Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leon snarled, fighting against the leather straps holding him down to the metal chair in the center of the room. He was being held in the DSO's own interrogation room, and the irony made him furious.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He snapped, twisting his full body in order to maximize his escape attempts.

"I'm taking you out of the game." Simmons hissed. "Theoretically, I could swamp you in infected and let them tear your pretty limbs off, but I need them to find your body. I need them to confirm your death."

"What?"

Simmons smiled, an eerie look of joy in his eye. "I cloned you, the same way I cloned Ada Wong. Your mannerisms, your body, every detail of your DNA. I've set the board, Agent Kennedy, and it's stacked against you."

"Fuck you! It won't work." Leon bared his teeth, already imagining the pain his apparent death would cause. Helena, Sherry, the Redfields… and you. You, who had been so sweet to him during the prep for Tall Oaks. He'd been hung over and disgruntled, only waking up fully when you pushed coffee into his hands and greeted him with a quiet "Morning!". He'd stuck to you like glue, letting you steer him through the security rehearsal. He was a terrible flirt, and even though he did everything but throw himself in your lap, you barely batted an eye. Despite the seeming indifference, he'd ended up with your phone number after you slipped a note into his coat pocket. Call me ;) followed by your name and number. He'd smiled to himself the whole way home.

When he'd finally gathered up enough courage to text you, you opened up to him, returning his jokes and endearments. It was going well, and he was eager to ask you on a date. You'd told him that he was special, and you hadn't meant it in the way that the government did. They meant useful when they said it, but you meant charming. He knew that because you'd told him, elaborating when he asked for details. It was difficult for him to take a compliment, but he found it hard to believe that you'd lie. That made you special to him, too, and that was why he couldn't let you grieve him- not while he still had air in his lungs.

"In fact," Simmons startled him back into reality. "I have a surprise. Something I concocted just for you."

The tone of that statement scared Leon. He went still, glaring from behind the curtain of his bangs. He was confused when the one way mirror in front of him began to show the surveillance feed of the warehouse in Lan Shiang where he had first confronted Simmons. His perfect clone was lying on the floor, dressed in his vest and blue dress shirt. There was blood staining his face, as well as a pool of it beneath his head. He'd been shot in the temple, probably at point blank range. The caliber had been small, leaving him mostly intact. It was unnerving.

Leon glanced between Simmons and the screen, flexing his jaw. He wasn't sure what they were waiting for. The timestamp in the corner indicated that the feed was live, which left him even more uneasy. There were strings being pulled far above his head, and he was struggling to keep up. For several minutes, they watched in silence. Simmons looked overwhelmingly proud of himself, occasionally glancing at his phone. Something changed in his posture, just for a moment, and it almost looked like he'd given up. That was a fleeting wish.

"Here they are." He said.

Leon turned his head to the screen, his blood running cold when he saw you enter the warehouse. You were dressed in a protective vest and helmet, but he could still pick you out of a crowd if he needed to. The camera panned slightly, showing your face to confirm it was you. You looked worried, your brow pinched and your shoulders hunched. Leon knew it was only about to get worse.

"Simmons." He hissed out in warning. "If you don't stop this right fucking now-"

"Fuck."

Your voice dragged him back to the tape. It had audio. Of course it had audio. He stared in horror as you ran to his corpse's side before dropping to your knees and feeling for his pulse.

"Leon? Hey, come on!" You begged. "Leon!"

"Simmons." He said, the sound pitching up as panic began to blossom in the empty space between his lungs.

"No, come on. Come on, hey." You sounded close to tears, and you pulled Leon's lifeless body into your arms, holding his limp head and shoulders off of the concrete. He was so still, even through the surveillance feed. "Leon?" You whimpered.

"No!" He yelled, jerking forward against his bonds. Leon fought them viciously, his distress increasing by the second. He needed to get to you, needed to prove that he was okay, needed to do something to stop the tremor running through you.

You laid him back down with overwhelming gentleness, reaching up to smooth down his bloodstained bangs. Your hand lingered on his cheek, brushing away a patch of dirt.

Leon held his breath, pain exploding in his chest as he watched you lean over and kiss his lifeless lips, as if lulling him to sleep. His whole body felt like it was on fire, burning with adrenaline and a lovesick ache that begged him to drop everything and get to your side. He struggled even harder, chafing his wrists in desperation.

"This isn't funny!" He barked, feeling more and more helpless as you laid your head on his corpse's chest and began to cry. Leon tore his eyes away, fixing Simmons with his most vicious glare. It only lasted until you started talking again, pulling his attention back to the feed.

"I'm sorry." You told him, your breath hitching from your tears. "I would have loved you, you know?"

You were cuddled up to him, muffling your cries by hiding your face in the fabric of his shirt. He was still and cold beneath you, unmoving as you mourned him. More agents would be coming soon, but you needed some time alone with him. You needed time to tell him everything that had been caught on the tip of your tongue during the rehearsal.

"I know I ignored your flirting, but I swear, it was my favorite part of the night." You told him, smoothing your hand over his chest. "I wanted to drag you off somewhere private, but we both have so much on our plates. I thought it could wait, I thought I'd have time to properly fall in love with you."

Leon watched from behind the screen, fighting back tears of his own. He yanked on his bondage once more. Besides the pain in his chest and the terrible guilt bubbling up from his stomach, he was wracked with anger at the idea that Simmons was privy to your words, to the whispers meant only for him. He felt tears of frustration spill over his cheeks, and his hands shook where they were tied to the chair beneath him.

"I'm sorry, Leon." You apologized again, and your voice broke from the strain. A quiet whimper escaped you, and you broke down fully with a gut-wrenching sob. Your fingers curled in his clothing, as if you could warm him back to life if you held him tight enough.

"You see?" Simmons asked. "Life is a game of chess, Agent Kennedy, and you are but a pawn. I can and will dispose of you if I see fit."

He pulled out a knife, stolen from Leon's belt, before coming in close and waving it dangerously through the air. For several tense moments, he seemed to savor the tension and despair he'd created, waiting for the right moment to finally complete his move. It came in a rush of static from the speakers, followed by your voice.

"I won't forget you, I promise."

Leon felt something inside of him buckle, and with a vicious snarl, he kicked Simmons in the shin. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter and he gave one last, rage-fueled tug on the leather strap binding his wrist, nearly reeling when it finally, finally broke.

Chapter Text

The fight was brutal, the odds skewed so heavily that it was only a matter of time until he got hurt. Leon had a busted lip, the beginnings of a black eye, blood pouring from his nose, and a long slice across his chest, but he was alive. He sat overtop of Simmons, clutching the knife and using his bodyweight to keep it pinned through the man's chest. He'd won, but only barely. The desire to maim had been Simmons' downfall. He was so jealous, so violently obsessive and desperate to ruin Leon in any way he could. He'd gotten sloppy in his rage, screeching about how your love was doomed to fail, about how ludicrous it was that someone might love an agent so thoroughly entrenched in despair and trauma.

It wasn't ridiculous to you.

You had accompanied his corpse home, reluctant to leave him even after he was wrapped in a body bag and hefted onto a gurney. It felt wrong to abandon him, especially when you were the only one present who didn't treat him like cargo. You couldn't let that be his fate.

It was a long plane ride, and along the way you were bombarded with priority bulletins about the C Virus and the way it could be used to recreate human tissues, but the message didn't click until you stepped into the hangar and saw him. He was waiting for you, dressed in bloody, torn clothes that matched the attire of his corpse a little too well.

"Leon!" You ran to him, trapping him in a hug so tight it felt like you were consuming each other. He whispered your name over and over, petting your hair and kissing your forehead. There were stitches and butterfly bandages littering his skin, and you tried to avoid them as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him with all of your might. He was quick to reciprocate, sliding his hand over the nape of your neck and leaning into you so he could deepen your embrace.

"It was Simmons." He gasped out when he got the chance. "The C Virus."

It was only half an explanation, but he was much more interested in sealing his mouth over yours than he was in wasting his breath on extra words. You ran your fingers through his hair, only pulling back when you realized that you might have gotten carried away.

"He made me watch." Leon didn't let you go far, his free hand cinching around your waist. "I saw you find it. Find me. I heard all the things you said, I-" he stopped, biting down on his lower lip in order to keep it from trembling. You wiped away the tears on his cheeks, feeling some of your own start to prickle at the corners of your eyes.

"It's okay." You shushed him, pressing your foreheads together. "We've got time now, right? Time to make it better."

"Yeah." Leon agreed. He kissed you again, more gentle this time. "We won't waste it. Not after this."

You agreed, more than happy to indulge him in another few selfish pecks and cuddles. In a moment of clarity, you leaned back and managed to direct him to someplace more private. He was even more passionate behind closed doors, hefting you up onto the nearest surface and moaning in delight as you nibbled on his lower lip. Leon guided your hands up to his shoulders, whimpering softly as you rubbed at sore muscle and touch-starved skin.

"The virus can only mimic genetics." He whispered, unbuttoning his shirt. You were quick to push it off of him, baring his skin to the room. Leon let you touch freely for a moment before helping you find the raised spot that marred his upper chest.

"Here." He whispered. "It can't copy this. It's the scar from when I was shot in Raccoon City."

You tilted your head, kissing the deadened skin with the utmost care. Leon shivered beneath you, craning his neck at a vulnerable angle and allowing you free reign of his body. You wouldn't spoil that quite yet, choosing instead to drag him back into more open-mouthed kisses and desperate groping. You'd give him plenty of marks to remember you by, but you wanted to taste him first.

"Take me home." You whispered. "I think we need some privacy."

"I think you're right." He curled his fingers in the fabric of your clothes, unable or unwilling to leave your embrace just yet. You kissed him again for good measure, becoming ever so greedy when it came to the feeling of his lips parting for your tongue. Despite your demanding affections, you were quick to help him back into his shirt, doing up the buttons and sliding your fingers over his body with adoring, lecherous intent.

"I didn't expect it to hurt so much." You told him. "But when I saw you- it- on the ground, all alone-"

"I know." He kissed you again, soothing the shake in your voice. "He made me watch. I thought I was going to break when I heard you cry. I knew I had to find a way to get back to you."

"And you did." You nudged the tip of your nose against his, revelling in the affection. "I won't let time get the best of us again, Leon."

"Neither will I." He smiled, a mischievous twinkle shining in his eyes. "But first, I need someone to give me a sponge bath."

If he wasn't so bruised and battered, you would have smacked him, but you settled for laughter instead. He was warm and oh so alive in your arms, and that was one of the greatest gifts you'd ever been given. You wouldn't let it slip away, not when you'd had a taste of his absence.

"Then take me home, honey." You teased. "I'll play nurse all night long."