autistic Leon Kennedy truther

Every year, whenever he managed to squeeze a few days off, Leon made sure to visit Claire. Despite their hectic schedules, it was easy to justify their visits. However, lately, their schedules seemed to be constantly misaligned. Claire was always occupied—chasing leads, helping people, diving headfirst into problems that had nothing to do with her because someone had to take action.

Leon wasn’t much better.

Most of the time, he had no idea where he’d be next week. He yearned for more time with her—more mornings spent drinking terrible coffee in her kitchen, more evenings listening to her rant about motorcycles or whatever reckless adventure she’d gotten herself into lately.

But wishing didn’t change much. So whenever he could, he visited. Sometimes, Claire wasn’t even home. Those visits usually ended with him stopping by Jill’s apartment. Jill Valentine had agreed to look after Cowboy whenever Claire was away, which meant Leon eventually got to know her too.

At this point, their routine had become almost predictable. Leon would arrive, Cowboy would freak out for about five seconds, and then immediately remember there were more pressing matters demanding his attention.

—

Today Jill had asked him to watch Cowboy for a few hours while she handled something across town. Leon hadn’t seen Claire in over a month, not that he was counting. Cowboy sat beside the apartment door, ears perked up, waiting.

For Jill, maybe.

For Claire, probably.

For anyone else, apparently.

Leon leaned against the wall beside him. “You miss Claire, bud?”

Cowboy glanced at him, then gave him a look.

Leon frowned. “Wow. Okay.”

Nothing. Not even a courtesy tail wag. Then he remembered something. A few months ago, he had been sitting in Claire’s kitchen when he had noticed her talking to Cowboy in a way that initially struck him as absurd. She kept referring to herself as Mama.

At first, Leon thought it was a joke. Then, he noticed Cowboy reacting every time she said it. The dog didn’t know who Claire was. To Cowboy, she wasn’t Claire; she was Mama. The moment someone uttered the word, his ears would perk up, his tail would wag, and he’d immediately become attentive. Leon had laughed so hard that day that he nearly choked on his coffee. 

Afterward, he tested it himself. “Mama’s gonna be home soon.”

Cowboy had practically launched himself across the room.

At the time, it had been amusing however, it was becoming a problem because Cowboy only seemed interested when Claire was called Mama, and there was absolutely no way Leon was ever going to get comfortable saying that out loud—not without feeling completely ridiculous. Cowboy let out a soft whine and shifted closer to the door.

Leon sighed. “Claire’s gonna be home soon.”

Nothing...Cowboy didn’t even acknowledge him.

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is humiliating.”

Cowboy remained thoroughly unimpressed. Another minute passed, Cowboy adjusted his position but never took his eyes off the door.

Waiting.

Leon stared at him.

Cowboy stared at the door.

The standoff continued.

Finally, Leon caved. “Mama’s gonna be home soon.”

Cowboy’s head snapped around so quickly that Leon was genuinely concerned for his neck. His tail immediately started wagging against the floor.

Leon groaned and let his forehead fall against the wall. “Yeah, okay. That’s embarrassing.”

Cowboy barked happily.

Leon lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the dog. For a second, he swore Cowboy looked smug. And somehow, that felt exactly like something Claire’s dog would do, exactly like his mama.

—

“What do you want?” Leon asked, making sure Ollie stayed close by. At eighteen months your son wasn’t as much of a menace as his older sister, but he did have a tendency to run off whenever you turned your back to him for more than three seconds.

“Iced coffee,” you said. “Thank you, babe.”

Leon bent down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Come on, Ollie, let’s get Mama her coffee.” He stretched out his hand for Ollie to take. Ollie nodded. 

“Coff,” he babbled and you smiled. 

“He really is your son,” Leon chuckled and you watched him walk off, Ollie stopping every few steps to point at some kind of plant he saw and absolutely had make sure his dad noticed too.

You relaxed into your lounge chair, soaking up the sun. Lottie, your oldest, was playing in the water. You checked on her to make sure she was okay, but she was completely lost in her make-believe mermaid world. Aside from ballet, water really was her element. She was a fantastic swimmer, especially for her age.

You let out a content breath. Family time like this was sacred.

You were getting a suspicious amount of it recently which made you think that Leon had been playing the family card a lot more often. They seemed to be going easy on him, too. Probably because he had been called into active duty right before you had gone into labour with Ollie, resulting in Leon missing the birth of his son. And your fiancé was not happy about that, no doubt making that clear any chance he got.

You heard your daughter splutter and snort as she came up, paddling toward you. She wiped her hair out of her face, sporting mirrored swimming goggles. 

“Mom,” she said, out of breath. 

“What is it, honey?” 

“Do you want to play mermaids?” 

You smiled. “Hell, yeah I wanna play mermaids,” you said, already pushing out of your lounge chair and lowered yourself into the pool. 

Lottie beamed up at you, hair clinging to her face. “Okay, so I have a tail that glows in the dark. I use it to explore hidden caves sometimes. And I’m the illegitimate child of the mermaid king. So I’m a princess, but I don’t know that yet.” 

You nodded. “Okay, my tail is covered in sparkles and I live in one of the caves, because I’m the real queen of the mermaid kingdom. The current king is nothing but a usurper to my throne.” 

Lottie clapped her hands together. “And you have magic powers and together we will overthrow the king! Yes, mom, let’s go!” She took a deep breath and dipped below the surface. 

You chuckled, looking for Leon and Ollie one last time, finding them not even halfway to the coffee cart yet.

You bit your lip. Leon looked so hot today. His wet hair was messily slicked back and his handsome face was on show, prominent cheekbones and all. You were at the pool, so he was shirtless of course: muscles rippling under smooth skin, abs for days, and Jesus Christ, his arms.

Your fiancé was the sexiest man alive.

You were absolutely climbing him like a tree as soon as Lottie and Ollie were put to bed later tonight. They would be out cold too, after getting all their energy out at the pool all day. With both your kids deep in slumber, you would absolutely rock Leon’s world. You couldn't wait.

Ollie chased after a butterfly and stumbled, falling right into a group of young women drinking spritzes, landing on his butt. He looked up at his surroundings, disoriented. 

Leon ran after him, apologising profusely to the women, but it seemed like none of them minded. In fact, they also seemed to think your fiancé was the sexiest man alive. And with a cute son like that in tow? That he was actively taking care of? You could hear the ovaries exploding from here. 

One of the women leaned in a little closer as they spoke, puffing out her chest. Leon smiled politely, saying something you couldn’t understand and crouched down next to Ollie, waiting for him to push himself back up.

Your son intently watched all the people staring at him, whipped around, almost falling over again if Leon hadn't stabilised him and pointed at you in the pool.

“Mama,” he exclaimed and a smile spread across your entire face. You waved at him. He beamed at you and waved back, Leon pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, looking at you with so much love, you thought your heart might explode.

Good to know Leon and you both had the same plans for later tonight.

The whole group of women looked a little disappointed and you sank into the water. You had a usurper to overthrow with your oldest after all.

After the legitimate ruler of the mermaids was back on the throne, you patiently waited for your coffee to be delivered by your two favourite boys.

Ollie threw a bit of a fit, insisting on being the one who carried your iced coffee to you. Leon managed to convince him that the adult should carry it for most of the way, and let Ollie carry it for the last few yards. 

“Both hands,” Leon instructed, making sure the plastic cup was secure in your toddler’s hands. Ollie nodded. 

“I do it,” he said. 

Leon made sure the plastic lid was put on properly too. “Go for it. Mommy’s over there.” 

A small wrinkle formed between Ollie’s brows as he tried to balance the beverage and his own steps, having a hard time coordinating. You sat on the edge of the lounge chair, arms open.

“Good job, baby,” you cooed. 

Ollie smiled at you, getting a little too excited and tilted the cup. While the lid was secure, it wasn’t waterproof, so a little bit of coffee spilled out. Ollie froze, looking at his hands covered in the dark liquid, then at the minuscule coffee puddle on the ground. 

“It’s okay, Ollie,” Leon encouraged him. “No big deal. Mommy is right there, look.” 

Ollie’s chin quivered and he looked between you and his father, horror in his eyes. 

“Keep going, baby. You’re doing so well,” you said, offering him a smile. 

Ollie took another tentative step, then let out a small whimper and threw the entire cup on the floor, running back to Leon, wrapping his arms around his knee, hiding his face in his thigh. 

Leon chuckled, his arms coming down to pat his son’s head. “Oh, buddy. Did you panic?” 

Ollie nodded, his face crumpling. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, chuckling at all this cuteness, while you threw a towel on the mess on the tile floor, mopping up at least the majority of the coffee. 

“It’s okay, we can try again.” Leon reached down to pick him up, but Ollie was clamped around his leg, not letting go. “Come on, Ollie.” Leon pried him from his knee, your son thrashing in his grasp, crying for his mama. 

“Come here, baby,” you murmured, hoisting him up on your hip.

Ollie hiccupped, burying his head in your neck and you pressed a kiss to his soft curls.

If Lottie was fixated on Leon, Ollie was fixated on you. Big time. You weren’t sure why. Sometimes you thought it maybe had something to do with you being the only parent around for the first two weeks of his life, while Leon was under medical surveillance following his latest mission at the time.

So you didn't blame your son for being a little clingy.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Leon said, running a hand over the back of his son’s head and you nodded. 

“Thank you, babe,” you murmured, carrying your son over to your lounge chair, sinking down on it, gently cradling him to your chest. 

Ollie pulled at your bikini top and you sat up a little straighter, slipped it off on one side and latched him on. 

You were about to get a lot of dirty looks, you were sure. Not only for breastfeeding in public, but also because to most people, Ollie was a little too old to be breastfed in the first place. Everybody and their mother had an opinion on it. And all of them thought your existence was an open invitation to share that opinion.

If this were your first baby and you were still twenty-one, this would make you question yourself. But with Ollie being your second, you felt a lot more secure in your decisions and firmly settled into motherhood. You were going to do whatever was best and felt right for you and your baby.

Lottie had weaned off on her own pretty early. Ollie had a harder time with it. He needed his momma a lot more still. Being close to you and being breastfed also helped him regulate his emotions, like now. You had no problem with it. He’d wean off when he was ready, there was no rush.  

Being a mom of two also came with a lot more confidence and trust in the process.

Besides, he was only eighteen months. It wasn’t like you were nursing a thirteen year old. This was still very normal. 

Deep down, you really enjoyed spending this extra one-on-one time with him. Some day, he would flinch when you so much as hugged him, so you cherished moments like these while he still wanted to share them with you.

You brushed his curls out of his face, watching him as he calmed down. 

Someone cleared their throat right next to you. “Excuse me.” 

Your head shot up to the middle aged woman standing by your lounge chair.

You offered her a smile. “Oh, hi.” 

She stepped a little closer. “Honey, would you mind covering up?” 

You sighed. “Why?”

“This is a little inappropriate, don’t you think? There’s kids around.” 

You shrugged. “So, everybody can walk around with little to no clothing covering their chest because we’re at the pool, but me breastfeeding my child is a problem?” 

She shifted her weight, pushing her arms into her hips, clearly a little uncomfortable with you not apologising for doing what boobs were supposed to do since the beginning of time. 

“It’s not a problem per se, but could you not go to the bathroom to nurse him?” 

You blinked up at her, lifting a hand to block out the sun. “Do you go to the bathroom to eat?” 

She pressed her lips together. “People are staring.” 

“I have no problem with that. Why do you have a problem with that on my behalf?” 

She leaned in closer. “Because he’s too old for this. If he were a newborn, okay. But he’s what? Almost two?” 

“Eighteen months,” you replied. “A perfectly normal age to be breastfed still, according to pediatricians and international health organisations.” You turned away, for you, this conversation was over. But not for her. 

“You know, most mothers use a nursing cover.” 

You turned back to her. “I’m sorry but this is really none of your business. And a nursing cover? Even if I did care about being ‘decent’, it’s 95 degrees out. I’m not covering myself or my son with unnecessary fabric.” 

“Listen here you—” 

Lottie emerged from the water with full force, splashing a few droplets on the woman standing in front of you. She yelped, scandalised. 

Lottie didn’t care. She slipped off her swimming goggles, running over to you for a water break. 

“Who are you?” she asked, between sips, looking at the woman, whose eyebrows shot up at your daughter asking her a question. 

Normally you would tell Lottie it was a little rude to ask like that, but in this case, you couldn’t care less. 

“So you’re okay with your other children seeing you like this too?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god,” you murmured. “They are my children, they literally came out of me, what is your problem? This isn’t the 1950s. Please leave.” 

As if you had planned it like that, Lottie cuddled up to your and Ollie’s side, also not caring one bit about you only wearing half of your bikini top. 

There was no way of having all that much privacy with young kids around anyway. You counted yourself lucky if you were allowed a bathroom break by yourself without either one of your children following you.

You also hadn't grown up any other way. So being ashamed of nudity in front of the people you literally carried inside of you for nine months and birthed was a concept you had never been able to get behind. 

An iced coffee appeared on the table beside your lounge chair.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, looking over your shoulder at Leon. 

“I got you fries, too,” he said, placing them on the table as well, already extending his arms to pick up Ollie. “Let me take him so you can eat.”

Your son had fallen asleep and you let Leon take him from your arms, slipping your bikini top back on. 

“Are you the father?” The woman asked, still watching you. 

“You know what, we’re actually not sure. But I was the only one who stuck around,” Leon said, holding Ollie to his chest, shrugging.

The woman didn’t know what to say. You smiled at her. “He has his nipples out too. Do you not want to tell him how inappropriate that is?” 

The lady huffed, stalking off, shaking her head, positively fuming. 

“Did you hear that?” you asked, taking a sip from your iced coffee, your other hand caressing your daughter’s head, her cool, wet body a welcome refreshment in this heat. Especially after having a toddler cuddled up to you like your own personal furnace. 

Leon nodded. “I did.” 

You blew out a heavy breath, shaking your head. “Everybody says they love mothers, but in reality they absolutely despise us.” 

Your fiancé sighed, pointing his chin over to the group of women from before, who were ogling him with Ollie again, whispering amongst themselves. “And they love fathers.” 

You smirked. “Thanks for being the one who stuck around.” 

He chuckled, carefully placing Ollie down on the other lounge chair, pushing him further into the shade, wetting a baby sun hat and draping it over his son’s head. 

Lottie’s head shot up. “Dad, do you want to play mermaids? You can be the king that has been usurping mom’s throne. She’s the rightful queen. And obviously I want her to rule the kingdom because she’s kind and just, but I am your illegitimate daughter, so I’m conflicted,” she caught her dad up on what had previously happened on the Real Mermaids of Poolside City. “My tail glows in the dark.” 

Leon whipped around. “Hell yeah, I wanna play mermaids. Where are the swimming goggles?” 

Lottie jumped up from the lounge chair, diving head first back into the pool, flowing through the water as elegantly as a dolphin. 

You grabbed a couple of fries, watching Leon get into the pool after her, squinting at the sun.

It was really strange to know that the same man who would play mermaids with your daughter, was also able to kill someone with his bare hands. It was like there were two different Leons and somehow the one coming back home to you was always the softer one.

-----