silence.

"What's going on?" you inquire, surprised by this hour's unexpected meeting, being met with not a single response.

"Well. We're all here." Piers announces to Chris dryly, fingers lacing together as his elbows rest on the armchairs.

Chris ignores Piers and begins. "Leon, Carlos, and Hercules just returned from their quest to locate Raymond Carson. Piers' search is proven right. It's confirmed with success that he has been spotted at the hotel Hilton. And according to Hercules, he's one of the grooms," 

In the meanwhile, Piers' thumb fidgets almost impatiently, his gaze remains unwavering to Chris, who continues to talk. "Luckily, he didn't seem to notice him as they got into close contact. This works in our favor."

"You've said this earlier already. Thing is where do you want to conclude with this?" Piers asks, eyes remain unwavering from Chris.

Chris takes a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. His hands relax against the cool surface. "We will confront him."

"Fucking of course," Piers chuckles bitterly in disbelief. 

The team's reaction mirrors Piers', and even you exchange glances with widened eyes. Going after an ex-Umbrella virologist right now? It could only lead to more trouble.

"You want us to confront him when we are already on Umbrella's radar, Chris? Isolation brought you to insanity, didn't it?" 

Chris' fingers curl into fists, the air onto the table becomes tense. Heavy. "What other choice do we have?"

"Continue to trail Umbrella secretly and wait for them to make the first move," he continues with a shake of his head. "You need to understand we are a counter-terrorism organization. We can't take actions when none of the enemies have made it."

"I agree with Piers," Leon chimes in firmly. "If we attack or try to confront anyone who was associated with Umbrella, we'll get in further trouble."

"...The guys are right," Carlos murmurs, more of them beginning to take Piers' side. You don't speak. Not because you didn't make up your mind, but because you see the grievance on Claire and Chris' face.

"But is hiding in the bunker, avoiding action, the safest option?" Hercules challenges, clearly aligning with Chris, catching both Piers and Chris off guard. 

Because Piers clearly didn't expect that from Hercules.

The team can't split or separate now. Not now.

Piers shakes his head. "Carson had to change his name, move to another city to conceal himself from the corporation. We've worked tirelessly to protect ourselves, and you're just coming up with this reckless idea-"

"Alright then. Tell me, any of you have figured ANYTHING so far? Instead of just waiting for Umbrella to strike." Chris inquires, looking around the rest of the team, hearing no responses. A scoff escapes his lips. "Just as I thought. Your attempt to prove your point is useless, Piers."

"This isn't about proving any damn point!" Piers raises his voice. "Can't you understand that following this plan can cost lives?" 

 "Carson is a key figure in Umbrella's bioweapons program. Capturing him could give us invaluable intel on their operations. This is our chance to strike a blow against our enemies." Chris rises from his chair, towering over the others. "I'm a Captain of the B.S.A.A. for a goddamn reason, and I'm tired of running and hiding. It's time we went on the offensive," looking around the muted members, he adds, "Anyone too afraid to see this through can stay behind. But as far as I remember, all of you agreed to come back together and stop this nonsense before it escalates. If we don't discover Umbrella's motives here and now, they'll never stop hunting us."

I didn't agree to come back though...I had to.

Piers' leg bounces nervously as the silence lingers. It takes thin endurance for Piers not to snap. "I agree with your reasons. But I'm not going to let you blow us all up out of hasty decisions."

Nodding tightly, Chris retakes his seat slowly, coming up with a method no one's really prepared for, "We'll put it to a vote then."

Oh brother...

"The team will vote on our next move. In case of a tie, the leader makes the final decision. Is that clear?" 

Piers sighs, his jaw clenched in frustration. He has no choice but to abide by the leader's rules.

As everyone seems to already be picking sides in mute, you glance to your left and find Claire looking back at you, wondering who are you going to choose...

"Let's keep this short. Whoever chooses to go with Piers' plan, raise your hands,"Chris announces. After a few seconds, Luis, Leon, and Carlos raise their hands, aligning themselves with Piers' side. Your hand surprisingly remains on the armchair...

"And whoever chooses to go with my plan, raise your hands."

Hercules and Claire follow suit. But still...you haven't raised yours.

Chris counts, and then he meets your figure. "Two and Three. (y/n)?"

"...Yeah?" you answer quietly.

"You have to choose. Piers or me?" Chris's voice is firm, demanding a decision, not a single trace of gentleness this time.

The bomb is in your hands now, forcing you to choose between Piers and Chris—between a person from your childhood and a dedicated B.S.A.A soldier.

"Uhm..." you shift slowly, clearing your throat, hoping to buy more time. But the impatience in their eyes is palpable. "I'll go with..."

Your words fade once again, glancing between Claire...and Leon. The look at you too, waiting for the final decision.

All those pair of eyes on you, waiting for an answer overwhelms you. But without wasting any more time, you finally decide to choose: "Chris."

The room falls into a heavy silence. It's a tie. Piers's head drops in disappointment, while the men on his side remain idle, their dismay apparent. Chris nods, leaning back confidently.

"Well then. Tomorrow morning we're leaving for the Hotel. By sunset, Raymond Carson will be in this bunker, confessing everything," Chris finally concludes, seeming to terminate this meeting with his plan on the run.

Glancing shamefully at the others, you find Leon's disapproving look. You don't do or say anything. Instead, you avert your gaze.

Hopefully, this choice won't make you regret it.

----