Chapter 26 - Keep On Falling

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BEFORE YOU PROCEED READING, PLEASE BE ADVISED:

⚠️This chapter contains an extremely graphic description of sexual themes. If you're under 18 or you feel uncomfortable you can skip that part that starts with this (!!!), and read the rest where it starts with this (*)!⚠️

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2:15 P.M.

Taking a deep breath, you turn to observe the operating room, your final belongings neatly arranged on the counter. And the chair...the medical tools-

Closing your eyes, the uneasiness returns. All this feels worse than any nightmare about Saddler. First you 'temporarily' lose your job, and now you 'temporarily' return back here without left a choice, all because you are targeted for simply wanting to do a favor to people from your childhood. Now that you're back here—it feels all the steps, all the hard work you did to get away from this was for nothing.

With another weary sigh, you rise from the counter and grabbing your purse, you approach the locker, forcefully shoving it inside along with your denim jacket, the frustration showing through your actions. Goddamn, this is too much for you to handle. But you still cling to the hope that in just under three months, this suffering will be behind you once again.

And you won't see Leon for four years. Or never again...

Resting your head against the back of your hand, you close your eyes, barely hearing the inaudible chatter from outside. Shortly, the sound of the door knocking and slowly opening, makes you turn your head to see Claire, standing silently, holding onto the doorknob. Without saying anything, you return your attention back to the locker.

"Hey..." her voice breaks the awkward silence, delicately stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"Hey," you greet back dryly, eyes not meeting her.

Moving closer, Claire leans against one of the lockers. "Did you settle up alright?"

"Not that I had anything to bring here."

Claire nods understandingly, her hands finding their way into the back pockets of her jeans. "How're you holding up?"

You only shrug, almost nonchalantly in response.

"Look, I know this situation is...beyond messed up," Claire says, "but remember, it's temporary. We will bring down Umbrella. Soon."

"Soon," you quietly repeat. "You sound too confident, Claire."

"I'm optimistic."

"Your optimism doesn't make any sense," you interject, irritation appearing beneath your words. "Seven people going against an entire corporation, while they're after us?"

"We did it back then when we didn't even know Umbrella was included, and we'll do it now. And look at Leon—he's survived cults, infected, and bioweapons coming after him. He's still standing."

At the mention of Leon, you look away, your fingers tightening around the locker handle before you finally close it with a sigh. "Just think," Claire continues, trying to enlighten your mood, "once all this is over, you'll have enough to start fresh in Sweden."

Sweden. This has now become a constant reminder. And before, it was a source of escape and freedom, thinking about it. But now... why does it bother you?... Do you...really want to leave anymore?

"...I already have the money," you admit quietly.

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

"My mom stopped by this morning and handed me a paycheck. Enough to start packing even today."

"Your mom," she echoes, taken aback. "Well, that's unexpected."

"Yeah," you reply with a scoff. "But I guess I won't be able to leave until this mess is actually over."

Claire slowly crosses her arms. "Is that all?"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, but you don't seem to be sad about having to stay—or eager to leave. Not like the excitement you had just a few days ago."

Why is she right? Why you don't feel...sad? 

Clearing your throat, you look away. "I don't know what you're talking about," you insist, unfamiliar guilt flickering in your eyes. "Of course I can't be excited when I find out my life is in danger."

"That's not what I'm talking about-"

An abrupt end comes to your conversation with Claire as the door swings open, and Luis appears right at the entrance, the characteristic smirk playing on his lips, stepping inside.

"Ah, a purpose to start entering this room again instead of just visiting the base for Claire's beautiful eyes," he greets, hands behind his back and gives you a playful before making his way towards you.

A soft chuckle escapes you as Claire rolls her eyes. "What do you want, Luis?"

"I've got a very special gift for the Rosa of the base," he announces, pointing at you with his gaze you. "What do you think I have behind these hands of mine?"

"A bouquet, perhaps?" you joke lightly and Luis teasingly shakes his head.

"That's surprising," Claire comments under her breath.

"Tch, tch. Something more...interesting."

You raise an eyebrow as Luis wastes no time in revealing a dossier to you. Frowning, you slowly accept it, and upon opening it, both you and Claire lean back, your faces contorted in disgust at the sight of a Plaga staring back at you from the first page. "What the hell is this?"

"How can you not recognize it? It's Leon's child right after birth. Back at the mansion, remember?" Luis explains, glancing at the image, before back at you. "I've arranged the species' powers, effects, and the symptoms in the human body. You should study it, just to be informed."

"Thanks, I guess..." you mumble, flipping through the pages with the parasite you removed.

"Anyways, I'll head to the Wiskays to get some food to our stomachs," Claire says as she walks towards the door. "(y/n), you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks."

"Hey, now, let me be your ride, eh?" Luis purrs, striding confidently towards Claire's side. "You need someone to protect you now."

Claire laughs,and you watch them as they make their way together out of the room, leaving you in your loneliness once more.

"Wair till Chris hears you,"

"What do you mean, eh? I'm just offering my company and security services to a beautiful woman like yourself..." Their banter begins to fade as Claire opens the door, revealing a glimpse of the main room. Lost in thought, you catch sight of Leon in his seat, his chin resting on his knuckles as his gaze wanders somewhere ahead. As Luis steps out, his attention shifts to the operating room, and his eyes meet yours.

You lock into a short but intense eye contact, a silent exchange passing between you. His eyes seem to hold unspoken words, emotions that are too complex to articulate. This moment lingers until the door closing breaks the connection, pulling him out of your sight.

As much as you try to convince yourself that you should move on from him, you can't when he's the only person who seems to understand you no one than else right. And how distant he appears to become once more, kills you.

----

"We confirmed her survival. The nurse is alive," one of the soldiers reports, delivering the new information to Wesker, who remains confidently seated in his chair, listening intently. "She's getting ready to move abroad to Sweden to study at a music college. She was last seen this morning at a local toy store."

"Any important location reported to be at, after?"

"No, sir. We lost visual."

Wesker leans back in his chair, considering the news. "Abandon the medical field to become a musician?" he muses thoughtfully, his hands slowly interlacing. "I'm afraid we can't let that happen. I need my personal doctor," looking back at the soldier, Wesker finally orders, "Proceed with the plan. Seems we don't have much time."

The soldier nods in understanding, prepared to execute Wesker's orders. However, just then, there's a knock on the door of his office. Wesker's gaze shifts towards the sound, and he commands, "Enter."

The door opens, and two guards stand before him, his most valuable Bioweapon in the middle, stepping inside without his permission. Wesker observes the scene before him, then glances at his colleague, silently instructing him to leave and give them privacy. Without a word, the soldier exits the office, closing the door behind him.

Alone with his Bioweapon, Wesker finally speaks,

"Anything I can assist you with, Krauser?"

Krauser responds with slow steps, approaching him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out some pictures, tossing them onto the desk in front of Wesker.

Wesker picks them up and sifts through them, finding photos of Leon on his bike, leaving a bar, and entering the B.S.A.A.'s building. "Just like you have your people, I have mine too. He made it out. You lied to me."

With a casual tidying, Wesker arranges the photographs into a neat stack before placing them back on the desk. "It is only a matter of time for this to change."

"No," Krauser interjects firmly. "Leave the rookie to me. I need him alive."

Wesker lets out a bitter chuckle. "Your 'rookie' only stands as an extra obstacle. The team captured the suitcase, Leon got the parasite removed in time, and the sample is still in the wrong hands, or destroyed. Your plan failed."

"Our plan," Krauser corrects him, stepping closer to Wesker's desk. "We both have our wantings in this story. Capturing Kennedy was our very first objective ."

"Ada has the sample," Wesker repeats slowly, his features scrunching. "Any chance to infect Leon now is gone."

"Find a way to get it back. We've been in the dark for too long and my patience runs out at this hide-and-seek game," threateningly says, his gaze darkening. "I either remain your best ally, or your worst enemy. It's your choice, Albert. Choose wisely," leaning back, he looks at him with certainty, before getting back on his feet, walking out from his office.

----

"Why can't I see you?"

"Because I'm really busy,"

"This is what I've been hearing for a week now, Chris."

Chris runs his hand over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to compose himself, the phone firmly pressed against his ear. How is he supposed to explain Vector and Vera about him and Ava when he's become a threat not only to her life? "Things are more complicated...I can't explain much but-"

"But?"

"..." Chris hesitates, unable to speak. Instead, he closes his eyes, hearing Ava's resigned sigh on the other end of the line.

"Will you be able to stop by tomorrow at least?" 

"I don't know, Ava..." he whispers into the phone, his gaze moving around to see if anyone's near.

"Please, Chris. Tomorrow, it'll be a great opportunity to tell my parents we're finally together, and for you to also meet my daughter."

"You present it as if it's easy enough to speak to your parents about us."

"Isn't it?..." a pause occurs between two lines. "We've been hiding all this for more than eleven years. We're not teenagers anymore to ask for anyone's permission."

"I know..." Chris trails off, skeptical enough. "Listen...we can meet up tonight, once I'm done with work. At my place—just to talk," he emphasizes the last sentence. "There's...a few things you should know."

"Okay." Ava responds, finally conceding.

"I'll call you when I'm done...I love you."

"I love you too, Chris."

With that, Chris looks at his phone's screen before hanging up the call. Closing his eyes, the conflict of whether to tell her or not lingers. If he doesn't, her parents will once they learn about their relationship. But if Chris tells her himself, he might expose her to danger too—

"Who were you talking too?" Claire asks as she sets the food down before him.

Chris' head snaps in her direction, hastily pocketing his phone. "Just the General. Updating him about the team."

"Instead of going to his office?"

"He was busy," Chris insists, settling down to open the plastic lid of the hot meal.

"I see..." Claire chooses to overlook, leaning down, her head close to Chris'. "Tell the General that I love him too next time," she teases before straightening up and walking away.

Chris closes his eyes in shame, his hand finding his face once again. Goddamnit, Refield.

----

4:00 P.M.

Hercules gets off the cycling machine,reaching for the towel dangling conveniently nearby to mop the beads of sweat from his brow. Inside the bustling place, his eyes find Leon- the training room's now rat, relieving his stress and anger onto the punching bag...as usual.

Describing Leon as thoughtful would be accurate, but it barely scratches the surface of his current behavior. There's something more to it. Concern? Fear? A combination of both?

Returning the towel to its place, Hercules strides over, exuding confidence. For a short moment, he leans against the iron pole of the punching bag and watches Leon's relentless assault on the leather surface.

"Quite sloppy punches you threw there," Hercules remarks, eliciting a barely audible scoff from Leon, his attention still fixed on the bag. "You need to bend your wrist further so the knuckles can have immediate access and land more effective hits."

"Noted," Leon quietly mocks, before striking a few more punches that gradually grow harder. Hercules remains unfazed, continuing to study Leon's technique for a few more seconds.

"So, (y/n) is back." Leon doesn't reply, so Hercules continues, "Seems like your wish came true. No longer have to worry about your life being in the wrong hands."

With a frustrated sigh, Leon turns to Hercules. "What do you want?"

Hercules shrugs nonchalantly. "Nothing much. Just thought I'd chat with my partner. Is that a crime?" 

"Thanks, but I'm not in the mood for that." Leon dryly responds.

"Suit yourself," Hercules replies casually, turning to leave. "Oh, if you ever need help with your punching technique, you can reach out."

Leon clenches his jaw as he sees Hercules walking towards the weightbars.Unable to focus on his workout, he removes his gloves and reaches for his bag, retrieving a bottle of water and taking large gulps to quench his growing thirst.

Soon, he is met with an image he never expected to see. Luis passing by Hercules, slapping in a friendly way his shoulder as he begins to jog towards Leon- wearing a tennis skirt? The sight along draws laughs and funny looks soldiers' faces—at how a biologist is walking around like white-clothed rich dad, heading to golf.

"You seem upset," Luis greets casually, stretching his muscles. "I thought with Senorita's return, you'd be out enjoying yourself instead of stewing in the training room."

"What the hell are you wearing?" Leon asks instead, noting—the high socks, headband encircling his crown, and the unmistakable radiance of the white clothing.

"Just some professional workout gear," Luis casually replies, looking down at himself. "Carlos said these are the real deal. Great to start my gym-life, eh?"

"I think you should stick to the lab," Leon suggests, earning a chuckle from Luis.

"Mi ingenuo, pequeño agente (My naive, little agent), I am born to work out, and I will rock it with these."

"Luis-"

"Hey, Sera!" one of the B.S.A.A.'s soldiers approaches the duo, a smug grin on his lips as he extends a wrapped tampon towards Luis. "This fell off from your skirt."

Luis's frown deepens as he reaches out to take the wrapped item, his expression shifting from confusion to annoyance as the realization starts to dawn heavily upon him. Carlos and his stupid pranks.

Meanwhile, Leon holds his cool, completely unfazed by the immaturity of the situation. However, a raised eyebrow betrays his curiosity: Where did he get that?

"Tonto del culo..." Luis curses under his breath, ripping off his headband, and striding angrily towards the locker room, where Carlos is.

Leon watches Luis' with a furrowed brow, choosing to focus on his own task of putting in his gloves instead. However, his attention is soon drawn back to Hercules. The perfect soldier...

----

8:22 P.M

An hour, thirty-eight minutes and seven seconds....An hour, thirty-eight minutes and six seconds...

Your thumbs fidget lazily, your mind lost in random thoughts, and the countdown echoing in your head, mingling with Chris' voice droning on in the background. It's only a bit more than a half hour before the night officially arrives, and more than an hour till you leave the bunker.

An hour, thirty-six minutes and fifty-eight seconds....And hour-

"...which means working in pairs," Chris's voice breaks through your reverie, bringing your attention back to the meeting. "Also, now that (y/n) returns with her medical assistance, she will take care of you all, only— I repeat, only, inside the base. Hercules will handle first aid during operations, just like we agreed in the very beginning."

"Sounds good," Carlos echoes, nodding in agreement.

Chris returns the gesture, concluding the second meeting of the day. "Everyone dismissed..." he stands up, and the rest of the team follows suit. "Leon, come here for a second, I need to talk to you."

You rise from your chair as well, barely acknowledging the others at the table, and make your way immediately back inside the operating room.

The first day back at the base passed...and thankfully quickly. All those six hours, you remained inside this room, trying to lose yourself in the world of romance, but you couldn't. By the end of this day, you find yourself wishing that you'll wake up the next morning to find everything and everyone gone.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts and before you can reply, you turn to see Hercules creaking open the door.

"Hey," he steps inside, still holding the doorknob as he looks at you with slight concern. "You alright? We didn't get to talk today."

"Hi, yeah-" you greet him, clearing your throat and standing back up, scratching the back of your head. "I'm fine, just re-adjusting. And trying to sink in that I'm back here again."

Hercules chuckles sympathetically. "I see. Not that I can blame you. Caught me by surprise too, not going to lie. I had to fly back from Japan overnight when Piers called for the urgent meeting when the team had to get back together," he explains, pushing the door gently behind him. You share a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Can we...talk for a second?"

You nod, curious enough about what he possibly wants to discuss with you. Hercules leaves the door slightly ajar as he approaches you, his hands hanging loosely by his sides as he meets your gaze.

"Listen, I know we started off...the wrong foot, few months back,"

"The wrong foot....?" you slowly ask.

"The mission in Cuba," his clarification, makes you uncomfortably rest your lower back against your chair. "I almost forced you to follow, set your life in danger, and left you behind. Foul move and very unprofessional of me," he admits softly.

"Okay, I understand, but I really want to leave this...mission behind me, you know. Let's just forget about it," you say, hoping to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic. Ironic how this is what you say to everyone who mentions it, yet you, yourself are unable to do that.

"Only if you let me make it up to you—by grabbing some dinner perhaps? My treat, of course."

You blink in surprise at his invitation. "Dinner?"

"Completely friendly, I promise," he quickly assures, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Think of it as...two doc-colleagues taking a break from work."

You stand for a few seconds, thinking whether you should accept Hercules' offer. Just a friendly dinner with a fellow military doctor, huh?

"Well, if it's completely...friendly," And 'your' treat... "Then sure, why not?" you complete with a faint smile.

Hercules returns the smile in response. "Glad to hear that—"

"Am I interrupting?" a voice suddenly echoes from the door, making you and Hercules immediately turn your heads at the door. That's where Leon stands, right at the doorframe, darting his gaze from Hercules to you.

"Hey, Leon," Hercules greets him causally, taking a step back from you. "You couldn't really interrupt anything."

An awkward silence drops, with Leon's cold eyes remaining fixed on Hercules as he cautiously steps further into the room. There's an undeniably tempered tension between them, you can see it the way they both quite stiffen around each other. Did you miss something?

"Anyways, I'll leave you to it," Hercules says, his tone showing a desire to exit as he passes by Leon, shoulders brushing purposely, and heads towards the door.

"What is it, Leon?"

Leon doesn't respond immediately. He looks at you only, until he hears the door of the operating room closing behind him.

"What did he want?" he asks, nodding his head towards the door.

"Nothing specific. Just checking in on how I'm doing and settling in," you dismiss, avoiding eye contact, feeling the awkwardness between you two intensify. "Did you need me something?"

"Chris said we can leave a bit earlier today. We can swing by your place to grab anything you need, and then head to my place," a slight pause hangs in the air. "So...if you're ready to go now, just let me know."

Fuck yeah you want to leave. You don't even want to stay in here a minute longer.

"Yeah uh, I think the sooner we leave, the better, so I can take my time getting my things ready."

Leon nods. "I'll wait for you outside then." You nod tightly, eyes never leaving the floor. Noticing your demeanor he takes a moment, and leans his head a bit lower, making you face him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit tired," you fib, however the lie falling from your lips without much belief.

Leon's eyes narrow in skepticism, but doesn't dwell on it. With a tight nod, he heads towards the exit, and right before he steps out, he steals one last glance at you and then exit the room. As the door clicks shut, you let out a heavy sigh, resting your hands on the chair. This is going to be a long run...and you're not ready for it. 

Getting back on your feet, you walk over to your locker and gather your belongings, the sound of the locker door closing echoing softly in the room. As you make your way towards the exit once more, you find Chris, Piers, and Carlos gathered in the main room.

"You're leaving?" Chris asks, walking towards you and Leon.

"Yeah," taking a nonchalant look at the room's table, a jestful scoff leaves your nostrils. "Guess I won't be making it to my niece's birthday tomorrow, huh?"

Chris shakes his head regretfully. "You'll have to stay away from your family in general. Attempting to see them can get them in trouble too," he explains, trying to be as soft as he can. You nod in understanding as Leon stands idle right by your side. "It will end soon. I promise you that."

"I hope so," you murmur, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.

Taking a step back, Chris' eyes dart between you and Leon, voice takes on a firm tone. "Stay sharp. Both of you. I'll expect you back on Friday."

Without saying anything else, you begin to approach the exit with Leon, leaving the present members behind. And ready to spend the following days closed up into Leon's apartment...

----

10:05 P.M.

Leaving urgently the B.S.A.A.'s building, he retrieves his phone from his pocket, fingers hurriedly searching for her contact. Scanning his surroundings out in the night, he approaches his car as the few beeps echo from the speaker, until someone picks up.

"Ada, it's me," he says, pausing to unlock the driver's door. "We got a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"The team suspects Umbrella's onto them, and they've still got eyes on the nurse. It seems Wesker knows now she's still alive."

A small pause comes from Ada's line, processing the unexpected information. "Let's meet up at the usual spot. It's safer to discuss this in person."

"Okay."

"...Be careful." 

----

10:30 P.M.

With a twist, the door swings open, revealing Leon's elegant apartment- an expensive penthouse. However, as you step inside, your gaze remains fixed on the floor, away from the dazzling luxury. Leon follows behind, closing the door with a soft click, your bag slung over his shoulder.

The entire ride back had passed in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. Your safety- 'life is at risk', something you continue to replay in your head, and still find yourself unable to comprehend.

"Come on, I'll get you settled in," Leon's words grasp your attention as he jerks his head towards one of the closed doors lining the hallway. With a tight nod, you follow his lead, passing by the spacious living room. To your right, you can catch a quick glimpse of the kitchen, its size equally extensive.

Tracing after him into the hallway, you both arrive at one of the three closed doors. With a gentle push, he opens it to reveal a beautifully decorated bedroom.

Stepping inside, you observe the present belongings: Elegant colors, such as black and chocolate brown furniture adorning the extensive place. Sleek surfaces add a modern touch, while a large wall window gives a breathtaking view of the city below. A large, queen-sized bed and a nightstand on the right side, decorated with a framed photograph with Leon's picture stands- back when he was close to your age, or perhaps a bit younger. 

Everything is neatly made, except the bed, where a few similar and dark-shaded clothes are carelessly scattered around...and three unmistakably empty Jack Daniel's bottles glisten right under the bed. 

This is Leon's bedroom.

"Sorry for the mess," he says, setting your bag down on his bed before swiftly gathering the scattered clothes. "Haven't been home since yesterday morning."

"Don't apologize. It's alright," you mutter as you watch him hastily make the bed.

Seconds pass heavily, your arms hug your figure as silently observing Leon's quick work.

"You'll take the bedroom, I'll crash on the couch."

"You really don't have to do that," you pause, watching him move to his closet and toss the clothes inside. "I mean...I don't want to kick you out of your own room. I could sleep on the couch

"My couch is comfortable enough for two nights, don't worry about it," he reassures you, moving to his closet to throw away the clothes.

With a nod, you reluctantly accept, watching as Leon retrieves an extra pillow and blanket for himself. "Are you uhm...you sure your apartment is safe?"

"Moved in here because of my high-risk missions. You're the only one who knows about my place. I promise you're safe."

"Okay, thank you..." you clear your throat, "a-and for offering your place. Even though you weren't obliged to."

Leon just nods back in response, adjusting his holster as he looks around. Exactly 24 hours ago, you were making love as if you were confessing all the suppressed feelings for one another, only to just pretend this never happened. And it hurts. It really hurts.

"You should get some sleep. We had a difficult day ahead of us," he suggests, holding the pillow and folded blanket under his arm. "If you need anything...just call."

What you need is him. Why is it so hard for him to see that?

"Yeah...I will."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight..." you mumble as he walks back towards the exit. Stepping out, he closes the door behind him, giving you the privacy you need. As you gaze at the closed door, you place your hand onto the handle, torn with the desire to follow him, but something holds you back—perhaps your selfishness. 

Sighing, your hand drops to the side and you sink onto the edge of the bed, shedding your jacket. You try to push back the impending tears, but you feel like you've hit rock bottom right now. You're desperate. You're afraid. You're...

A soft sniffle escapes your lips as tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Fuck...since when you became such a crybaby? The final attempt to contain yourself is too fragile, bringing your face in your hands, you allow yourself to shatter once more while trying your best to stay as quiet as you can.

--

Closing the door behind him, Leon's hand remains on the handle for a second, an urge strikes for a fleet moment to get back in the bedroom. But he pulls away, reminding himself that there's no room for personal feelings, especially not after Chris' bombshell revelation—even though they did, right at the worst time. However, leaving her alone is the best thing to do in this situation. Afterall, he, himself, has been in that position before, and still is.

With a heavy exhale through his nose, he directs himself to the living room, tossing the pillow and blanket onto the couch. Peeling off his tee, he changes into more comfortable, before dragging himself towards the kitchen to open the fridge and retrieve a bottle of beer, cracking it open with a cap opener, and return back inside the living room.

Taking the first sip of his beer, he grabs the remote and switches on the TV, not particularly caring about the channel—just wanting something to murmur in the background.

As he settles onto the couch, sinking into its softness, he takes another weary sip from the bottle. His gaze drifts to the closed door, his ears picking up the muffled sounds of footsteps and zipping coming from inside.

Suddenly, a thought crosses his mind...

Reaching for his phone on the coffee table, he navigates to Claire's contact. After dialing her number and hearing a few beeps, her voice comes through the other line,

"Leon? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. I just need a small favor."

"What is it?"

"Can you give me the address of (y/n)'s sister's home? It's something important."

----

"See you on Friday, gentlemen," Luis says as he slides into his jacket.

"Goodnight, Luis," Piers says, watching him, one of the remaining members making his exit.

The doors open, and Luis walks out, leaving the two soldiers alone inside the main room. Chris arranges the papers while Piers tiredly walks over to his chair.

Exhaling, Chris takes the dossier and moves to the shelf. Looking down at it for a moment, he decides to not leave it here, but take it with him. Piers on the other hand, grabs his own denim, sliding on him before he turns to address Chris,

"Captain, if you don't need me anything..."

"Just hold on, Piers," he interrupts, his voice tired yet resolute as he wraps his coat around himself. "I'm heading out as well."

With heavy steps, Chris and Piers make their way out of the bunker, the weight of the day's events settling upon their shoulders. Each footstep brings them closer to the elevator, taking a few hours break from the ongoing chaos.

As the elevator doors slide open, they step inside. For a long moment, they stand still, both of them in thought as the hum of the machinery surrounding them. Piers glances subtly at Chris, his distress is too obvious to not go unnoticed by him.

"You alright?"

At Piers' question, Chris finally snaps, "How can I be alright, when everything goes into shit? Thought from the time we retrieved the suitcase, things would get better. Instead, my team becomes wanted by the whole corporation for reasons I can't really piece together, and they might carry a stronger pieces of the parasite."

"We should've expect this would've happen. The laboratory in Cuba could only be only the tip of the iceberg. And with (y/n) staying at Leon's, at least one burden is lifted. Now as for the rest of the team...It's better for them to know who's after all of us," Piers says, adjusting his jacket. "That way we'll be more prepared."

"I don't know, Piers," Chris admits, faltering. "I'm afraid the worst is coming..."

----

1:01 A.M.

Turning left, turning right. This is what you've been doing for the past two hours- tossing and turning around, unable to find a comfortable position. Sleep for the night only seems unreachable as you replay Chris' words over and over in your mind.

With a weary exhale, you sit up, perching your legs on the edge of the bed. You look at the moon's soft glow filtering through the translucent grey curtains of the bedroom, until they land on the nightstand, right onto Leon's picture once more. Taking it in your hands, you see how different Leon actually looks, compared to now. Cold brown hair, doe eyes, vibrant smile, a face that hasn't witnessed god knows what.

Your thumb reaches, caressing the glass as you examine the detailed features on his face, wishing you've met him under different circumstances.

Or...never.

Putting it back in place, you sit for a few quiet moments, before finally standing up. Padding towards the door, you press your ear against it, and all you can hear is the muffled murmuring of the TV. Leon seems to still be awake.

Opening the door slowly, you peek out before stepping into the hallway, making your way towards the living room. Entering, you instead find Leon in his grey sweats and white tank top, exposing the contours of his beautiful muscles, sprawled and fast asleep on the couch, an empty beer bottle dangling from his hand, its base barely touching the floor.

Quietly approaching him, you take the bottle from his hand very carefully to settle it aside. But once you do, you notice him wearing the holster on, gun sheathed inside, below, on the side of his chest. Unable to find a way to remove it, you grab the neatly folded blanket from the arm of the couch and gently lay it over him, ensuring his comfort. Finally, taking the remote, you switch off the TV and everything falls into stillness.

Kneeling down, you rest your chin in your palm to briefly observe him. Flashbacks of the first time he kissed you a few weeks ago resurface, ending up in this exact same scene, him passed out on your couch. Too drunk to act, but too sober to remember. Where from that night, the ordeal of your relationship began.

Your fingers very delicately glide against his face, before leaning in and giving a soft kiss to his bruised cheek. You want so bad to lie down beside him, but that'll wake him, and surely, it'll be awkward since you decided to go your separate ways. So instead, you get back on your feet and make your way back inside his bedroom.

After giving him one last glance, you close the door, and walk back towards the bed, Leon's scent striking again your nostrils through the sheets. Tucking yourself under the covers, you turn side, facing once more the window.

The following minutes tick in pure silence, the peacefulness and empty mind finally lulling you to sleep. But just as you begin to drift off, you're jolted awake by the sensation of weight pressing against the mattress and a strong arm encircling your waist. The warmth of another body presses behind you, catching you off guard.

For a moment, fear grips you, but it quickly dissipates as you recognize the familiar touch of a scarred palm reaching the back of your hand.

Leon's fingers intertwine with yours, steadying them just below your chest. Feeling his chest against your back, you pull your hand away, and instinctively turn to face him.

His eyes meet yours under the dim light, lingering on your lips. Your hands find and cradle his jaw as you gaze into his eyes, neither of you uttering a word. Here he goes again. Pushing you away, and does this. It feels he's just toying with your feelings. You can't do this anymore.

"I'm tired of this," you admit in a whisper. "What do you want from me?"

Your question of grievance feels like echoing to deaf ears, and despite your attempts to resist, you find yourself unable to deny the pull between you. You don't know how it happens- and your lips find his in a tender kiss...that immediatelly grows passionate.

(!!!)

Leon takes a moment to finally return and deepen it. The soft sounds arousingly resonate, his hand slides down to your wrist, holding it gently against his cheek as he pulls you closer.

He doesn't hesitate, his muscular arms wrap around your waist. With an effortless grunt, he rolls you right atop him, kicking the covers away with his leg. His lips trail along your jawline as he holds you firmly by the back of your neck and the small of your back.

You let out a soft moan as you grind against him, slipping your hand beneath his tank top to feel the warmth of his skin. Leon's hips meet yours, sensually thrusting upwards through the thin fabric of your clothes. He holds you tightly, as if he's trying to keep you all to himself, and you love it so fucking much.

"I need you goddamnit..." he finally responds to your unspoken question, his groan muffled against your skin.

Lips meet again, conveying all the yearning and longing in his grip. A tiny part of you wants to protest, but Leon's touch is drugging you dangerously, making every single ounce of self-control crash completely.

His arms stay wrapped around you, holding you close as he shifts position. With a quick move, he rolls over, almost throwing you back onto the mattress, pulling his tank top off over his head in one fluid motion. He leans back down on top of you, capturing your lips once more...and your body this time immediately responds to his touch, your legs spreading to allow him to sink down onto you.

Your breathing grows, chest heaving as his lips leave a wet trail lower. You want to repeat everything that happened last night. You want to feel everything all over again. Even if it's one last time. You're addicted to this man.

Glancing down, his hands eagerly slip beneath your loose shirt, lifting it up and exposing you to his hungry gaze. His lips find the swell of your breasts, and you can feel his breath growing equally heavier with pure desire. Moving lower, his kisses trace a path down to your bare stomach, while his fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down in sync with his mouth.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch him lustfully removing completely the bottoms, his eyes never tearing with yours as he presses teasing kisses just above the lace trim of your panties, before his fingers inching to their waistband. Pulling away momentarily, you can see the bulge already strained against his sweats.

Ever so slowly your legs close lightly as Leon removes the final piece of clothing from you, leaving your bottoms bare before him, revealing your glistening need for his touch between your thighs. His fingertips trail slowly up the insides of your thighs, delicately parting them wider as he settles in between. Pressing his stomach against the mattress, he peppers tender and teasing kisses along your inner thighs, his thumbs rubbing affectionately against your skin as he inches closer and closer..

Why is he getting lower...is he about- to go down on you?

No. Fucking. Way.

You feel your cheeks heating up, turning into a bright shade of red, your breath hitches as you feel his lips brushing against your area, hot breath ghosting. A tingly sensation that makes you hazy and the need already overriding any ounce of shyness once again. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, his tongue flattens and takes a long, slow lick that has your legs twitch in reaction and fighting not to cage his head.

Gripping your thighs firmly, he dives in, his tongue flicking and swirling unhurriedly against your swollen clit that has you biting your lip, and attempting to drown your moans. However, as the pleasure lingers and grows more intense, your head falls back and eyes close, unable to keep on quiet. Your desperate mewling chimes wholly inside his apartment.

"What the fuck, Leon..." you whimper in a quiet squeal, accompanied with a throaty groan. He responds with a barely audible, yet vibrant groan against you, muscles flexing to hold you open.

Your hips buckle once automatically very lightly, a slight gasp escaping your lips as you feel your your juices smearing on his clean-shaved chin. Peeking down on him, you find his gaze still locked on you, blue shades darkened with pure lust. His hands leave your marked thighs and gently take hold of yours as he continues to eat you out.

Head falls back against the pillows, tongue persistently toying with your clit, alternating between quick, teasing strokes and long luxurious licks.

You become a squirming mess beneath him, feeling completely helpless at how a single and small fucking wet muscle can make you like this.

His thumbs caress the soft skin of your hands while you can't help but tighten your fingers a bit at the overstimulating sensation. With each continued flick, you can feel your whole body growing hot, thighs now trembling uncontrollably as only five minutes in, and your orgasm already approaches. Leon notices it and redoubles his efforts, picking up a faster pace.

"Nnfuck...." you exhale in a shaky cry, unable to last any longer as the pleasure reaches its crescendo. You finally succumb, back arches as you come all over his tongue, fingers tightening harder onto his, and nails almost piercing his skin with the orgasm hitting hard enough for a few seconds.

Leon doesn't stop. Not until you've been riding out your climax completely. His tongue continues to stubbornly work, lapping through your overstimulated pleasure for all its worth. Your breathless cries make him tease you a bit more, until you finally come down from your high, completely oversensitive, leaving you a limp, and panting mess. 

With one last lick, he presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before wiping his chin with his thumb. Slowly, he crawls back up your tired figure, trailing his way back up to your lips as he sinks against you. God fucking damn, you can feel that you're gonna throw your heart up. You can practically taste yourself on his tongue and feel how painfully hard he is left.

Your mark is all over him, mentally and physically.

Lazily, you wrap your arms around his neck, where both lips break apart for a bit, facing each other in the darkness of his bedroom. Then, you start planting soft kisses on his face—tracing over the bruises, the scars, lingering on his jaw as he stays still. Finally, you find your way back to his lips, wanting to give nothing more other than your affection, and Leon responds with a kiss of his own, though it doesn't last long.

Breaking apart, he cups the side of your head, his thumb caressing your swollen bottom lip, and a hazy, huffing chuckle leaves his lips at the aftermath of your climax. He leans down, nuzzling his head against yours. Fuck, touching his desperation, but not acting on it, not without your consent, makes him hotter in your eyes.

And you want to feel him entirely. More than anything.

Your hands drift down, finding the knot on Leon's sweatpants, silently telling him you're just as eager. You start to tug them down slowly, and he joins in, helping to kick them off along with his boxers. Then it's your turn to raise your arms, letting him strip off your shirt, leaving you bare and ready for him.

Guiding his throbbing cock to your entrance with his hand, he gathers the mixture of your wetness and his saliva to the tip to get it slicker.

Leaning down, he gives a gentle kiss to your cheek, before he holds your legs open to reposition himself. Looking back at you, he steadies himself with one hand and without waiting any longer, he starts to push inside inch by inch, feeling him filling you up ever so slowly.

The familiar now sensation strikes you, a sigh of relief and a lustful groan escape you both. Leon eases off for a moment, adjusting the pillow under your head before lowering himself onto his elbows, planting a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. He remains still, allowing you to adjust to him once more. 

"You okay?" he asks quietly, that makes your heart 'ache' with overwhelming awe. At your nod, he finally begins to move, rolling his hips in long, deep strokes. 

His palms cup the back of your head, breath is fanning against your shoulder, rocking in slow rhythm inside you.

"Feels good, hm?" he rasps in question.

"It feels amazing," you whisper back at him.

Your fingers eagerly move to explore his face, prompting his eyes bore into yours, already reliving the same sensations of last night- if not better. This time, there's almost no pain. Only damn pleasure. Leaning his head down, he captures your lips to tender and passionate kiss, as he thrusts in and out of you.

For now, your mind is solely focused on Leon, nothing else. You don't have room to think or worry about anything else. Just feeling loved...all over again.

"Get on top," he suddenly snorts, and pulling out, he lifts you up, settling you on his lap as he gets more comfortable on the mattress. You lean in for a kiss before he lies back, and you start moving on top of him, rising and sinking down on him.

Little gasps, sighs, and pants fill the room, syncing perfectly with your rhythm. Leon's hand grips your hips, his eyes fixed on you with that same loving sparkle. His other hand slides to your thigh while yours finds support on his perked chest. He doesn't stop himself from being vocal too this time. He lets you know that you're pleasing him, by inaudible huffs, and low short-cutted groans.

"God..." you gasp, head falls forward as your fingers curl very slightly against his panting torso.

A low grunt slips past his throat, propping himself up on his elbows, locking eyes once again, before his gaze darts lower, soaking in the sight of his slick length disappearing within you for a brief moment. Then his hand starts exploring again, running sensually through your sides to find and kneat one of your breasts.

Leon lets out a soft hiss, his grip tightening on your skin as he unexpectedly pulls you flash against him. His eyes fixate on your lips, and his hand slides back down to your hips, gently guiding your movements.

"I'm.....falling for you..." he pants out, breath airing against your whimpering lips. "I fucking am.."

His bold confession sends shivers of joy through your spine. But you kinda already knew, didn't you? The way he makes love to you said it all.

"Then keep making love to me," you whisper with a quiver.

Rolling you back down, he traps you right under him, taking control of the pace once more, by going much slower. He gently buries his head onto the crook of your neck, wetting your skin with his kisses and affection. Your arm locks around the back of his head, lids close at the multi-sensation, soft moans escape your lips as both your hands cup the back of his head.

His slow fucking is already making your closed eyes roll, legs still tremble from the overstimulated climax you had moments ago, but feeling close..again. Spreading your legs a bit more, you allow him to thrust further, reaching the hilt.

Suddenly, he slowly reaches and takes your hands, tacking them right above your head. His hands lace with yours as he lifts his head, locking into an eye contact.

Leaning your head up, you capture his lips again and he returns it eagerly, his thrusts gradually picking up pace.

Breaking apart, a string of saliva attaches both lips, swollen flesh grazing against another, sharing the same exact oxygen. The way he keeps on looking at you...

You whimper in response, yearning to wrap your arms around him and pull him closer, but his hands keep yours firmly in place.

Leon's focus shifts to where you're joined, and this time his control starts to slip. His strokes become smoother and a bit harder than intended.

"Fuck...fuck.." he whispers, his voice breathy and broken, teeth gritted as he feells his abs clenching. He's getting close.

Pulling backwards, his hips roll into short and shallow thrusts..only a few more, until he pulls out urgently, he rubs himself against your slick folds, his eyes locked down onto your bodies, and his cock starts to spurt hot and white load of cum, painting your stomach. His fingers grip yours tightly, his hips stuttering as he empties himself with low, guttural groans rumbling from his reddened chest.

Your eyes wander, captivated by the way his facial features scrunch up, his jaw tightens, and his brows furrow in complete ecstasy. Watching his face when he comes is hotter than any view you've ever seen.

Slowing to a halt, his ragged panting fills the room as you soothe his hand, running your thumbs over his knuckles, letting him take his time to collect himself. Gradually his fingers slowly loosen.

Barely a minute later, he looks at you, leaning  down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. Then, he gently unlaces your fingers and reaches for a nearby towel from the headboard of the bed, using it to wipe away his liquids from your stomach.

(*)

Tossing the towel aside, he lies back down on the bed, pulling you slowly against him. Your head finds a comfortable rest against his damp chest as his back reaches to rest on the headboard, his fingers tenderly cradling the side of your head—his silent gesture of protection. For a quiet moment, he focuses on regulating his breathing. Then, his arms snake beneath you, holding onto your form as he closes his eyes. Your own arm encircles his torso, his intense heartbeat a now familiar sound to your ears.

But all too soon, you don't forget to realize-

"We let it happen...again," you murmur quietly.

After this, reality crashes once again and things much more difficult. The thought of leaving him behind now begins to actually concern you. You don't know if you'll be able to leave with the shit that keeps on happening.

Leon remains quiet, processing your confirmation. Quietness swallows you both again, only for a few seconds, before he finally speaks,

"It's only up to you on what you'll do with the university. I meant what I said in the morning. I won't stand in your way...If that's what you want to know," he says, eyes facing the wall ahead. "It's something you might not be able to achieve in the future if you lose it now."

"And what will happen...with us?" you ask, raising your head to meet his eyes. "...I don't want to be away from you, Leon."

"I don't want that either," Leon confesses, his knuckles reaching to brush your cheek. "You...you're the first good thing that happened to me in a long time."

You feel your heart ready to burst out of your chest with his words. Is he implying that he wants you to stay?

Leaning down, Leon captures your lips into one last, languid kiss, skin to skin, flesh meeting flesh, before settling his body back down against yours, silently conveying his need for your comforting touch.

Sinking back down to your embrace, you go back wrapping your arms around his back and the back of his head. Your fingers begin to delicately massage the back of his skull. Leon's breath finally slows and steadies against the column of your neck, as you mentally drift off.

Turning your head towards the nightstand, you catch sight of the novel you were reading earlier, its bookmark placed just nineteen pages from the end. Maybe you're nearing your own ending. You can feel it. Sense it.

From one side it's Leon, having you falling more for him, and from the other side, there's your position in the Royal College.

But it feels like...staying with Leon will be your own happily ever after...

"...I don't...think that..I'll leave—" you begin to hesitantly say, only to get interrupted by a soft snore. Frowning, you glance down to find Leon's eyes closed, peacefully asleep right on top of you. Your thumb traces over his features, from his tousled blonde hair, down to his brow, cheek, and then jaw. Slowly, you tighten your arms around him, wrapping them securely around his muscular back, wanting to freeze time and savor this moment for as long as possible...

Sweet dreams, Leon.

----

The front door opens carefully, and unknown shadows stealthily invade the house. Inside the darkness, Umbrella's neon color radiates through their uniforms, betraying their identity. The team's leader, with a assertive gesture, signals the start of their mission: to locate the nurse.

"Split up. You two search the living room and the kitchen area. We'll check the rest," he commands quietly, met with affirming nods. The leader and the other two members of the team quietly get split up. One heading to the bathroom as the he with his colleague head immediately to the main room he's ordered to be at: The bedroom.

However upon opening the door, they find the bed neatly made and the nurse's belongings scattered about. But no sign of her.

Frowning in confusion, the leader lowers his weapon, his earpiece crackling with updates from his team. "Report, Ness."

"She's not in the kitchen, or the living room,"

Moments later, the team member from the bathroom joins the leader in the bedroom. "Nothing in the bathroom."

With a firm nod, the captain switches channels and come in contact with the head of the corporation. In seconds, Wesker's voice crackles through the earpiece.

"Sir, we've searched the entire premises. No sign of the nurse. It seems she's gone missing." 

--

"Missing...or hiding." Wesker corrects in a whisper, fingers tightening into a fist. "Leave the area before you get detected," he orders before releasing the button on the communicator. Looking back down at the picture where Leon steps out of the B.S.S.A.'s headquarters, his gaze hardens.

"Looks like you're destined to always come back, Ares."

----