Chapter 23 - Sweet Distraction

----

6:15 A.M

Leon's palm presses steadily right against the scanner, his skin carrying yesterday's fight. Knuckles bruised, split lip distorts lightly the left corner of his bottom and top lip, and a deep scratch etching his cheek where it fades into an equal bruise to his cheekbone. However, the physical aftermath is nothing compared to the internal conflict he is going through since last night. His mind is unwantedly constantly on...her.

But duty calls, and after Piers' urgent summon to meet at the base, Leon made the promise to himself: to single-mindedly focus on one objective—to provide assistance to the team and continue to safeguard the innocent.  No matter the distraction she might cause inside the base.

As the doors part, his eyes scan the surroundings in the interior of the familiar bunker, finding Piers walking out of Luis' laboratory. Carlos seated at the table with his arms folded against his chest and head bowed, lost in slumber onto the chair as Claire joins right at the table. Luis stepping out of the operating room, while Chris' voice murmured in the background, engaged in conversation over his earpiece.

However, someone's absence doesn't go unnoticed by him...

Without a word, Leon proceeds inside, his steps steady as he removes his jacket slowly, and drapes it on his chair. The only one who seemed to notice his arrival was Claire. Her eyes flicking in his direction, watching him as he settles into his seat. Leon's own gaze remains on the floor, his thumbs lazily fidgeting as his elbows find support on the armchair.

"How you're feeling?" she finally asks.

"Fine, I guess," he responds, avoiding looking at her for a bit. Both of them are well aware of the reason. Scratching the tip of his nose he jerks his head towards the table. "Any idea what's going on?"

"I don't know. I only got the call."

Leon nods curtly, looking away. The background chatter fades into a blur as they sit patiently in silence, neither he nor Claire exchange a single word about everything that happened just a few hours ago, especially their last interaction. His thumb brushes against his lower lip, a fleeting stinging sensation scrunches his features, but daring to subtly lick it.

"Alright, we'll make sure to keep it secure," Piers in the background reassures Luis with a nod. He then follows towards the leader of the team, while Luis retakes his own seat. Making eye contact with Leon, he lets out a low whistle at his condition.

"Dios, you look like horse shit," he teases with a grin, sinking down to his chair comfortably. 

Leon huffs. "Thanks for the compliment," he gruffly responds, looking back at the table.

When finally Chris concludes his call and takes his own seat, Luis playfully slaps the back of Carlos' head, startling him awake. Carlos groans as he reluctantly straightens up on his chair, mentally barely being here as his sleepiness is very much obvious. 

Chris sighs deeply, worry and concern apparent on his face as he addresses the team. His arms rested on the surface of the table, fingers tightly interlocked. "Alright, everyone-" he begins but pauses the moment he sees Leon's beaten face. "Leon, what happened?"

"Luchó valientemente por el corazón de Julieta y perdió la pelea ante el arma mortal de un rival malvado. Una botella de cerveza (He fought bravely for Juliet's heart and lost the fight from an evil rival's deadly weapon. A bottle of beer)." Luis dramatically narrates in his native language, earning an inward sigh from Leon.

"Someone zip this guy's mouth already," Carlos yawns, running a weary hand onto his face, still wearing the effects of his sleep.

The team chooses to ignore Luis's teasing as Chris refocuses on Leon. "After the meeting, go to the operating room so Hercules can check on your wounds. They look pretty bad."

Leon frowns in frustration, leaning forward at the mention of the specific name. "Who?" he questions, his expression darkening the moment he sees him...Hercules, stepping out of the operating room and casually taking a seat at the table—right where she was supposed to sit. He doesn't know what's going on. 

Where is she? And why this guy who left a member of the team behind so easily is back inside this base, sitting right on this table? However, Leon decides to stay quiet. For now.

Once Hercules settles down, Chris returns to the reason behind the meeting. "Thank you all for coming here, I know this 'urgent' call has left everyone confused. Especially after our successful extraction of the suitcase. But there's a possibility that perhaps we arrived too late." 

Everyone frowns at his last sentence. "All will be clarified," Chris looks at Luis. "Luis, if you would?"

Luis nods, rising from his seat and heading towards his laboratory. Moments later, he returns, nestling a nearly fully developed parasite enclosed in a small plexiglass box. With care, he positions it at the center of the round table, capturing the team's attention with the hideous sight of the now lifeless Plaga.

"Varium Plaga. The parasite Leon was injected with back in Cuba. This is a rare species that combines the dominant and subordinate traits." Luis explains shortly.

Chris nods as Luis retakes his seat. "We are speculating that this injection is linked to Umbrella, since the suitcase only contained the subordinate parasite, according to Luis' research," he says, looking at all members of the team. "Until proven otherwise, Umbrella becomes B.S.A.A.'s primary target."

"If that's the case, it means the Raccoon City incident could happen again," Leon says, eyes freezing in Chris' direction. By even uttering that sentence, momentary chilling flashbacks resurface, barely hours after the horrific breakout once again...

Leon's jaw clenches, his hand turning into a fist as the memories flood back with unbearable clarity. It's impossible for him to erase memories from six years ago, and he surely refuses to let history repeat itself.

Not this time.

"How can you be so sure that this injection was administrated by the corporation?" Hercules' voice breaks through in the background. "What if it was a sample that was inside the suitcase as well?"

"We haven't reached a conclusion. These are just speculations, Hercules," Chris reiterates firmly. "We're considering all possibilities. Our priority now is ensuring the parasite doesn't fall into anyone else's hands outside this bunker and is completely destroyed. Even if that means seven people going after a big corporation."

"If they are the source behind the specific species," Piers emphasizes.

"So...you're suggesting we reunite the team?" Carlos' questions hangs heavily, locking eye contact with the leader.

"Yes," Chris finally admits. "You all have been involved from the start and know what's been happening. I need your help to figure out if Umbrella is behind something dangerous related to the parasite's continuation. If they are, we'll take action and bring them down." Chris scans the group, waiting for a response. Leon speaks up first.

"From the time there was a whole laboratory beneath the mansion, it should be expected. Count me in,"

Along, Claire, and Carlos' agreement comes next. Chris gives a single yet heartfelt nod of appreciation.

"Thank you all. Again." He sincerely says, standing up slowly from his chair. "Piers, Luis, and I have already begun our research. We'll reconvene here at noon to share our discoveries. For now, you can all settle in- and welcome Hercules as our main doctor of the team."

Leon scoffs, looking away. He's trying his best to remain composed, for the sake of the team, and the heavy weight of the situation they're in.

"Shouldn't the previous team doctor be here as well?" Hercules suddenly asks. Chris' look hardens. "I think it's best if we inform her too. She plays an equal part since she was part of this, brought to Cuba too-"

"Forced," Leon sternly corrects, shifting his gaze squarely at Hercules. A silent tension takes over the group as they exchange discreet glances, waiting for someone to break the uneasy atmosphere.

"(y/n) was a simple civilian who offered her services by providing medical assistance to the team. Her wish was to stay out of this once our mission was completed. All I can do is respect it, and have you as her replacement." Chris states.

"Are you sure we're talking about just medical assistance here?" Hercules subtly presses. "Because she did more than that from what I have noticed."

"I prefer to end this conversation here, Hercules." Chris firmly says, looking ahead, instead of the military doctor.

Hercules only acknowledges with a nod as Claire's gaze moves to Leon.

Piers looks at Chris, arching a curious eyebrow. "Anything else, you'd like to add, Captain?" he prompts suggestively. Chris clears his throat, his expression appears clearly conflicted.

"No, that'll be all. Everyone dismissed," he declares.

The moment the team dissolves, Leon's eyes fixate on Hercules, who stands up and makes his way back inside the operating room. Without hesitation, Leon rises from his seat with his attention solely on following Hercules. Oblivious to his surroundings, he strides towards the half-closed door of the room. Peering inside, he observes Hercules settling his backpack onto (y/n)'s desk. With determination, Leon opens the door and steps in, approaching the new military doctor.

Hercules senses Leon's approach as he organizes his belongings.

"Leon," he acknowledges casually, without lifting his head. "Can I help?"

Leon remains silent for a moment, then forcefully pushes the backpack away from the desk. Its contents spill out, yet Hercules remains unperturbed. "Are you trying to intimidate me?" he asks.

"You have some nerve being in this room after what you've done." Leon instead replies, standing squarely in front of Hercules.

Hercules sighs, folding his arms against his chest and leans against the desk with his lower back. "We already had this conversation and I already apologized to the Captain for what happened back in Cuba. From the time I'm accepted back to the team, it means that I deserve a second chance. Doesn't everyone?"

"Easy for you to say that when it wasn't your life on the line." Leon retorts venomously.

"Everyone's life was on the line that night, Leon." Hercules firmly corrects him.

"It's not the same when an unskilled member is left behind with a fucking cult," Leon counters, taking a step closer. "And I will make this clear to you. Chris might have given you the chance, but I don't trust you one bit."

Hercules raises an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to sadden me?" he scoffs. "Not really the greatest time to hold grudges against your colleague, Leon. You heard Chris. We're a team again now, and we need to stick together to confront Umbrella, if they're indeed onto something," he shrugs. "Unless, of course, you're bothered by the fact that it's me here instead of someone else."

Leon's brows scrunch. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean," Hercules slowly stands up to get closer to Leon. "Just noticed how you and that girl, (y/n) were...close. Been here only for a day, but saw a lot."

"What's my relationship with the team's doctor is none of your damn business,"

"Fair enough," Hercules sighs, his hands dropping to his sides, deciding to drop the subject. "Need anything else? Because I have work to do."

"Yeah. To tell you that this," Leon gestures with his index between them, "isn't over."

Hercules chuckles bitterly. "You know, you might want to consider thanking me instead. If it weren't for (y/n), no one would have operated on you, and you'd be dead by now, rotting next to Saddler," he adds with a hint of meanness.

Leon's jaw clenches, but he doesn't speak. Instead, he turns and heads back out of the room. Right before he exits, Hercules' voice cuts through the silence,

"Oh, and If I were you, I'd be wary of the people I'm...'overprotective' about."

Leon's steps halt for a moment, turning his head to look at him, before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

Hercules shakes his head as he gathers the spilled items and returns them to his backpack. Setting order to the desk, he opens one of the drawers, and his gaze falls upon a single withered rose. Its once vibrant red petals now take the shades of cherries and browns, its leaves shriveled and faded to a melancholy shade of lime.  He chuckles softly as he reaches for it, his fingers tracing the outlines of the dried flower. The red, though faded, still reminds him of her.

----

You're violently slammed onto the cold, large metallic table, each member of the cult holding you from your arms and legs to keep you in place. Saddler's twisted, distorted smirk reflects the sadistic pleasure as he takes in your agony. His steps are slow and heavy as he approaches, his presence looms over you like a dark cloud, suffocating any hope of escape.

Without a word, a cult member that stands behind their leader reaches for a machete...their intentions couldn't be clearer enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Facing the side, you're met with the view of the same beheaded woman lying abandoned in a corner. The woman whose death has been hunting your dreams ever since this nightmare began, while, the rest of your supposed team stands passively behind the cult—Claire, Luis, Carlos, Leon, Chris, and Piers—all just specactors to the unfolding horror. They don't do anything. Just stand and watch you. This only heightens your frustration and your desperate desire to break free.

"Please...don't..." your voice trembles with fear and despair, tears mingling with the metallic tang of blood as you beg for mercy, your body shivering with sobs as you struggle against your restraints. "STOP!" The word tears from your throat, your voice cracking in a desperate cry for saving as the machete hovers threateningly over your exposed neck, its razor-sharp edge poised to serve a fatal blow.

The cult member slowly raises his machete as Saddler and the team watch your upcoming 'sacrifice'.

Right before the blade connects with force to your skin-

-

"No, don't-!" you gasp as you jump up on the bed. Begging for air, you scan your surroundings before your eyes until land on the lamp on your nightstand. Fumbling, you switch it on, relief flooding you at the familiar sight of your bedroom.

Your breathing begins to gradually steady. Clutching at your chest, you swallow hardly, your neck and forehead soaked with sweat, feeling nauseous from the vivid images of the nightmare you just had.

Pressing your forehead into your palms, you let out a shaky sigh. Nightmares, mainly those involving Saddler are still frequent because the wound is still fresh. Those illusions begin to feel too real, practically dragging you back to that night over and over. You thought that with time, you would slowly heal from that incident, but you only get worse. And it's pure torture.

The real question stands every time after waking up like this: Will you ever recover?

Slowly, you sink back into the warmth of the covers, pulling them tight around yourself as if seeking safety from the world beyond the blankets.

Turning onto your side, you attempt to push the haunting thoughts of the nightmares aside, until your eyes fall upon the clock. Almost 6:30, your day began, yet the darkness still envelops the atmosphere outside your window. Your gaze drifts to the partially open curtain, its clear sky offering its own comforting peace.

Finally grounding yourself in the present, flashes of just a few hours ago come back into your mind, replaying the moments with Leon over and over again. The conversation echoes, his unexpected mistake of kissing you, and the sensation of his lips against yours lingers vividly. But it all ends in confusion, leaving you craving answers and still unsure about his feelings for you.

You also can't shake off the memory of your own reaction. You didn't anticipate kicking him out of the bar's kitchen or causing him to leave the bar altogether. You feel guilty and wish you could explain, but you were caught off guard and panicked. Handling situations like this isn't something you're familiar with.

The way he kissed you though...It felt...natural.

Can he really be feeling the same way? How? So suddenly...

Regardless, the reality remains unchanged: there's no future for you and Leon. His job, your own dreams—they're incompatible. This is your constant reminder, and your decision doesn't change, no matter what. In three months, you leave for Sweden, so you must stay focused and prepare yourself.

Which speaking of it, perhaps right now it would be a good time if you practiced for a bit. Since today and tomorrow will be a busy day for you, seizing this moment for study seems the best choice.

Slowly moving your legs at the edge of the bed, you step onto a fluff piece. Looking down, you see a small, rabbit plushie right beneath the bed. A small comforting smile forms on your lips, bending down to reach it. Holding it in your lap, your thumbs slowly cradle the stuffed animal's softness.

No matter the challenges, without Irene, this house swallows you with paranoia, loneliness, and fear once again.

With a weary sigh, you set the plushie aside and get off from the bed to start your morning routine: a visit to the bathroom, a simple breakfast—or whatever's left in the fridge perhaps.  Then, a short study session before getting ready for another shift at the bar. And after that... the dinner you promised your parents. But throughout the day, Leon's presence will linger in your thoughts, if not completely consume your mind.

A sweet distraction.

----

10:45 A.M

Hours have passed, and the main room of the base appears to be deserted. Everyone is gone to their tasks, and Chris continues to be buried in his own paperwork, lost in concentration, and desperate to find the answers he's searching for. 

Even at this on-going mess, he has a glimmer of hope that his team was the only ones who left the now crumbled mansion with the samples. The need to figure out the truth behind Umbrella's relationship with the cult only fuels his stubbornness to dig deeper and uncover the new leader behind the corporation.

Minutes slip by unnoticed until the doors slide open, and Piers enters the room, where Chris is seated, palms against his head, and eyes facing down the papers. Piers stands for a second, before he walks towards him, both hands occupied with two cups of coffee.

"You didn't tell them," his voice breaks through the silence, handing Chris one of the cups. Chris meets his gaze, his expression tense as he reaches and accepts the warm drink. "It's a risky move," Piers continues, taking a seat beside him.

"I know," Chris murmurs, fingers locking around the warmth of the paper cup. "I just...need some time,"

"But the longer you keep them in the dark, the greater risk their safety will face," Piers bluntly states. Chris takes a contemplating sip of his coffee, the bitterness matching the weight of the conversation. "Any ideas on what you're thinking to do?"

Chris shrugs his shoulders. "Honestly? I'm lost I-.." he stammers lightly. "I was thinking by next week to install bunker beds..." he trails off, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "But all the members living here- hmph..I don't know."

"Moving everyone into the bunker should be our last resort, Captain," Piers advises, yet he notices that Chris barely can pay attention to his words. 

Truth is, Piers has never seen Chris so anxious. It's written all over his face, even though he doesn't admit it himself. His team's safety is hanging by his choices, and he has to move smartly.

"I need to know you'll stick with me, Piers," Chris speaks, looking back at his operator. "I need to be certain I can rely on you, that you'll stand by me no matter what."

"You're trying to tell me something?"

"That you won't reveal anything further without my permission to the team."

Piers remains quiet, his face softening lightly at Chris' confession. "You have my word, Captain. Your orders, my commands." Piers pledges.

Chris claps an appreciative hand on Piers' shoulder. Both of them take another sip of their coffee as Piers's thoughts take an unexpected turn.

"You know," Piers begins, carefully broaching the sensitive topic, "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but what if we consider bringing (y/n) back into the base too?"

Chris gazes at him in surprise before shaking his head in disapproval. "Piers-"

"I know, all those months I was against it, and I still am. But she can also be in the same boat with the others," Piers interjects to explain. Chris frowns in confusion. "Just think about it. She was in Rosewood, Cuba—carried out the suitcase, captured by the cult...There's no way Umbrella hasn't noticed her."

"Leon, Carlos, and Luis are far bigger targets for Umbrella."

"Or they would go for someone weaker.." Piers purposefully hints, catching Chris' shift to new worry.

Could she really be in the same position with the others?...

----

The sound of punching and grunting fills the training room as Carlos, Leon, and other B.S.A.A. soldiers work out. Some are sparring together, while others practice with training dummies or use the exercise machines.

The air hangs with the hot scent of sweat, mingling with the metallic scent of the weights and the sharp sound of rubber soles screeching against the floor. Across the room, Carlos grunts with effort as he lifts weights, his muscles straining and body slighlty shaking against the heavy resistance.

Meanwhile, in one lonely corner, Leon's fists hammer into the punching bag with a merciless force, each pound resonating inside the room. Veins pop out prominently on his arms, snaking a path from bulging biceps to his forearms, as beads of sweat glisten on his skin, trickling down his neck and pooling in the collar of his training shirt, staining the grey fabric with dark spots.

With each measured exhale, Leon focuses only the on delivering precise and powerful punches, intented on maximizing the workout for his arms.

Or he tries to...

-

The moment our lips break contact, my eyes open, facing her in surprise, letting me come to a realization of what just happened. My gaze filled with inner desperation, searching for a reaction, hoping I didn't do anything she didn't want to do.

I don't know why I did it again. I tried my best to stop it, knowing damn well that it shouldn't happen. But her lips felt like calling for my touch, and an unfamiliar need to kiss her was burning me from the time I got inside the bar. 

"W-what was that?" her flashed question pulls me away, her fingers slowly finding her glistening lips. My blood leaving its trace upon them.

"I don't know," I confess, my words barely audible. The atmosphere between us transitions with an awkward tension. "Do you?" I ask quietly.

Long silence hangs between us. Both of us avoiding eye contact. My bloody knuckles turn into fists, unable to get a clear answer. Instead, she returns the question that leaves me inquire what I really feel. 'Why did it happen again?'

And when your co-worker comes in, you just dismiss it - dismiss me like nothing happened. Stang harder than I can swallow. As much as I try, I can't fucking stop it.

-

With an exhale, Carlos sets the weight bar slowly on the matress, his muscles pulsate with exhaustion as he sits down. Grabbing a nearby towel, he wipes the sweat from his brow, the fabric absorbing the evidence of his own intense workout. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, while his gaze wanders around until they fall onto Leon's figure, where he remains mentally lost in his own world.

Standing up, he slings the towel over his shoulder, and passes through the training soldiers, finally reaching his colleague. Draping a lazy arm around the punching bag, he notices Leon's distant demeanor, his focus remaining elsewhere.

"Hey, how about we take a break and head to (y/n)'s bar?" Carlos casually proposes. 

The mention of her name jolts Leon back to the present, but instead of responding to Carlos, he redirects his attention to the punching bag. However, his punches grow stronger and more forceful, pushing Carlos back slightly as he grapples with the bag. His gloved hands tighten around the leather, controlled breaths leaving his nostrils, the sweat from the ends of his blonde locks jerking down on the floor.

"Damn, you okay? You're really going at it," 

"I'm fine." Leon grunts, his fists continuing to connect with the bag, leaving Carlos' suggestion hanging. 

Undeterred by Leon's curt reply, Carlos persists, "So, are we heading to the bar or what?"

"You can go if you want, I have work to do." Leon pants as he continues.

"Aight. Suit yourself I guess."

A sudden burst of laughter echoes from the distance, drawing both men's attention. With ragged breaths, Leon glances right in the direction of the sound, watching Hercules pumping fists with one of the B.S.A.A.'s soldiers.

Leon shakes his head, almost annoyed even at the sound of this guy's voice, delivering one last punch at the bag. The thud captures Carlos' attention, making him look back at Leon, sensing his displeasure.

"You don't seem too thrilled with Hercules joining back in."

"Why should I be?" Leon asks, removing his boxing gloves. "He dragged (y/n) all the way to Cuba and abandoned her without a second thought. And now Chris expects me to trust my life in his hands? Fuck no," he states, tossing gloves onto the wooden bench. "And you should've insisted on stopping him from bringing her along."

Carlos sighs, his expression filled with remorse. "I know, Claire and I fucked up too," he shamefully admits. "But it all turned out for the better. If she had stayed behind, you might not have made it out alive, Leon-"

"If she had stayed behind, she wouldn't be a witness to any of the mess back there," Leon cuts off sharply. With that, he grabs a towel, draping it around his neck, and begins to make his way towards the locker room, leaving Carlos behind.

As he walks, a tornado of mixed emotions swirl inside him. He doesn't know whether what he feels is either the extreme guilt from the times he got saved...or that something else he desperately tries to avoid.

His thoughts involuntarily drift to her more frequently now—flashbacks of the wet dreams, each kiss and interaction. He doesn't know for how long he can keep up with this-

This bittersweet distraction.

----

5:54 P.M

Emerging from the kitchen cautiously, you carefully balance the tray loaded with gleaming glasses. Steadily, with slow and deliberate steps you reach the counters and set them down on the surface. 

"All done," you announce urgently, pulling off your apron as you glance at Clay, who tosses the rag onto the counter before disappearing inside the bathroom.

"Where you're rushing to?" she asks, noting your hastened movements.

"My dad called for a family dinner, and it's something I simply can't miss," you explain, handing the apron over to her. "I hope it won't end up feral."

Julia chuckles, accepting the apron. "Well, good luck with that. Whatever it is."

"Thanks," you reply, quickly grabbing your purse. As you do, a novel and your wallet tumble out, landing behind the counter at Julia's feet. "Shit, sorry.."

"Jesus Christ, what do you carry in there?" Julia jests as bends to pick up the fallen items. Straightening up, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips as she reads the title of the book. "'A Heart You Hold'," she reads aloud, glancing back at you. "Please tell me you don't read shit like this when you're stuck in the kitchen."

Reason 1984782 of keeping your guilty pleasure hidden...

"No, no," you immediately interject. "It's uh, a book my sister asked me to buy for her," you fib, coming up with a quick excuse as you snatch your belongings from her. "Anyways, I should get going. See you on Monday."

Julia waves you off with a knowing smile as you make your exit. Work is done. Dinner takes place. God may be with you.

--

"It's me," he whispers through his earpiece.

"Anything?"

Silence hangs for a moment as he assesses the unfolding scene. He observes her scanning the parking lot outside Ben's bar before signaling to a car. Leaning closer, he figures the driver to be a woman, whom (y/n) approaches and joins in the passenger seat. "She's with some girl,"

"Have you seen her before?" Ada asks from the other line.

"No, not really,"  he replies, his focus fixed on the unfamiliar vehicle now in motion.

"Any other suspicious activity?"

"None," he responds professionally, tracking the car driving away from the bar. "I need to be back, or else they'll look for me."

"Roger. We fall back then. I'll contact Ares to take a sweep to her house."

--

From the moment Ava picked you up with her car, you two have not exchanged a single word at each other. Ava remains focused on the road as you peer out the window. The sunset goes down, another day has passed where you made...zero progress. All you do is think and dream, but you lack with actions.

"You know... Irene told me how much she enjoyed those five days with you," Ava finally breaks the silence. "She's really excited to see you tomorrow."

A faint smile plays on your lips, though you remain silent. After a few seconds, the silence returns before Ava sighs. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I was a total bitch for not letting you know I'd be late."

"You shouldn't be late in the first place, Ava. You have a child to look after for god's sake," you finally reply.

"You have every right, and I promise to make it up both to you and Irene," Ava promises, glancing back at you. 

"Yeah right," you mutter, skeptical.

"No, I'm serious! Cross my heart." she insists. You sigh wearily, leaning back in your seat. Promises like these are all too familiar, but right now, you're too mentally drained to dwell on them.

"Well...considering the hickeys, you had a good time at least," you comment with a faint grin, looking back outside at the moving scenery. Ava smiles as she seems to recall her moments with her new relationship.

"Yeah..he...picked me up from the airport, yesterday morning and we spent most of the day together."

"That explains why you didn't pick up the phone, hm?" you tease, earning a chuckle from her. But then it hits you—your parents have no clue about Ava's new relationship, and neither do you. The curiosity about the guy making Ava so happy nags at you. "So...when am I going to meet him?"

Ava shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "Soon."

You roll your eyes. "Translation: 'I don't trust you enough for that,' right?"

"It's not that. I just...want mom and dad to know about this first. The divorce."

You don't have a choice, but agree understandingly. "That explains it, I suppose...You're planning on telling them today?"

Ava shakes her head skeptically. "I don't think so. I'm not mentally prepared for it. Just thinking about their reactions, I get anxious."

You sigh, resting your elbow on the window sill. "They fucked us up," you murmur.

"Tell me about it..." Ava responds, her tone weighted with shared experience. "But enough about me. Let's talk about something more...intriguing," she suggests.

You turn towards her slowly, eyebrows raised in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I met your friends at the bar yesterday. As an older sister, I'm obliged to ask you if something's going on with one of the boys of the crew I saw."

Leon Kennedy.

You clear your throat, catching Ava's smirk at the sudden shift in conversation. "Oop- there is someone. I see, I see. You finally decided to put those novels aside,"

"Fuck no, romance novels for life." you proudly state.

"Come on, let's not change the subject and spill the beans. Which one of the three guys is the lucky one?"

Should I tell her? Fuck it...

"Well...there is something going on with the uh..the blonde one..."

"Like I didn't notice." Ava mocks. "Wasn't he the one who stopped by your house months ago?"

"Yeah, him."

"So spill, what's the deal with him? Did you two hook up and now he's giving you a hard time?"

No, he's giving you a hard time from the time you met him.

"What- no!" you immediately deny. "We didn't hook up or anything like it..he's not that type. Just a kiss...or two."

"No matter what type of guy he is, he's still a human being with needs, and if he's into you, sex will eventually come," she glances back at you. "And most of the times, it happens where you expect it the least."

You click your tongue, looking away, trying to disregard her words. Though...the thought of being with Leon like that surely sounds...tempting.

"I really don't want to talk about it, since I'm not planning on taking it any further," you admit, a tinge of sadness creeping into your voice. 

Ava's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not?"

"Well, If I do, I'll have to choose between my future and him, and I don't even know where we stand."

"So you really are going to leave, aren't you?" Ava asks. "And here I thought you did it to actually scold dad." 

"No. Nothing's changing my mind, Ava."

----

Leon closes the files with a heavy sigh through his nostrils, rising from his seat and making his way over to Chris. Only he and Piers remain in the main room, the end of the first day nearing closer.

For everyone else, the day seemed to fly by quickly, but for Leon, it seemed to be tortuously slow. Her absence is something he didn't expect to feel this intensely. Missing her could be an understatement...

Chris looks up as Leon approaches him. "You're done?"

Leon simply nods, handing over the documents to Chris. "Unless you need anything else,"

"Chris accepts the papers, his expression showing a mixture of weariness and anxiety. "No, everything seems to be in order," he responds, setting the documents aside.

"See you tomorrow," Leon says, preparing to leave.

Chris nods, but before Leon can turn away, he adds, "Leon, be careful." 

Leon arches an eyebrow at the warning, "You too," he replies in an unassuming tone, before slipping his jacket on to conceal his holster. With a quick adjustment, he ensures everything sits comfortably as he heads towards the exit.

As he stands before the door, it slides open, revealing Hercules' arrival. Their eyes meet, both pairs hardening slightly with tension.

Without a word exchanged between them, Leon walks past Hercules, their shoulders bumping harshly as he exits and Hercules enters. The rising empathy begins to be visible between the two of them already in the first day.

For now, a ride on his bike is what he longs the most...and perhaps, a visit to Ben's Bar later on.

----

7:00 P.M

A heavy silence envelops the dining table, suffocating almost, as if it's been a year since you sat down for a dinner like this with your family, and though you're with them, you're far from enjoying it. Not that it's surprising of course after everything that happened. Especially between you and your dad.

You lazily poke around your food with the fork, stealing glances at your parents who seem absorbed in their own plates. These people are the reason you're like this. The reason why you are waking up with sweat almost every night. And now, they are here, having this dinner, pretending like nothing happened?

Your grip tightens around the cold metal of the fork as your eyes turns to Ava. She, too, shows little interest in the food, merely pushing it around her plate. She carries her own burdens, caused by the same two people.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to take another bite. The clinking of knives and forks against porcelain is the only thing you can hear.

"So, any updates from your University?" your dad's sudden question slices through the tense silence of the dining room. His question catches you off guard, but you hold a composed cover.

"Uhm..no, nothing much," you reply softly, twirling your fork between your fingers. "Just one more video to send for the final auditions..."

Your father nods, his chewing slowing as he listens. "Mm, that's good, that's good," he replies casually, his attention momentarily distracted to his plate before he reaches for his wine glass. "And what about your savings?" he asks, clearing his mouth with a sip. 

Now that's a trap question. Your dad has the upper hand in every corner. If you tell him the truth, he will claim victory.

"It's alright. Making progress." A terrible lie, but moving on. "I still have three months to gather enough before I leave."

Another nod comes from your father. "I'm glad to hear you doing a great job already. It surely can be difficult, so, if you need any help, Mom and I are more than willing to give you some money as well," he offers, setting down his glass before resuming his meal with knife and fork. Your eyebrows twitch slightly at his words, once he steers the conversation to the subject this dinner is happening in the first place. "I know I said some things back at the hospital, but they were words spoken out of anger. At the end of the day, you're my daughter and I want you to succeed."

You can't help but scoff inwardly. Anger, he says. Just a month ago, he adamantly declared that you wouldn't see a penny of his money. Now he's suddenly offering help and supporting your decisions? To your experience, this sounds extremely sketchy, yep. You know his techniques far better now. 

"Thank you, Dad, but don't mind. I have a job that provides me just good, so don't worry."

Your dad hums in amusement, tilting his head impressed. A brief pause settles over the table as the four of you focus on your meals before he speaks again, his tone casual. "Speaking of it, where are you working now?"

"At Ben's bar as a waitress," you announce boldly, bracing yourself for their reaction. 

Your parents freeze mid-meal, obviously taken aback by your revelation. Clearly, they hadn't anticipated their daughter, who they consider to have a certain "high status," working in what they likely view as a "lowly" position at a bar.

"A waitress. At a bar," your dad repeats, his previously relaxed demeanor beginning to show signs of irritation.

"How come didn't you start tutoring somewhere or perform piano gigs at hotels or restaurants?" your mom softly interrupts, trying to keep a calm ground.

"If those opportunities were available, I wouldn't be working at a bar," you defensively respond. "Besides, the pay is good, and it's only for a couple of months until I save up enough to move out."

"Hah...well," your dad murmurs, leaning back. "As long as you'll have food on the table and your bills paid. That's what matters."

You offer a nonchalant nod, intentionally avoiding direct eye contact with your father as you return your attention to your meal. However, glancing back at him, you can tell under the act of a supportive father, he's fueling. It burns him that you're actually doing something outside of the hospital, but he 'tries' his best through gritted teeth to show sympathy. 

And truth is, you fucking enjoy seeing him like this.

"Ava, you haven't touched your food. Aren't you hungry?" your mom murmurs, placing her hand atop Ava's.

"No, I'm just waiting for it to cool down," Ava murmurs a poor excuse until she feels compelled to start cutting into her steak.

"Although," your dad persists, unwilling to let the subject drop. "I still can't quite understand this burning stubbornness to leave home and move abroad to pursue your passion for playing that piano,"

There he goes with the stubbornness again.

"It's not stubbornness. You said it yourself. It's my passion, what I love doing," you slowly say. You can tell that this conversation begins to tiptoe into deep and dangerous waters, that can flood you in a fight. "And I want to level it as my job."

"Of course, right," he corrects himself with a forced smile. "After all, you're 23 years old, with a promising future ahead. Pursuing a...temporary career as a pianist could help you get a refreshing break from your medical career. Let you breathe mentally, especially after the stressful task you took over," he adds, skirting around any direct mention of your work with Chris.

Temporary? Fucking. What?

"Hah...so this is what's all about, huh?" You ask, setting the fork aside. "You really think it's just some dumb excitement to become a pianist that will go away with time, don't you?"

"I don't think. I'm sure of it. Once you realize what money can-"

"Money, money, money and more fucking money," you cut him off, slamming the napkin against the table in frustration. "Really, you're embarrassing the title if you became a doctor only for that! It's like you don't even give a damn about human lives anymore, as long as you're getting paid!"

"Be careful how you're talking to me!" 

"I'll talk to you however I want!" you raise your voice back at your dad. "Because you-re-....You're suffocating me!"

Your father's hand slams against the table, causing you, your mother, and sister to startle as he rises from his seat.

"I've tried to be understanding, I called this dinner to reconcile," he speaks in cool rage. "But I will not tolerate such disrespect from my own daughter, especially when she doesn't know what it means to truly struggle!"

"Vector, please calm down-" your mother tries to speak, but your dad doesn't listen.

"I have sacrificed a lot to ensure you and Ava's happiness!"

"You didn't sacrifice shit! All you wanted was to parade around with your two perfect daughters becoming doctors!" you shoot back, matching now the same volume with your father. "If you truly cared about Ava and me, maybe I wouldn't be leaving, and Ava wouldn't have cheated on Aiden-"

The words slip out before you can stop them, and a heavy silence settles over the dining room as both you and Ava lock eyes, stunned by the unintended admission.

Your mother slowly turns her head to look at Ava, confusion etched on her face.

"What?" she whispers in disbelief, her eyes searching Ava's for an explanation.

Ava meets her gaze, summoning the courage to confess, "...I'm getting a divorce."

The forks clink down the plates. Quietude conquers the whole dining room at Ava's hesitant, yet brave words. "Aiden and I went to Linton City this week. We met with his lawyer to fill out the divorce papers..."

"God must be having the laugh of his life," your father chuckles disbelievingly, settling back in his chair.

"Divorce..." your mother echoes, equally shocked. "What- what really happened?" she asks, her eyes darting between Ava and your father, who sits with a leg bouncing impatiently under the table, fingers rubbing under his chin, awaiting an explanation.

"She cheated, Vera. Didn't you hear?!"

You turn your gaze back to Ava, your heart aching with pity as you observe her. It seems your parents' favored daughter is even more disappointed than they were with you. You don't know if that's actually good or not.

"I love someone else..."

"And you decided to do this to the father of your child," your father states directly, seeking clarification in your words. Ava lowers her head in shame, unable to meet his gaze. "You dare to call yourself a mother too,"

"Dad, stop-"

"You zip it!" he cuts you off, pointing a finger at you.

You fucked up beyond repair.

Your father huffs out a bitter chuckle, raising his hands in a mock display of surrender. "Great, I have two failures inside my house. One sleeping around like a damn prostitute and the other one is a walking disappointment!"

Vera gasps in shock, her eyes widening in disbelief at Vector's harsh words. You and Ava are equally stunned, feeling the weight of his cruel judgment crush what remains of the fragile familial bond.

"I'm out," Ava declares, rising abruptly from her seat and gathering her belongings before treading purposefully towards the exit.

"I'm going with her," you announce, following closely behind Ava as you make your way out of the room. Your dad? Doesn't bother.

"Ava, (y/n), please, girls-" your mother pleads, rising from her seat and hurrying after you. She reaches out to grab your arm, causing you to forcefully turn to face her. "(y/n)-" 

"You have no clue what I've seen there..." you whisper brokenly, your teeth grinding with each word, as you push away from your mother's attempt to comfort you. With Ava already gone, you follow suit, stepping out of the house.

No matter how much you try to explain yourself to them, they'll never understand. Ever.

--

The door slams shut behind them, leaving Vera's gaze settled on the closed barrier. She knows that she and Vector are the only ones responsible for this outcome—a failure she had desperately hoped to avoid when raising her daughters, but it was too late to prevent.

Vector slams his fork against his plate in frustration as he stands up. "I'm going upstairs-"

"No," Vera interrupts, her voice firm as she turns to face him. Vector's steps falter at her words, surprisingly complying for once. "We need to talk. Now."

--

You take deep breaths, attempting to calm your rage as you watch Ava walk towards her car. You can clearly sense and hear Ava's side, and you can't help but feel responsible for her noticeable irritation, anger, and distress. Your own anger vanishes immediately.

"Ava, I'm sorry-" you begin, but she quickly raises her hand to silence you.

"Stop," she firmly says. You nod understandingly as you watch the first tears escape her eyes. "I told you wanted to tell them myself, and you didn't respect that."

"But I didn't mean to tell them," you stutter. "I was just so mad with Dad, the words automatically slipped out-"

"That's not a fucking excuse, (y/n)!" Ava interrupts, her voice rising with frustration. 

"Ava it's not my fault if you-" 

"What? You're gonna call me a whore as well?" she challenges, her voice breaking further as she confronts you.

You stand there, at a loss for words, as she continues to unravel before you. Her words strike you harshly, making you look at her with empathy. "I just-...wanted to feel what's like to be loved by someone you love again. Is that a crime?"

Ava's story is more complicated than you could imagine. The more you get involved into her part, the more you realize that Ava was always looking for your parents' reassurance. It wasn't just Aiden.

Remaining silent, you start to slowly walk towards her. "It's not..." you murmur. "I can't understand your situation, Ava...I really can't," you place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "But for now, set everyone aside, and try to prioritize yourself and Irene. You still have a daughter to look after. Trust me, it's better they found out now,"

"...maybe..." Ava nods, sniffling.

With gentle reassurance, you slowly pull Ava in a comforting hug, allowing her to find solace in your arms. As her sobs gradually subside, you release her slowly, offering a supportive smile.

"Come on, let me take you home," Ava suggests as she wipes her tears, reaching for the door handle.

You shake your head, feeling the need to clear your mind. "No, I'll go by foot. I just... I need to sort things out in my head."

"Are you sure?" Ava asks, concern evident in her voice.

You nod resolutely, watching as Ava unlocks the car door. "Okay. Call me once you get home."

"Alright," you say as you watch Ava slowly get inside the car, "Take care of yourself okay? I'll see you and Irene tomorrow."

She nods, as you watch Ava settling into the driver's seat. With a final wave, you stand back as the car pulls over, and drives away.

Taking a deep breath, you begin your own path to your home. Though you're mad at how things ended tonight, it's not something that you didn't expect. It's your parents after all.

The following minutes pass in a cloud of a damn fog. Lost in a haze of frustration and hurtful words, your mind churns over your father's cutting remark: 'A walking disappointment'. Is that truly all you are to them?

Your body moves mechanically, walking on autopilot along the familiar route home. Your steps are slow, barely registering the people passing by you on the sidewalk.

Stopping outside a storefront, you stare blankly at the random items displayed in the window, trying to distract yourself from your fight with your parents, and the situation with Ava. Suddenly, a frown creases your brow as you catch sight of a car slowly pulling to a stop on the side road just a few meters away from you from the reflection of the glass. Straightening discreetly, you continue to observe, until you see two men inside the sleek grey vehicle, their eyes seemingly fixed on your direction.

An automatic shiver snakes down your spine as you take a cautious step back, resuming your walk with forced nonchalance. The car remains still, but the sense of unease still gets the best of you.

Choosing a different path, you quicken your pace, finding a corner to walk at, where you want to test, whether they'll follow you or not. Still, nothing. Taking a deep breath of relief, you take another route that will lead you to your house, without exposing you further to them.

These men in the car seemed to know you, but you've never seen them before. Their formal clothing, sterness...

The first thought that they could be possibly related to your job with cult pops up. But no. How? It must be in your head. Just another paranoid thought. 

Right?

----

8:22 P.M

Leon pulls up outside Ben's Bar, the engine of his bike purring to stop before he swings his leg over the saddle. Adjusting his jacket, he walks towards the entrance, the neon glow of the bar sign and the muffled clinks and laughter signaling its opening.

As the heavy doors push open with a creak, Leon's eyes sweep over the crowd, searching until they land on Julia, focused on her tasks against the counter.

Walking towards her, Julia notices him and immediately recognizes him.

"Well, look who's here. Leon, right?" she greets him, her tone welcoming and playful as she leans casually against the polished wood of the bar.

"Correct," Leon responds, though his attention seems to be elsewhere, taking in the atmosphere of the bustling public.

"What can I get you? Drink's on the house after your heroics yesterday," 

"Appreciate it, but I'm not here for a drink, actually," Leon admits, returning his focus to Julia. "Is (y/n) here?"

"Nah, she took off a couple of hours ago," she replies, her eyes lingering on Leon curiously. "Needed her for something specific?"

Leon shakes his head slightly. "Not anything important," his gaze drifts across the shelves adorned with a collection of liquor bottles and he decides to settle on the bar stool. "But on a second thought, pour me a whiskey, yeah?"

Julia nods, moving towards the shelves where all the bottles are gathered, reaching for the famous Jack Daniels. With practiced ease, she pours a fair amount into a glass while Leon's gaze continues to scan across the room, searching for familiar face- or three perhaps.

"I hope no unwanted guests paid a visit today."

"No, they didn't," Julia chuckles, sliding the glass towards him. "And surely not any time soon after yesterday's chaos."

"Thanks," Leon murmurs, accepting the glass with a grateful nod before taking the first, yet thoughtful sip. His eyes move on the neat liquid swirling in the glass, his mind seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he looks up at Julia, finally deciding to speak up. "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."

Leon huffs a weak chuckle. "Not really. Just a friend, trying to look out for her."

Julia's grin softens into a sympathetic smile. "I get it. But truth be told, I don't think I'm the right person for that because I don't know much about her. We've only been working together for about a month. All I know is that she used to be a nurse and now she's saving up to move abroad."

Leon's expression falters slightly, surprise etched on his features. "Aboard? Where?"

----

I'm gonna be completely honest, I never hated a chapter my entire life. The events of Chapter 23 changed about two times.

Next update will be up sooner! Take care of yourself and have a great and lovely day! <3