The palace was unusually quiet that morning. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. No, it one felt… tense. Like the air itself was holding its breath.

Zuko noticed it immediately. Years of war sharpened his instincts, and even now, as the Fire Lord, he couldn’t ignore that subtle shift on the atmosphere. The servants avoided eye contact. The guards stood a little straighter. And you hadn’t come to breakfast. That alone was enough to make his chest tighten. He set down his untouched tea with a quiet clink, standing abruptly. “Where is the Fire Lady?” he asked, his voice already carrying that edge people feared.

A servant bowed quickly. “My lord… she is resting.”

Resting.

Zuko frowned. You never skipped meals unless something was wrong. Without a word, he turned and made his way through the palace halls, his robes swaying behind him like of flames.

Your chambers were dim when he entered. The curtains were drawn, soft light filtering through, and there you were- sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded tightly in your lap.

Waiting.

That made his stomach drop. “Hey…” His voice softened instantly, all that authority melting away the second he saw you. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” You looked up at him, and for a second, you didn’t speak. And yeah- he started panicking. Zuko crossed the room in three quick strides, kneeling in front of you. “Talk to me. Did something happen? Do you need a healer? I can call-”

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Not even dramatic silence, just… blank. Like his brain completely short-circuited. “…What?” Your lips twitched, you were nervous. “I’m pregnant, Zuko.” And suddenly, everything hit him at once. The quiet palace. The tension. Your expression. The way your hands were trembling. “You’re-” He let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, except it wasn’t. “You’re serious?” You nodded. For a split second, fear flashed across his face. Not doubt- never that. Fear in himself.

“I-” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once like he did when he was overwhelmed. “I don’t- I don’t know how to- I mean-” Yeah. Fire Lord of the most powerful nation in the world during the hundred year war. Completely losing his shit. You stood slowly. “Zuko, it’s okay if you’re not-”

“I am.” He cut in immediately, a little too fast. Then softer. “I am.” He stepped closer again, slower now, like you might disappear if he moved too fast. “Spirits… we’re having a child.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. That’s when it changed. The panic didn’t vanish, it just shifted. Melted into something warmer. He reached for your hands, holding them carefully, like they were sacred. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes scanning your face.

“Are you feeling alright? Did the healers say everything’s fine? Are you eating enough?” You laughed softly. “Zuko.” He froze. “I’m okay.” He exhaled, shoulders dropping just a bit. “…Okay.” There was a pause. Then, hesitantly, almost shy his gaze lowered to your stomach. “You’re really…?” You guided his hand there. The moment his palm rested against you, he went completely still. Like even breathing too hard might ruin it. "Hello” he murmured under his breath, voice barely above a whisper. You blinked. “Did you just?”

“I don’t know what to say!” he shot back, immediately flustered, ears turning red. “What if they can hear me already?!”You laughed again, softer this time, and gods he swore he’d never heard a better sound. His thumb brushed gently over your hand. “…I won’t be like him.” The words came out quiet and firm. You knew exactly who he meant. He swallowed, jaw tightening slightly before he looked back at you, his golden eyes steady. “I don’t care if they’re loud, or stubborn, or reckless…” A faint, emotional smile tugged at his lips. “They can take after you. That’d be better.”

“Hey...” “I mean it,” he said, stepping closer until his forehead rested against yours. “They’ll grow up safe. Loved. Free to choose who they want to be.” His voice softened even more. “ And I’ll make sure of it.” Your fingers curled into his robes, pulling him just a little closer. “You already are.” For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then

“…We’re going to need to baby-proof the palace.” You blinked. “What?” “There are sharp things everywhere!” He suddenly pulled back, looking mildly horrified. “Weapons. Decorative weapons. Why do we even have that many weapons?!” “Zuko...” “And what if they start firebending early?! What if they burn something down?! What if- ” You grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks slightly. He stopped mid-ramble. “…We’ll figure it out,” you said, smiling. He stared at you for a second. Then, slowly, he smiled back. “…Yeah.” His hand returned to yours, resting over your stomach again this time more naturally, like he already belonged there. “Hey,” he murmured softly. A pause. “…I’m your dad.”

Fire Lord Zuko?

Nurses and Doctors standing with their backs facing you, like they were not concerned because you had some kind of medication in your system even though you were not supposed to have any. Doctor Gideon after all had said it would make you lose weight and mental perceptions while you were already struggling with both since a few months. Really since before your boyfriend had broken up with you and left you alone in your department wanting to have a conversation with him about the future and how it would end if you did not get any help for your mind. Leon Kennedy had made the decision easy for you, though you loved him and the heartbreak had been hard to you and yet you had been glad that he had not seen you break and would never know how bad it had gotten for you before you could even ask him if he liked you enough to see you as someone he could spent his life with and introduce to Sherry (a girl he had spoken highly off like you was his own) but that had been for naught.

Yet that did not ease your mind truly, your eyes focused on the gowns of the practitioner even as you felt the cold seep into your flesh and blood, therefore slowly reaching your bones which already felt as heavy as your eyelids. There was no sound around you, at least nothing comprehensible to you even as your arm trembled with the strength of you trying to reach for someone to attend to your well being. No sound until there was a scream.

A scream which now carried through the room like it had always belonged there. A scream too shrill for your ears and you could not simply push your hands over them to block the sound, not let your fingers tug at the ears or stuff them because you were far too weak. The screaming continued but at least it seemed like a saving grace as the nurse whom had been giving your medicine for the last few months turned to face you; as if she had just remembered that you laid on this table and had the probability to wake from your slumber. Your hand hanging from the table and held up with all the strength the body belonging to your mind was capable of using.

“She’s awake.” It did not sound like a voice to you, more of a whisper the room you were stuck in thought of a saving grace. Words not meant for you and yet about you; sound which should not have been able to reach inside of your body and pull at your mind when your eyelids were fluttering, barely staying open because it felt like you had lost all your strength in the matter of second or minutes you laid awake. The voice quiet and non-comforting while the screaming of something behind the wall of nurses and Doctor Victor Gideon stood strong, nothing to break them even if a hurricane were to pass through the Rhodes Hill area. Yet the screaming still had not ceased.

“Stop,” you whispered. Blistered, cracked and bloodied lips trying to push the words out with all the force that you could muster. No one stirred at your tone, eyes only on you when they decided to glance of their shoulders while you were getting tired and the noise around you did not help the headache burying it’s way into your skull as if it wanted to part her bone, vessels, muscles and her skin to escape through your forehead. “Stop,” you cried out again, not met with answer even as your fingers stretched with an ache in them, curling to be freed of the pain as your eyes closed without your command. Air barely moving through your lips or nostrils as your head shifted so that you could barely make out the figures when shifting your eyes to the side. One last try, one last chance to be heard and then you would let yourself slip into the sleep calling you, though it felt far too cold to be simple sleep and not death awaiting for you when your eyelids slip shut. Just one more try and then you could finally stop trying to fight as you done in the last few months. “Stop!”

The noise stopped, not the screaming of something small and unstable but the words of the nurses and the clinking of metal of the tools the medical team held against the counters or metal tablets. Silence except for the continuing screaming or crying of something unknown and yet not fully human because a conscious human would know not to cry in this setting when not needed. Eyelids closing soon after as you let the weight of your body just lay there, cold from the air of the room with no warmth kept in your blood which was seemingly slowing through your veins while your heart was still deciding if it wanted to continue your existence of living or take you into the realm of sleep and endless peace.

“How are we feeling?” The deep voice, seemingly packed with gravel stones between the throat and the tongue of the man, asked. Asking like you had not tried to catch their attention multiple times as you felt the Reaper slowly trailing towards you like he was an old friend or even a lover you had been missing for years since you guys had broken up — or more like since he had broken it off and decided that your words had no weight in the conversation even when trying to fight for your heart like you never had done before. The love that you had for Leon Scott Kennedy had been — no, was — more than you had ever felt in your entire life so even when he left; you let him walk away because sometimes loving someone meant letting them go.

“Could be better,” you rasped. Your tongue and throat feeling too dry to let the words pass effortlessly, which left them to scratch at the red muscles and organs as if they had not been made for the simple task of speaking. Words beating you the same way the bright white light of the ceilings were, you were laying in an unknown room with screaming penetrating your every thought before they could even be brought into existence and your body telling you that everything hurt when you did not know why it should. You did not even know why you were set on a metal table like a corpse awaiting a mortuary to attend to it or why your body felt far too heavy to have just lost a bit of blood.

“You will be well.” Those were words Doctor Gideon spoke as he seemed to lean over you, your eyelids fluttering when his breath fanned over them just to meet the goggles he used whenever you had seen him before, as if they were protecting him from truly seeing someone beyond a figure that needed help and more of a person. Often you were not even sure if he saw you as someone that needed help but more as something broken that needed fixing or just to be held together by tapes which would rip, be reapplied and teared once more; over and over.

“What happened?” You whispered, your mind still trying to figure out why you were laying in a room you did not know with so many people around you that you had never seen before. It felt like you were an experiment or test subject they had seen for the first time instead of someone that had needed help for the last years. Eyelids fluttering until they simply closed as Doctor Gideon pulled away from watching you and instead simply decided to stand next to you while footsteps surrounded the table (at least you suspected it from the closeness of their footsteps).

“Some complications in the surgery.” The words made no sense, you had not been scheduled for any surgery especially because you had no need for it. Your body was physically healthy as far as the last check up was to be believed, the check-up that had been in the morning before you had decided to take a nap after it had been recommended to you by the Psychologist you had seen after the nurse had checked your vitals to her satisfaction and most likely reported it to the Doctor now leaning over you like this was something that had been planned.

“What surgery?” Your words came out in simple gasps, like air wanting to enter and leave your lungs but fighting against your tongue and lips. Eyelids fluttering, though not to open or even more their position of closed but because you felt a hand on your arm, a hand far too cold so that you would not flinch at it in some way. Your words were also soft, no weight in them because of how light your head felt and you not even addressing it. These questions where important to you; if they were not it would seem you had fallen into your mania and had forgotten most of your life the last few months to forget you needed a surgery or simply imagined that you were well. You were scared.

“A minor one.”

“Really?” You were ignoring the screaming growing louder while his big rough and cold hand was wrapped around your wrist. Eyes clamping shut in pain as the screaming got closer, like it was made simply to disturb your little space of peace. Victor Gideon did not say another word, his fingers tapping your wrist for a second before his thumping steps moved away and left you with nurses all around you. Bright lights still shining above you because it shined through your eyelids in the typical red tone of the blood vessels being illuminated in the skin. No answer to your question except the hushes whispers and the wailing around you.

A pressure was put down on your chest and the light seemingly being dimmed which left you to stretch your face away so you could escape the weight now laying on your chest until something was also set on your other side. Your arms being moved to be set upon two small things feeling too big to be anything like what she had expected of bags. Yet the screaming had stopped the second they had been pressing down on your chest with weight, you did not want to open your eyes and still something underneath your skin called you to do so, her eyelids prickling like their was a fly crawling upon them and yet it vanished the second they were staring back at the ceiling and light — though now dimmed instead of burning into your cornea and therefore your oculus.

Pupils adjusting to the room light, moving slowly to look at the nurses standing around you. Eyes focused on your face and your chest as if they had not seen one in a long time, or ever — yet most of them carried their own breasts. Your eyes stayed on them for seconds, taking in their expressions (softer than what you knew) and not just the movement of their eyes. Feeling like something was happening that you had no idea off, something you should know especially after Doctor Gideon had spoken to you in this white room filled with nothing but the dimmed light (only because it had been turned shallow), no fresh air except from the air conditioner and a ting of iron you swallowed with every passing breath and sniff of the air. You wanted to speak, yet you had no chance to do so.

“The babies stopped crying,” one of the nurses whispered; yet it sounded louder than anything in the silent room. You froze, the words dancing around in your brain, trying to make sense of them. Eyes widening though squinting soon after, it felt like even the minimal light was burning your eyes and therefore you let them rest easy again. Eyebrows furrowed as the words started to connect, eyes moving down your face and body to be met with two white-haired bundles of joy (though you would maybe not consider them such as you were not expecting them). Babies with blonde hair which seemed far too white to be natural, and they were in her arms and splayed on her bare chest.

“What?” The words barely left you before another nurse spoke.

“Congratulations.” Your eyes moved to a young nurse, someone that you had never seen before, with her wide smile and soft eyes which creased at the sight of the situation because of the cheeks raising with her muscles, and of course hands clasped together in front of the dark blue scrubs she wore. She watched like you were a project but you did not care.

You laid there on this cold table and yet felt no cold at all, fingers stroking softly over the still red skin of the babies you had been giving while they nuzzled into your body like they wanted to bury them selves in it. Eyes following every small movement they decided to show, fingers clenching around air and eyelashes fluttering slightly by eyes closed and open and their faces showing themselves to you like they had been waiting for this moment. Eyes which could not yet see staring into your head like they knew you were there. A soft chuckle left you, you might have not expected or wanted them but they were yours and you would love them if it meant they would always look a you like someone they needed.

You were sitting in a white room, a room called your own because you had not left it in far too long. It was your new home, a room were nurses and the doctors came to have their appointments with you while your health seemingly was deteriorating with every breath you took. Nurses stopping by more often than you liked especially when they arrived with a doctor you did not know, a doctor which was not Victor Gideon and knew nothing about you like he did. They were nothing more an annoyance to your daily life in this singular isolated white room which made your skin crawl.

Your eyes were trying to focus on your hands in your lap. The white of your fingers the first you noticed because they had been once more colourful had they not? Squinting at the white reflecting the same white light from the ceilings (which had not been dimmed since the surgery where you had gotten the two babies in your arms), white like a sheet of paper or even the room. Hints of your blood vessels and veins under the corpse like skin, not red or violet but rather blue when you bring the arm to your face to watch it properly.

Skin not filled with pigments of skin but rather empty and barely able to be seen by your eyes; eyes which had started to disappoint you over the years in which your little girls had grown up to be more grown girls under the age of ten and yet older than the year, like their bodies grew slower than what a normal healthy body was supposed to do. They were too small for their ages and yet perfect whenever you got to see them because they were yours and you loved them with everything you’ve got.

Their was a knock on the door, your head turning slowly. You body had started to move slower, as if you muscles had started giving up on every task your brain wanted to give them, they heavy whenever you walked and the complications with your eyes getting worse with every passing day for the last few months had not helped. The medicine the doctors had given you had not stopped the progress but had started apparently started to let your former hair turn white like you were an old woman instead of a woman in your late thirties to early forties. The knock happened again, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Baby, are you there?” You called out, hoping the nurse or doctor bringing the two girls to your side heard you. Your voice was no longer strong but rather soft and gentle because your only real interactions were with Emily and Marie. The door opened, footsteps of bare feet hitting the ground echoing slightly as the two white haired girls walked into the white room with a nurse closing the door behind them as quickly as she could to leave the sound of it slamming behind. It echoed for a second while the former babies (and therefore toddlers) stayed in the spots they had been left at.

“Maman,” the wavering voice of Emily called out, she had her fingers wrapped around the grey dress Marie wore though the two of them wore the same dress. Marie stood still, white eyes focused on the other side of the room while you watched them. Hand on the couch next to you, patting it softly to let them come to you but they did not move.

“Babies?”

“We can’t see since our last medicine,” Marie said. Not as soft or wavering as Emily; more confidence in her statement even when you could barely make out the shake of her body. The two of them could no longer see and you might have been the maker of their fate — after all your sight was also slowly vanishing. The nurses and doctors coming to see you had also explained that you iris was covering with white, the same white keeping your girls from seeing you. You broke out of your stupor when sniffles were loud enough to let you know something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” You stood, legs shaking under your body weight which had started to get less and less through the last few weeks as you could not let any meal send to you simmer in your stomach and stay in it, instead you always rush to the trash can which often gets filled with your insides soon after. Your legs trembled, a shaking breath leaving you as the sniffles turned into sobs while your girls still stood too far away.

You chose to not care about yourself, your eyes focused on the white haired girls which were your own by more than blood and rushed towards them. Bare feet sticking to the hard wood floor while you stumbled, arms moving to keep your balance before your knees gave out. Still too far from them but you used your arms to drag you were you needed to be, where you were wanted and could do nothing but who you are. Where you could be the mother they needed.

Hands softly grabbing their arms, their sobs now louder and almost like the screaming you had heard before they had been pressed against you after their birth. They calmed when they were in your arms, no further loud sob leaving them as the two of them buried their faces in your neck. Arms wrapping them in warmth of your body and gown, fingers going through the hair to calm them. Your sight might vanish soon but you would have to make sure you could get to them when they needed you, you were after all all they needed and they were all you had ever wished for.

“It’s okay, don’t be sad.” You whispered to them as they buried their fingers into your own grey gown and the same hair of white that you now shared, all of your features now almost identical to the little girls you had in your arms. “I’m here.”

“Mama,” Their voices spoke, your hold on them tightening. Head buried between them as the three of you became one, their hand grasping more and more on you like they wanted to bury themselves back into the womb they had come from. You would gladly accept them if they did so, they would never leave you vision again even if they wished for it. You were their protector and therefore would do anything to keep them save and let their tears dry.

“Can you sing for us?”

“Of course my little Marie.” Fingers going through the white hairs of the girls as they laid their heads between her chest and shoulder, hands loosening up on her gown and hair as they sat together on the ground. Humming starting as you cared for them, it was your three against the world and you would let them all know it.

Author's Notes:

apparently Alpaca's hum to their little ones to let them know they are safe etc. so really Reader is alpaca coded

scrapped the last scene i wanted to write because i thought it was more impactful to have only scenes with two girls instead of one without emily

Things you need to know that would have been mentioned in that scene: Emily's visits would have reduced to then after vanish while Marie visited often as her monster form.

Reader is a mother who yearns for her children to be at her side

Victor Gideon needs to get his lisense revoked because the hell you mean you call a c-section a MINOR sugery to someone you secretly made pregnant and then gaslit her into thinking she was just eating wrong for a long time while also pumping her full with medicine. Oh how Leon will love to kill you.

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shockingly, senku couldn’t pinpoint exactly where in the timeline the novelty of the relationship became second nature to you both.

distance shortened, literally and figuratively. you talked to him about anything and everything, not that you didn’t before, but senku thought this kind of talk was new. he started to feel swells of pride every time you sought him out for something, from questions about stars to if he would still like you if you were a worm. he liked your attention on him.

he liked your hands on him even more. they were usually casual touches, seemingly friendly to outsiders looking in, but to senku, he wanted to drown himself in it.

it was honestly baffling to him how affected he gets, ears red and skin delightfully warm, when you pat him sweetly on the cheek, run your fingers through the valleys of his knuckles, or press against his back, clinging onto his shoulders in an unexpected hug.

senku found himself reaching for you more too. your hand fitted perfectly into his, and so did your jaw. he grew addicted to the feel of your face in his hands, loved to trace your cheek bones down to the back of your neck, pressing light swirls into your skin.

3700 years into the future, where he becomes quite literally the smartest guy alive on the planet, senku has a multitude of things to think about, food, water, a new lab, if tsukasa really is going to build an army to off one measly scientist, and you. more specifically, the whereabouts of you.

he can’t find you, and that worries him. he knows you weren’t too far away from him before the petrification, exactly one seat from the window, doing some work you had forgotten while he was looking out of the window down at two little lovebirds.

he knows you shouldn’t be far, but he hasn’t found you yet. so, instead of missing your rambles and the delicate pressure of your skin on his, senku tries to focus more on the situation at hand. he thinks of items that would help him, a little bit about the possibility of death and advancing the kingdom of science. after all, he can’t just revive you into a world that’s just barely on its way to crawling. you would not like that.

as all good intelligent organisms do, senku adapts. he begrudgingly gets used to keeping his hands to himself. he misses the warmth of another on him, but it’s nothing an actual fire can’t fix! (spoiler: it doesn’t fix. he still yearns for one of your signature hugs where you squeeze and pepper kisses under his jaw. you’ve ruined the guy.)

he sidesteps away from the overly clingy advances of the others and favours quick interactions.

taiju he can tolerate. he doesn’t mind his hearty slaps on the back or the jigglings of his shoulder. the oaf is his best friend for a reason. yuzuriha’s company is preferred though, when taiju gets too excited. there’s only so much his ears can take. no more of either of them, alas, they’re all the way at camp tsukasa.

chrome is similar when he gets excited about science-‘sorcery’. his enthusiasm bleeds out into large gestures very deep into senku’s personal bubble, but that’s fine. the people of ishigami village are their own characters. he makes it his mission to not collect any more who do not know the definition of personal and space.

the lioness keeps her distance, which senku appreciates. what he doesn’t appreciate is whenever kohaku throws him over her shoulder and chucks him away from the general vicinity whenever he talks about something true. objectively true. not his fault she doesn’t like facts.

gen usually keeps his distance as well, but when it comes to his tricky schemes, gen isn’t below using his boundaries like a skipping rope. whenever he has that silly little gleam in his eyes, senku makes a point in avoiding him and his schemes.

senku finally finds your stone self just a few days after hyoga’s attack on ishigami village.

he’ll be honest, but as soon as he laid eyes on your statue, he almost collapsed to his knees, weak with sheer relief. however, after being hit with pure unadulterated joy, a dash of fear crashes into him.

how is he going to explain all of this to you?

hello lover, sleep well? missed you a bunch. how do you feel about war in a year against the tsukasa empire? what’s the tsukasa empire you ask? long story but basically it’s the strongest primate highschooler plus 100 others. how about we make it a date? you’ll get to see the tank that i’m working on — yes, a tank. it’ll be the first date in 3702-ish years. yes, i look a little worn. no, it’s not your eyes. your boyfriend has just aged a year and a bit without you.

senku can’t really bring himself to care much about it anymore. he’s selfish at heart. he’s taking his shirt off so quickly that he almost defies physics, and grabs the secret vial of revival fluid from his pocket that’s reserved for you and only you.

he hears a squeal from behind him, probably gen, maybe chrome. his vision is tunnelled on you.

it’s been 39,484,800 seconds since he had revived without you. 457 days — a year and three months. he tries to be as gentle as he can when he dresses your stoney body, but he’s desperate. forgive the guy will you?

as the stone falls from your body, senku doesn’t dare to move away from you, to the surprise of the mini audience of three he’s garnered. their reactions to the scene are either ones of loud shock (eyes wide and jaws agape, chrome could catch flies with how wide his mouth is) or excited gossip.

senku tries to angle his body in a way that hides the majority of yourself away from prying eyes. something stupidly close to possessiveness nestles into his chest. you haven’t even fully revived yet and he wants to keep you all to himself.

… so he hasn’t grown out of his clinginess in your absence. just his luck. (not that he would trade that for all the stars in the sky.)

you look confused when you finally manage to crack open your eyes. (valid fucking reaction, he should’ve hauled your statue back to the village and into his room instead of reviving you in the middle of nearly nowhere.) the hoarse sound of his name leaving your lips nearly has him throwing himself at you. he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“sleep well?”

“senku, why don’t you have a shirt on?”

back at the village, and after a brief explanation on, well, everything up to now (and finding some more clothes) introductions formally start. gen, chrome and ginro are all too happy to meet you. questions upon questions to which you answer happily.

out of habit, senku sits closer to you, shoulder to shoulder. you lean into his warmth. he finally feels at some sort of peace again by your side.

he knows he should be thinking about other things, science-y solutions to a war with no bloodshed, but his brain is just drowning in a cocktail of oxytocin and the familiar presence of you.

gen opens his wicked mouth, teasing.

“so it seems that dear senku has a lover, is that right?”

before you say anything in response, senku groans a blunt ‘yes’ and moves to rest his head on your lap, arms circling around your waist. instinctively, your hands make their way into his hair, playing with the strands.

all chatter seems to stop.

kohaku is the one to break the silence, “well, that’s the first time senku’s ever touched someone willingly.”

titters of agreement. oh well. all he does is clutch on to you tighter, trying to hide his reddening face away from everyone. you giggle at all their reactions. it’s a quiet sound but there all the same. god, he can’t think straight.

the next day, the day after that and the weeks after those, senku seems to have superglued himself to your side. the village slowly gets used to their new leader and his beloved/“betrothed”/lover.

gen truly laments the loss of smartphones and cameras. the number times he’s caught the two of you snuggled asleep together is astounding. senku never seems to leave you. always an arm around your waist, or a hand here or there. you don’t mind, used to the physicality of senku, of being practically joint at the hip.

hey so hi! i have been quite busy these past few days with school, so i hope you guys enjoy this!!! not fully proof read im so sorry if it’s a little well shit but yahhhhhhhhhhhh my brain was about to melt when i was figuring out the timeline and the aging aspect of this … probs was not that deep but eh i managed to map it out lol thank you anon for req 🫶🫶🫶

Until the next thing you saw was pitch black. You couldn't hear anything, unable to see, unable to talk, even move. It was scary for you. What's happening? Why were you in this kind state?

Is this the end?

How about the others? Are they fine?

How about Senku?

Is Senku fine? Or is he also in this similar state as you are?

Your tendency to keep thinking makes you conscious for a while. Although slowly, yet surely, you lost your consciousness.

Leaving your questions and thoughts unanswered for who knows how long.

The moment when you finally gained your consciousness was weird. Because, why you didn't see your school neighborhood? It was all trees, clear sky, and Senku who's not in his uniform, but looked like wearing a rag with a writing of the famous energy equation from Einstein.

Wait? Senku?

"Sen... ku?" you muttered in shock. Seeing his face after experiencing dark for unknown time feels unreal.

It feels like a dream.

"Yes, yes, it's me. It's not a dream."

Hearing his annoying remarks makes your eyes feels watery. At least, he was fine. He was still alive! Neither of you or Senku were dead!

You felt an overwhelming emotions that you hugged Senku unconsciously tight. You feel your hands quickly wrapped around his waist tightly and cried while laying your chin on his shoulder.

Though all you feel were his bones (since he was very thin), but it was all the comfort and warmth you needed for now.

You could even feel Senku's hands wrapped around you too, while tried to pat your back to soothe you down. He didn't say anything before you calmed down.

After you felt more calm, he finally said something.

"Ja... Now that you finally calmed, let me introduce you to my Kingdom of Science!"

Kingdom of... what?

You step back and looking at him with mere confusion. Until you realize, you and Senku were not the only people there.

There were a lot of unfamiliar faces (which most looks too foreign to be considered as Japanese). There was even a kid with a melon head? Most looking at you with mere shock, a few look at you with disbelief.

"Wow... I didn't realize Senku could act like that..."

"Are you... Senku's girlfriend?"

"Finally the Kingdom of Science got a new member!"

It was a chaos. You could only starred at them dumbly, like did you just crying while hugging Senku with THOSE people starred silently dumbfounded?

Besides you looking back at them in shock, little did you know, no wonder they act like that.

Like who would expect the logic, nonchalant, goal oriented, the guy who judge person based on how useful they were, would act like that towards someone? Even hugged you back?

You looked from the position you were in, you were laying on your back. "Where's everyone?" You sat down and stared at him. He had blood in his left sleeve and some bandages underneath, you frown. "What happened to you?"

"I asked them for some alone time" He dismissed your concern. You nodded; if he didn't wanted to talk about his injuries, you wouldn't obligated him. You got up and ran to him to hug him around the neck. His hands trembled on your back, but he eventually hugged you back.

"I think I died, I don't remember anything of what happened, but thank you for bringing me back". You mumbled in his shoulder.

You didn't want to let go from the hug, but... "So you don't regret a thing?". He asked in your neck and you broke the hug. "Let me check your back"

You looked at him surprised and did as he said. "Did Kohaku tell you?" You took your shirt off and showed your back to him.

"She thought you were dead" He shrugged with a cocky smile, even when you couldn't see him, he took a glass and listen your breathing. "Your cracks are gone and it seems that you no longer need the diuretics"

"Cracks?" You didn't knew you had those in first place.

"Yeah, those things" He pointed to his cracks in his face. "The revival fluid took them away and fixed your problems. Now you don't have to regret a thing"

You nodded and snickered. "Yeah, it's true. But from before I didn't regretted a thing. I will continue to haunt you, until the end of time". After all, I made a promise to Byakuya, you remembered.

He smiled softly this time, "Good, do it."

***

People cheering, music blasting from side to side, the smell of food and some muscular men doing a arm wrestling contest was the wild spirit on the Perseus now that Ibara's gone.

"Oarashi-sama here is gonna turn you into dust with his miracle power"

"You must think you're funny" Magma grabbed his hand. "What about you is such a miracle?"

You laughed at their contest.

You missed for a second your coworkers at the workshop, sometimes they did things like this to have fun when days were slow and just a few costumers were waiting for attention to their vehicles.

"Y/n!" Suika called you attention while running to you. "Have you seen Senku and the rest of the team?"

"Oh, yeah, they are at the communications room" You got up. "Let's go, I had enough fun for the night, we can get them some food"

Suika agreed and you both walked downstairs. You could still hear the music from the deck when you reached the hallway.

"You know?" Suika started. "I'm happy you're okay. When Amaryllis and Ginrou brought the news of Kohaku and you being petrified and injured, Senku's demeanor changed a little"

That's weird, you thought. He was calm when he talked to you.

"Really? Changed how?"

"Yes, he seemed a little distract-"

"Here we go! We got signal!" Chrome's voice echoed in the hall.

Kaseki's laugh could be heard too. "Our communication device is fixed!"

"Then let's return the call". Senku activated the radio and all of you waited. After a few seconds, Ruri's voice could be heard from the tubes. "Yeah, can you hear me, Ruri?"

"Thank goodness! I finally contacted you!"

"We can share out happy memories later. You need something, don't you? Shoot" Senku said and you laughed internally of his bluntness.

Amaryllis seemed surprised. "Isn't this. your first time talking to your former wife after all that's happened in the island?"

Former wife? What?

"That's Senku for you" Kohaku said to her. "But he has his soft spots" And she looked at you.

"Senku" Ruri's voice sounded worry. "Were you sending the strange transmiss-". Suddenly it sounded like thousand mosquitoes through the radio. Interference.

"There's interference by some other strong signal" Ukyo warned.

"Some other signal?" Gen was on his nerves. "There shouldn't be any other humans here!"

"Well... there's an exception" You said. "The Why-Man"

Suddenly a broken voice came through the tubes. "It's a human voice" Ukyo mentioned attentively.

The group payed attention to the voice coming from the unknown. Everybody step closer to the radio.

"Twelve million eight hundred thousand meters" That's... Senku's voice. "One second"

"Kohaku, step back!" Amaryllis and you said at the same time. She was the one holding the petrification device.

"Yeah. Keep it away from the speaker even if it kills you" Senku commented.

Ryusui hummed in thought. "Well, we know Why-Man's position now; he's trying to destroy us. This is a clear intent to harm"

"I don't get it, why by communication?" Chrome asked.

"Because if we don't give instructions to the device, Why-Man must do it itself" You commented. "Maybe it discovered he could do it with our radios"

This Why-Man is very clever, you thought. A solid attack, using our technology against us.

"This is insane!" Gen exclaimed in complete shock. "And twelve million eight hundred thousand meters! What's up with that ridiculously huge and specific number?"

"That's the diameter of Earth" Senku explained and some of the group gasp in surprise.

Ukyo seemed preoccupied by the other matter on hands. "But that's not the real question"

"Yeah". You looked at the scientist. "Senku, that voice..."

"It's yours" Ukyo finished the sentence for you.

"But how?" Amaryllis asked while hugging herself. "I'm so scared. I'm getting goosebumps"

"What's going on?" Suika's stuttering voice rumbled in the room. "Is Senku the one who was talking to us?"

"So who's the Senku who's here with us now?" Chrome asked skeptical.

"You're wrong" Taiju's energetic voice made present. "Senku could never be a bad guy"

"Such inspiringly sloppy reasoning" Gen added to Taiju's statement.

"It must be a smartphone recording!" Taiju suggested.

"Sadly, I don't have a smartphone". Senku stopped whistling and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And ten billion percent have no memory of recording that"

Recording.

Voice.

"Voice vibrations" You said while looking the chaos in the room stopping for a moment, they stared at you. "Maybe the Why-Man copied Senku's voice vibrations, but how?"

"Senku, didn't you used the radio to fight Ibara?" Chrome asked and Senku nodded. "Then that's how it happened"

"But why copy Senku-chan's voice?" Gen asked sweating.

"Maybe that's everything the Why-Man had to work with" You mumbled. This Why-Man was really intriguing, but concerning at the same time.

All the group remained quiet waiting for the voice to appear again. Kohaku went out of the communication room with the device in her hands.

When the copy of Senku sounded from the tubes, Ukyo payed a lot of attention to investigate. When finished, he looked at the group. "It's the same as the last time, even in its timbre" Ukyo confirmed. "Indeed is a synth voice"

"But how do you do that in the stone world?" Gen asked.

"We can assume for the moment that this Why-Man has advanced technology, just for the moment" You commented to not let the question hanging on the air while crossing your arms.

"But why is that petrification device on this island, anyway?" Kaseki asked.

"If anyone knows the history of the device, they might also know about Why-Man's identity". Senku took one of his papers of his belt. It was a drawing of the device.

Soyuz watched the drawing. "I remember something, not about the history, but the shape of the petrification device... I've seen it before"

***

The group went to wake someone who could tell the story of the device and found a man named Matsukaze; he mistook Ginrou for another man from his own time, and the blond man took the opportunity to boast about his new protector. Matsukaze quickly mentioned that all those devices fell from the sky in a monstrous attack.

But, if the Why-Man appeared when you all turned on the radio, why did it attacked them when there was no technological devices in Matsukaze's time?

Later the team decided to used a parabolic antenna to receive better signal to discover the unknown Mr.'s location.

"Twelve million eight hundred thousand meters, one second" The radio repeated the same message with the synthetical voice of Senku over and over again.

"Our measurements separation's too small to tell the difference" Senku informed.

"They're well beyond the surface or the atmosphere" Ukyo added watching the panel in front of him.

"I don't get it, what's going on?" Kaseki step closer. "The enemy is really far?"

Senku let a little laughed escape his lips. "The rotation of the planet will move us a few thousand kilometers. Enough to barely figure it out"

"In other words, they aren't infinitely far away or anything" Ukyo said more relaxed than before.

You looked at them both. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" You mumbled to yourself.

After a few hours dealing with the calculations of the signal, night arrived. The group reunited to talk about the situation at hands and to eat in the meantime.

"Well, then" Senku started and everybody stopped their little conversations. "Based on the results of our triangulation, the enemy is a few hundred thousand kilometers above". Here it goes, you thought to yourself while drinking some juice. "The Why-Man is on the moon"

"The moon?" Gen squeaked. One of these days he's gonna have a heart attack.

"It's moving in conjunction with the moon" Ukyo informed them. "There's pretty much no doubt"

"Is that even possible?"

"But how are we supposed to deal with them there?" Kohaku asked.

"Well... It's an inevitable outcome" You mentioned shrugging. After all, Senku have always wanted to go to the moon.

"Wait, wait, wait..." Gen prayed when he saw the knowing look on Senku's face. "I have a bad feeling about this again"

"Get in line" You mumbled.

"I mean, I can't see how this could be anything but bad" Gen's head could explode in any minute from now. "Yeah... I definitely know what's coming"

"We're going to the moon!"

***

The group began reviving everyone in the village. Once that was done, it was announced that we should begin construction of a new city on the island, Soyuz, willingly, decided to take charge of that and gave instructions to everyone.

Meanwhile, you were with Senku in the lab-car helping him with the fireworks show.

"You know? Yo showed me the gun you made". You said while helping with the salt. "The model is practical, but pretty old. It's resembled to the Stopler Revolver from 1597". You admired the gun they crafted without you carefully in the moment. "Couldn't you have made a slightly more modern gun or something?" You teased him and let a soft laughed escape. "Oh, also, your science rats had a pretty shitty engine, by the way"

He huffed while continuing with the powders. "You weren't around to ask" Senku said and gave you a quick look.

You smiled smugly and grabbed a cup with water. "That means you missed me?" You eyed him.

He didn't respond right away. "I had to go and find Kaseki to create those inventions" He said and sighed. "Your absence was tedious"

"In other words, you missed me" And gave him an cocky smile.

He seemed a little distracted, that's what Suika said to you in the hallway. And Kohaku said he worries differently when it comes to you.

Maybe it's because of our shared childhood, you thought. He already lost his father, he only has you, Yuzuriha and Taiju from before the petrification.

"Hey, Kohaku mentioned a disc while we broke the concrete in the inner palace" You mentioned to change the conversation. You wanted to tease him a little, not making him uncomfortable with the emotions thing. "What disc is she talking about? Did you create one?"

Senku stopped using the powder and looked at you. "No, Byakuya left a record for me and the village to listen to", He explained. And you didn't want the conversation to get emotional. "He mentioned you"

"Hey, guys!" Chrome voice bust in. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Working on a really exhilarating craft" Senku answered with raspy voice.

Chrome grabbed some of the material on the lab-car's floor. "What's this?"

"Zeolite" He pointed the meter. "It's like a desiccant"

"So that's why you two are all crusty" He mumbled but you heard him. He inspected the materials you were using. "Wait, gunpowder, salt and iron... What are you doing?"

You kept helping with the salt while listening Senku's explanation about Chrome's sorcery.

Byakuya mentioned me in the recording, why?, you asked to yourself.

***

When the night fell, everyone on the island reunited in the beach to enjoy. Gen, François and Kokuyo took charge of the food spots and the rest showed the benefits of science.

"What's going on here?" Senku formulated the question you had on mind when you two approached the beach.

"I gathered everyone here" Gen said while smiling.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "You heard us"

"Damn it, Gen, you were eavesdropping, weren't you?" Senku asked and Gen shrugged.

Soyuz got up from his spot on the sand with a gloomy look. "Senku, do you have a minute?" Senku looked at him so he could continue. "I'm planning on staying in the island to help us start over again". He stutter a little and looked at the crowd behind him. "To help it develop"

"Yeah" Senku agreed. "If that's what you want, do it"

Soyuz looked relieved after hearing the approval. "Senku, thanks"

"Why are you thanking me, dumbass?" Senku laughed. "The goal of all our missions is to solve the mystery of humanity's petrification"

You smiled knowingly.

"Yeah, you're right, so all of you can set out". Soyuz said and turned to ta. "I still remember how to make the revival fluid too"

"You remember all that after only one time?" Gen was amazed. "Your memory is insane"

Soyuz continued his speech about guiding the island into the new era and instructing Kirisame to go with the Perseus for protection when suddenly Ginrou's arrogant voice was heard telling Matsukaze to go with him.

You sighed and prepared for the show.

The lights went off and the voice of Chrome could be heard through the speakers. "Do yo hear me, you all? We're gonna show you something that's going to leave the whole Treasure Island speechless and wanting more!" He really knew how to make something entertaining. "Rainbow Bridge Max Level!"

Colorful fireworks lit up the sky.

"Fireworks, back in our era, they were meant to quell the spirits of the deceased and sent them off" Gen explained to Soyuz while admiring the show. "I think Senku-chan wanted you to see this on this island"

Regardless of the original intention, you felt like a child again back in your own time, alongside your father, Byakuya, and Senku at that festival; while the fireworks lit up the sky, Senku tried to guess the diameter, altitude and materials of each one of them. Byakuya complained about Senku's measurements, while you and your dad laughed at them and enjoyed the spectacle.

"I know what you are thinking about" You heard Senku's voice by your side. "I do too"

You only smiled and enjoy the fireworks by his side.

***

"I didn't remember you enjoying morning walks" Senku's voice broke the silence of the beach. He was looking at the enormous tree that grew on the spot where the Soyuz landed.

You approaching him and sighed. "I just needed to clear my mind after some traumatic things with the name Ibara on it"

"You're okay?"

"Yeah, I'll survive"

The waves crashing in the chore and the soft morning breeze embrace you two in the quiet moment you shared.

"Thousands of years ago, Byakuya and the other astronauts set foot here for the first time in an utterly deserted new world. However, they turned to dust long ago, with the exception of a few rock fragments".

You took a moment to absorb his words. "That's true, but they left their legacy." You looked at him. "We'll all turn to dust someday, but knowledge prevails. And even if it doesn't, you'll always find someone interested in learning and asking the questions no one else dares to make. Science connects us all, so drop the gloomy eyes and let's focus on the future"

He snickered. "True, and we're way farther than those goofy astronauts, we're going to the moon"

"Yeah, you said you wanted to go, after all" You smiled at him. "You better do it now"

He smiled back.

***

"So, now that we've acquired platinum from Treasure Island, we'll be pumping out a ton of revival fluid" Senku explained. "We're going all over the world to gather people and resources"

"I want it, and the Kingdom of Science will make it!" Ryusui exclaimed right away. "A luxury moon tour passenger ship, a beautiful ship of the stars!"

"Sometimes I forget how greedy you are" You commented while snickering.

"I've made some ships in my time, but I can't even imagine what this one will look like" Kaseki commented. "Is it big? Is it small?"

"Is it like a the hot air balloon?" Chrome asked.

"It's roughly the same size, but complex to build, specially the engines and the structure itself" You commented while remembering the ones from your time.

"Good thing we have a mechanic, right?" Senku looked at you and you snorted.

"Yeah, the Soyuz spaceship Byakuya-san was on was a three-seater" Ukyo added.

Kohaku turned to look at him. "So we aren't taking more than a few people, right?"

"Yeah, the astronauts than often do this are very specialized; they perform critical tasks such as piloting spacecraft, conducting scientific experiments, and performing spacewalks for repairs and maintenance of space stations"

"So, we'll need a pilot" Senku said.

"That's me!" Ryusui quickly commented while pointing himself.

"And without a science user on board, there's no point in going" Senku continued his explanation. "It'll have to be whoever is the most apt when the rocket's done"

"So... you" You said. "Always so humble"

"And I guess we'll need a fighting force" Ukyo added. "We'll want people we can mobilize. I'd rather not think about a combat on the moon, but we don't even know what Why-Man is"

Magma's laugh made present in the conversation. "So, we'll need the strongest we have! That makes things simple". He seemed very interested in the topic it surprised you. "How do we choose? Another official duel?"

"We aren't going to need another tournament just for that" Senku informed. "We already have our strongest"

"Ah, the sleeping beauty, right" You commented as you recalled the other purpose of the trip to Treasure Island: to awaken the same man who wanted Senku dead.

Ironic, you thought.

𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈𖥸┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸

There’s no mistaking the face that you’ve memorized in detail and remembered both fondly and painfully over the years; you could have spotted him in a crowd of people even now. The finer details of time passed don’t immediately register through the red clouding your vision.

He’s diffused a bomb before.

Chris’s comment snaps your attention toward the room’s door, but the three duck out before you can redirect your ire.

As you turn your gaze to Leon once again, your words falter ever so slightly, as the initial bit of blind rage seems to have run its course. The adrenaline still pumps through your veins, though your joints begin to feel the drag of exhaustion as remnants of the past two weeks of near-catatonia protest the sudden activity.

Leon’s hands begin to lower from their defensive position. In the few seconds of silence that follow – and against your better judgement – you steady your breathing and focus on the man in front of you.

Not even a decade has passed since you last saw one another. In between navigating life as a single parent and long nights at work, you’ve re-familiarized yourself with his appearance through old photographs as some sort of self-induced torture.

Never in your life would you admit it to anyone – not even Liv – but in Stella’s infancy, there had always been some sick, self-loathing part of you that hoped she wouldn’t inherit Leon’s likeness. Fate would see to it that not only would your daughter be the spitting image of the father who wouldn’t have wanted her, but that you would pay for such terrible thoughts by feeling your heart constrict on occasion when you look at her.

Even crueller still, Fate saw to it that Stella could see that pain, no matter how you tried to mask it or put some distance between yourselves in that small apartment. You resented Leon for it.

Seeing him now through the anger and picking out what features aligned with Stella’s might have completely wrecked you if you’d entered this room with the same collected exterior you’ve been keeping up in the face of friends and the Redfields. Even now, you worry you may just drown in that sorrow as your hands tremble enough to drop your bag and the stuffed animal onto the chair in front of you.

Choosing to focus instead on the features that make him exclusively Leon doesn’t help the conflicting emotions warring inside you. As you’d known him, he was always…well, fit. It seems now that he’s improved upon whatever regimen had made him so and elevated it, for lack of a better word; certainly, the tendons on his arms weren’t as pronounced before, and you’re positive he wasn’t as broad. The years had also hardened the softer angles of his facial features that you remembered him by in his early twenties.

Jesus. You’re still buzzing with remnants of that outrage, but have calmed enough to realize with some horror that you’ve been traveling for at least a day, haven’t slept properly in far longer, and didn’t bother to even check yourself in the mirror since God knows when. You probably look as hysterical as you feel and you only have seconds to care before Leon finally speaks.

“I can explain…”

“Then you better fucking start!” Your voice cracks and the noticeable cotton mouth is enough to make you wince and try to swallow despite the lack of moisture on your tongue. 

Your eyes shift to the side, looking for anything else to focus on, only to land on the United States Strategic Command emblem at the center of the long table. It seems the spark of annoyance hasn’t fully died out just yet as your arms jut in the direction of said emblem.

“The United States fucking government?!”

This will go nowhere if you keep this up, and Leon seems to draw the same conclusion as his seat pivots and he grabs a half-melted frozen drink from the table and mutters, “Coffee?”

The scoff that comes out of your mouth sounds more like a bewildered laugh. “I’m going to lose it.”

As if you haven’t already.

“Then something stronger?” Leon is unfazed, pulling a bottle of some kind of liquor out from under the table. Somehow it only annoys you further. “Was hiding this from Rebecca, but I think we need the icebreaker.”

“I am not drinking with you!”

“I’m not drinking. At least not right now.”

You have no choice but to catch the bottle as it slides across the table. You want to shove it back in his direction, but your hand grips the neck like a lifeline, still shaking.

“I need answers yesterday, Leon. My kid’s been missing for too long. And then as if my entire world hadn’t already been yanked out from under me…” 

You motion again toward the USSTRATCOM logo.

“You’re telling me,” he says gruffly.

Leon’s expression has been mostly unreadable, but you see then the way the muscles in his jaw tense for just a moment.

It’s enough to make you feel like the asshole, even if your need to see it from his perspective is short-lived. You sink into the chair beside you slowly. Leon has fished out a glass for the drink and slid it over, which you also grab.

You relent for now. As you twist the bottle’s cap and pour, your tone has settled from vicious to simply argumentative.

“Wouldn’t be the case if you hadn’t lied about your name to start.”

You’re taken aback when he laughs bitterly at that.

“Yeah, I’ll admit, lying about that was probably one of the dumbest things I could have done.”

At least top three, you think, but turn your head and stop the smartass remark by taking a drink. You expect it to burn, but even that doesn’t prepare you for the cough that follows.

Leon’s lips part, but he seems to reconsider whatever he’s about to say and instead continues. “There’s a lot I look back on that I could have done differently. I could have –”

“– I don’t wanna talk about that.” Your voice is strained and it has nothing to do with the alcohol. The bourbon doesn’t burn as much the second time, and you quickly follow it with a third and close your eyes to take a breath. Given your state and the way you already feel your muscles relax, you know it wouldn’t be smart to pour yourself another glass. You refrain for now. 

“I want to know how this affects Stella and I need to know if you really think…” You trail off and swallow, then open your mouth again to speak, but instead of words, you make a choked sound and clear your throat.

Leon’s arms are crossed when you look at him. He’d taken a more relaxed position in his seat before you started imbibing and remained motionless save for the rise and fall of his chest. As you try to get the words out, however, he leans forward slightly and you stutter, trying to complete the thought. 

Leon doesn’t rush you or speak for you, and for some reason, this only annoys you further.

“S-sorry,” you breathe.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s all right if you need a second.”

Your eyes close and you wait for the pressure building in your throat to disappear enough to allow you to speak.

“I just need you to be honest with me about –” Goddammit it. You don’t want to speak it into existence and search for any other way to ask. Finally you settle for: “D’you think she could still be alive?”

He promised to find her, didn’t he? What Leon hadn’t promised was the state he might find her in. No matter how many times you have prepared for a realistic outcome after the amount of time that has passed, you’ve never voiced it until now, and doing so nearly shreds the remainder of your sanity.

“I think she could be. Yes.”

A simple answer. You sense a but, but the way Leon’s voice softens alongside that bit of reassurance could very well be the balm your weary soul needs for now – not enough to cure the pain, but enough to tide you over until it returns.

“Chris is with the BSAA? And you…” 

Your knowledge of bioterrorist threats is limited, but you aren’t completely ignorant. Like the rest of the public, you were made aware of the existence of such threats after the highly publicized Terragrigia incident. The extent to which these threats are taken aren’t exactly detailed, and you suspect the government might be a factor.

Ignorance was bliss when you weren’t the one fearing for your child’s life.

“I’m a government agent, yeah.” You don’t react, and he takes it as his cue to continue. 

Leon doesn’t make an excuse for the double life he’d attempted with you, but you aren’t ready for that conversation. You’re almost relieved when instead, he launches into an abridged explanation of missing persons cases, as well as some small town in Georgia that seems to be connected per a missing agent’s findings.

You pull your knees to your chest as you try to focus on Leon’s words and what he’s implying…but something isn’t clicking.

“What does any of this have to do with Stella, Leon?” You ask slowly. Your tone is almost conversational and as your nails dig into your knees, you realize you’re bracing yourself for anything at this point.

“Every missing person is connected to Raccoon City somehow. Either they’re survivors themselves or linked to one.”

You nod once. The pressure in your throat starts to build again, so you don’t voice what you both already know.

Another breath. Another moment of Leon waiting patiently as you gather yourself.

Your entire body shudders, but you remember to breathe and listen.

“Based on one missing person that we found in Grier’s footage, I’m almost one hundred percent sure that Stella hasn’t been hurt.”

It’s the first time he says her name out loud. It sounds nice when he says it, and the thought alone makes you chastise yourself.

Stella’s bunny is in the seat behind you, and you slowly reach for it and hold it close as you have been all these nights. 

Silence sits heavily between you as you glance toward the bottle and reconsider not wanting to push it. His certainty can only provide so much comfort when you still have so many questions. Your mind pulls away for a moment as you brush the rabbit’s mended ear over your lips. The glossy fabric patching the worn fur is comforting.

Leon has switched seats when you blink and come to again. There were at least four chairs separating you two along the length of the conference table. Now, he’s sat in front of you, though you can tell he’s rolled back to provide a respectable distance. You don’t react to the proximity. The stoic expression has given way to concern etched on Leon’s face.

“You didn’t give her your last name.”

You swallow and let that sit heavily on the fragile barrier of tension between the two of you. Yes, you did say you didn’t want to discuss your past, but there had been a time where you wanted to find him for Stella’s sake.

“Despite…everything-” Your voice is barely audible, muffled further by the bunny’s ear. “-I wanted to give her an open. If she ever went looking for you, I wanted it to be her choice, but I also planned to be honest when she was old enough to understand.”

“Honest about…”

“...why I asked for a divorce.” You move the fabric away from your lips. As if to clear things further, you add: “I would have also told her you didn’t know she existed. I was telling the truth about that. I just…wanted her to be prepared.”

Now that he’s moved closer, you can hear Leon’s controlled breathing, which hitches slightly at your explanation. His hand lifts a moment, hesitates, and grabs the bottle, pouring a quarter of the way up the glass. In the seconds that he holds the bottle, you see it tremble slightly before it’s set back on the table. Leon then grabs the glass – his unsteady grip now obvious as the liquid moves in the glass – but he quickly sets it down with a groan.

“Would it have changed anything?” Tears brim your eyes and blur your vision but you blink them away. “If I found out before that talk, would it have changed anything?”

You can see the deep bob of his Adam’s apple, and the tone of his voice shifts, still retaining its professionalism but with a slight pitch.

“It would have changed everything.”

You believe him, but you can’t push the conversation further. There’s some comfort in knowing that if you find Stella, she can finally have a relationship with her father.

No, not if.

“How did you know?” The realization suddenly hits. Another piece that needed a spot in this confusing puzzle. “How did you find out about her? How did you connect her to all this?”

Leon had mentioned another missing person that they found. You’re both terrified and hopeful for the answer even as you piece it together just before he replies.

“Agent Grier’s hidden camera. The stills…we found one with a girl who’s a dead ringer for Stella. The case is so recent, I don’t think Grier realized, and…he’d have no reason to know her connection.” Leon’s brows crease. “I read her file and…well, it didn’t take long for me to figure it out. I called you after.”

Something between a gasp and sob rips through the tension that had been swelling in your throat. You cover your mouth, but don’t bother to keep the tears from spilling over this time.

“So, you did find her.” If the agent’s disappearance had been recent, then the evidence that Stella was still alive is more than you could have hoped for, not even a full twenty-four hours ago.

Leon’s hand twitches and he hesitates before standing, looking around, and finally grabbing a few napkins next to the now-melted frozen coffee. He turns to offer them to you, and you reach for them.

Your hands touch and linger for a moment. It felt like more of a handshake, but comforting nonetheless, and Leon seems to wait for your permission to let go. 

You do so, slowly, taking one napkin and blotting away the tears as he sits again and says, “We’ve just gotta bring her home.”

→ ✶ CH 6

“Yeah.”

There is a long sigh on the other end of the call. “You could have told us back then too, Leon. We would have tried to help.”

“You know it’s not that simple.”

“I know. Either way, I won’t dwell on what-ifs. We’ll get in contact when we land, and I’ll be expecting her to already have a heads up.”

“Yeah.” Leon’s head bows forward on his desk, supported only by the hand rubbing his left temple while the receiver remains on his right ear.

“We’ll find her.” Claire’s reassurance does little to quell the sickening dread, but it is appreciated. No matter how cross she can be with him, she could read him well enough to know when not to antagonize him. “It’ll work out. It always does.”

But at what cost?

At the very least, he has President Graham on his side. The attempt at a double life for the sake of something good (no matter how brief) may have cost him at the time, but perhaps the established rapport will work to his advantage.

“Thanks. I appreciate it, really. Talk to you soon.”

He hates the silence that follows. It leaves his mind muddled from the mix of alcohol and information overload. Had this matter not been so urgent, Leon might have spent hours looking into every detail of everything he’s missed, but he knows it will do little for the tide of emotions boiling inside him and threatening to dismantle every piece of furniture in his office.

Leon stares at the contact number on his laptop screen. In all these years, it hasn’t changed. 

How many times has a fond memory nearly driven him to dial the number from memory and explain everything? If he had called sooner, would it have made a difference? 

Could he have prevented this?

It was best not to dwell on it. For now.

He releases a long sigh and takes a long drink from his untouched water bottle before dialing.

Some masochistic part of him hopes you don’t answer, but he can hardly finish the thought when the line picks up after one ring.

“Hello?”

The desperation in your voice; the way it cracks as if your vocals could not handle all the grief spilling from them for two weeks.

Leon’s fist clenches around the receiver as he steadies his breathing, realizing he hadn’t even considered how to start this conversation. He’s silent for another beat – too long; enough for the rising panic to break through your strained voice as you grasp for a sign of life through the silence.

“Please…if you have her, I’ll do anything. I’ll give you anything.”

The exhaustion in your voice rushes through the receiver like a shot to the heart; as if every stage of grief has already ripped through you and all that remains is hollow uncertainty.

The water bottle is empty, but the cotton mouth feeling has returned when he forces, “It’s me. It’s Leon.”

Another beat of silence. Then…

He can hardly hear the dial tone over his own voice.

“Fuck!’

𝚈𝙾𝚄

What little sleep you’ve gotten does more harm than good when every waking moment is a living nightmare.

You lie curled in a fetal position in Stella’s bedroom, arms tightly embracing the pillow that had contained the photo. The landline has been moved to Stella’s bedside table so that you don’t have to leave what you have left of her to speak to Liv or anyone else checking in.

Before giving in to the fatigue, you replayed the last day in your head, searching for something you may have missed along the way, down to what neighbors you’d greeted and whether the bus driver that picked Stella up was the same as always. There had been no room for logic or reason when Stella didn’t walk out of that bus that afternoon.

You’d gone as far as chasing the bus down, only for the driver to confirm that Stella had not fallen asleep in the back. With Liv still on vacation at the time, there was no way anyone else could have signed Stella out of school. The private academy has strict rules regarding pick-up.

The call comes when you’ve managed to close your eyes and shut the world out in Stella’s bedroom. The pause sobered you from your groggy state to wonder whether whoever’s taken her decided it was time for bargaining.

The response, however…your addled state reasons that just maybe, you haven’t woken up yet.

As much as you try to convince yourself, it’s clear that denial and delusion were becoming a fine line.

The phone rings again. You shake your head and bury your face in your hands.

This isn’t happening. 

The handful of times where you set aside your pride to find Leon for Stella’s sake had turned up nothing. As if the man never existed. Had it not been for the physical proof of your past that bore his likeness, you may have wondered whether you hallucinated the entire relationship.

Your heart stops when the line goes dead, but nearly beats out of your ribcage when another call follows it immediately.

You pick up this time and sure enough, you hear Leon’s voice again.

“Please –”

“All this time…all these years of looking for a ghost and you choose to call NOW?” You spit the words out with years of hurt breaking through the carefully crafted façade you’ve maintained so diligently. “You have NO fucking right and I don’t have time for this.”

“I-I know. I can explain –”

“Don’t. I don’t care what you have to say,” you spit back. You don’t care that your words are straining through the very obvious sobs wracking your frame. You’re certain you sound far more devastated than angry, but god are you angry. “I only answered to tell you I want nothing that you have to offer –”

“– I can help.”

You swallow the ache trapped at the base of your throat. The interruption is enough to mitigate the list of insults you were ready to impart.

Does he know? How?

Stella’s disappearance has received some coverage, but not at a national level. Still, it isn’t impossible for him to have found out. 

You remain silent and wait.

“She’s mine.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t you hear?” A humorless laugh breaks through the tightness in your throat. “I couldn’t find you, Leon.”

“I mean on the last day. That’s why you…”

He doesn’t finish. You know what he’s implying.

You feel a cold sting spread through every nerve ending, and the tension in every muscle seems to release with no catharsis to accompany it. “I didn’t know. Not until after.”

When Leon doesn’t answer right away, you add: “How on earth can you help? How do I know I can even trust you?” 

For all you know, you actually have answered a call from Stella’s kidnapper. The thought alone seeks to break through the last shred of reason keeping you on the line.

“I can’t explain everything now but I have a couple of friends on the way to pick you up and fly you out. Chris and Claire – they’re good people.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking. And I need you to avoid telling anyone.” Despite the underlying urgency in his tone, there’s an unmistakable sincerity that helps quell some of the fire attempting to spread. “I can’t stress enough that this needs to be handled with care and we don’t have time to go over all of it over the phone.”

That sobers you completely, if only because you aren’t certain what exactly this might mean for Stella. He clearly knows something – more than any dead end lead – and you want every bit of information you can get now. 

You don’t respond because you suddenly feel the need to beg for more information.

It has already been two weeks. From what you can gather, if Leon is promising a different outcome than one might expect, then surely Stella isn’t in any immediate danger.

You feel the weight of the past two weeks on your shoulders. You feel it under your eyes, which have remained swollen from the endless barrage tears. You feel it hurt every beat of blood pumping through your broken heart. Your eyes sting and you wipe the tears away, but you cannot prevent the choked, hoarse sob that follows.

“I know you have no reason to believe me…I don’t blame you.” The urgency in Leon’s voice is gone, now low and calm; tender enough to almost remind you how it feels to rest your head on his chest while he whispers the sweetest assurances. “...but I just need you to believe that I can find her.”

Your breath is shaky as you inhale, and let it out slowly. Then you swallow and respond softly. You don’t even stop to think about the reply before it falls from your lips.

“I do.”

→ ✶ CH 4

“Yeah.”

There is a long sigh on the other end of the call. “You could have told us back then too, Leon. We would have tried to help.”

“You know it’s not that simple.”

“I know. Either way, I won’t dwell on what-ifs. We’ll get in contact when we land, and I’ll be expecting her to already have a heads up.”

“Yeah.” Leon’s head bows forward on his desk, supported only by the hand rubbing his left temple while the receiver remains on his right ear.

“We’ll find her.” Claire’s reassurance does little to quell the sickening dread, but it is appreciated. No matter how cross she can be with him, she could read him well enough to know when not to antagonize him. “It’ll work out. It always does.”

But at what cost?

At the very least, he has President Graham on his side. The attempt at a double life for the sake of something good (no matter how brief) may have cost him at the time, but perhaps the established rapport will work to his advantage.

“Thanks. I appreciate it, really. Talk to you soon.”

He hates the silence that follows. It leaves his mind muddled from the mix of alcohol and information overload. Had this matter not been so urgent, Leon might have spent hours looking into every detail of everything he’s missed, but he knows it will do little for the tide of emotions boiling inside him and threatening to dismantle every piece of furniture in his office.

Leon stares at the contact number on his laptop screen. In all these years, it hasn’t changed. 

How many times has a fond memory nearly driven him to dial the number from memory and explain everything? If he had called sooner, would it have made a difference? 

Could he have prevented this?

It was best not to dwell on it. For now.

He releases a long sigh and takes a long drink from his untouched water bottle before dialing.

Some masochistic part of him hopes you don’t answer, but he can hardly finish the thought when the line picks up after one ring.

“Hello?”

The desperation in your voice; the way it cracks as if your vocals could not handle all the grief spilling from them for two weeks.

Leon’s fist clenches around the receiver as he steadies his breathing, realizing he hadn’t even considered how to start this conversation. He’s silent for another beat – too long; enough for the rising panic to break through your strained voice as you grasp for a sign of life through the silence.

“Please…if you have her, I’ll do anything. I’ll give you anything.”

The exhaustion in your voice rushes through the receiver like a shot to the heart; as if every stage of grief has already ripped through you and all that remains is hollow uncertainty.

The water bottle is empty, but the cotton mouth feeling has returned when he forces, “It’s me. It’s Leon.”

Another beat of silence. Then…

He can hardly hear the dial tone over his own voice.

“Fuck!’

𝚈𝙾𝚄

What little sleep you’ve gotten does more harm than good when every waking moment is a living nightmare.

You lie curled in a fetal position in Stella’s bedroom, arms tightly embracing the pillow that had contained the photo. The landline has been moved to Stella’s bedside table so that you don’t have to leave what you have left of her to speak to Liv or anyone else checking in.

Before giving in to the fatigue, you replayed the last day in your head, searching for something you may have missed along the way, down to what neighbors you’d greeted and whether the bus driver that picked Stella up was the same as always. There had been no room for logic or reason when Stella didn’t walk out of that bus that afternoon.

You’d gone as far as chasing the bus down, only for the driver to confirm that Stella had not fallen asleep in the back. With Liv still on vacation at the time, there was no way anyone else could have signed Stella out of school. The private academy has strict rules regarding pick-up.

The call comes when you’ve managed to close your eyes and shut the world out in Stella’s bedroom. The pause sobered you from your groggy state to wonder whether whoever’s taken her decided it was time for bargaining.

The response, however…your addled state reasons that just maybe, you haven’t woken up yet.

As much as you try to convince yourself, it’s clear that denial and delusion were becoming a fine line.

The phone rings again. You shake your head and bury your face in your hands.

This isn’t happening. 

The handful of times where you set aside your pride to find Leon for Stella’s sake had turned up nothing. As if the man never existed. Had it not been for the physical proof of your past that bore his likeness, you may have wondered whether you hallucinated the entire relationship.

Your heart stops when the line goes dead, but nearly beats out of your ribcage when another call follows it immediately.

You pick up this time and sure enough, you hear Leon’s voice again.

“Please –”

“All this time…all these years of looking for a ghost and you choose to call NOW?” You spit the words out with years of hurt breaking through the carefully crafted façade you’ve maintained so diligently. “You have NO fucking right and I don’t have time for this.”

“I-I know. I can explain –”

“Don’t. I don’t care what you have to say,” you spit back. You don’t care that your words are straining through the very obvious sobs wracking your frame. You’re certain you sound far more devastated than angry, but god are you angry. “I only answered to tell you I want nothing that you have to offer –”

“– I can help.”

You swallow the ache trapped at the base of your throat. The interruption is enough to mitigate the list of insults you were ready to impart.

Does he know? How?

Stella’s disappearance has received some coverage, but not at a national level. Still, it isn’t impossible for him to have found out. 

You remain silent and wait.

“She’s mine.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t you hear?” A humorless laugh breaks through the tightness in your throat. “I couldn’t find you, Leon.”

“I mean on the last day. That’s why you…”

He doesn’t finish. You know what he’s implying.

You feel a cold sting spread through every nerve ending, and the tension in every muscle seems to release with no catharsis to accompany it. “I didn’t know. Not until after.”

When Leon doesn’t answer right away, you add: “How on earth can you help? How do I know I can even trust you?” 

For all you know, you actually have answered a call from Stella’s kidnapper. The thought alone seeks to break through the last shred of reason keeping you on the line.

“I can’t explain everything now but I have a couple of friends on the way to pick you up and fly you out. Chris and Claire – they’re good people.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking. And I need you to avoid telling anyone.” Despite the underlying urgency in his tone, there’s an unmistakable sincerity that helps quell some of the fire attempting to spread. “I can’t stress enough that this needs to be handled with care and we don’t have time to go over all of it over the phone.”

That sobers you completely, if only because you aren’t certain what exactly this might mean for Stella. He clearly knows something – more than any dead end lead – and you want every bit of information you can get now. 

You don’t respond because you suddenly feel the need to beg for more information.

It has already been two weeks. From what you can gather, if Leon is promising a different outcome than one might expect, then surely Stella isn’t in any immediate danger.

You feel the weight of the past two weeks on your shoulders. You feel it under your eyes, which have remained swollen from the endless barrage tears. You feel it hurt every beat of blood pumping through your broken heart. Your eyes sting and you wipe the tears away, but you cannot prevent the choked, hoarse sob that follows.

“I know you have no reason to believe me…I don’t blame you.” The urgency in Leon’s voice is gone, now low and calm; tender enough to almost remind you how it feels to rest your head on his chest while he whispers the sweetest assurances. “...but I just need you to believe that I can find her.”

Your breath is shaky as you inhale, and let it out slowly. Then you swallow and respond softly. You don’t even stop to think about the reply before it falls from your lips.

“I do.”

→ ✶ CH 4

He met you through Claire. He liked to talk to her from time to time and see how she was doing. Although, their conversations weren’t very consistent. It never took long for her to bring up the same name each time. Yours. You worked at TerraSave with her. She always spoke so highly of you.

Maybe he felt a little envious that she found friendships easier than he did. Yet, it did leave him curious as to who you were. He eventually met you one day. There you were, attached to Claire’s hip. It was nice to put a face to a name.

He couldn’t deny the sudden attraction. He reached out to you in secret after everything was said and done.

Claire would forgive him for stealing her friend away, wouldn’t she? Now, instead of him hearing about you, Claire was hearing about him through you. You knew she probably found you very insufferable when that engagement ring appeared on your finger.

He slowly circled the parking lot of TerraSave, scanning the remaining vehicles. There weren’t many. Just the usual workers who stayed after hours to finish their assignments. You and him had that bad habit of overworking. He eventually spotted your car. He should know it. He bought it for you after all.

Leon held back his smirk when he saw the empty parking spots surrounding your car.

Perfect. Everything was going according to plan.

He parked beside you and turned off the engine. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. He pocketed his keys, unbuckled his seatbelt, and grabbed the bouquet. He checked over it. Still in good condition. He opened the car door, his boots stepping on gravel.

He knew very well what he was doing. He intentionally wore his usual attire that you always had your gaze wandering over to him. His leather jacket, his dark jeans, a tight fitting shirt underneath. Though, he did feel a little ridiculous because it reminded him of being in school and trying to get your crush’s attention.

Leon closed his car door and held the bouquet in both hands. His eyes went from your car to his. What would be better? For you to find him on yours or his? He decided on yours, and when he was practicing which pose he should go with, he got caught by some young male employee walking by. The two of them stared at each other and had an unspoken agreement to pretend that didn’t happen.

He laid the bouquet on the hood of your car and leaned against it. He closed his eyes briefly, taking another moment to inhale and exhale. He would fully admit that he was nervous.

He began to think back to the moments that led him here. Working under the DSO and the horrors that he’d seen had affected him deeply. He knew it, and instead of relying on you or others for help, he turned to his vices. Leon allowed his drinking habits to get out of order. The arguments ensued. You told him to stop, he did for a few months, and he’d come home drunk after a grueling mission.

He never knew when your breaking moment occurred. He only remembered that when you said the word, divorce, he snapped out of his drunken haze. Only then did he start begging for you to reconsider. He’d even fallen to his knees, arms wrapped around your legs, telling you how he’d get the help he needed. Anything to get you to stay. But you were firm.

It hurt so badly to see you sign your name followed by “Kennedy” on those divorce papers.

More than all those times he got launched into oblivion by some bio weapon.

You separated. He moved out to some apartment. Now he drank because his life was shitty and you were gone.

You two were very cordial with each other. There weren’t any hard feelings and Leon never blamed you for the decision you took. He pushed you to it. So, in this new arrangement, he felt like he owed you something. He paid his and your bills, he sent you money, he took care of any problems you might have, and he bought you any necessities. And at least, in this way, he was still taking care of you like he promised you in his vows.

He got better after he helped Chris take down Arias. He focused on himself. And really, he wanted to fix things with you in the following months of his mission in Alcatraz.

But when his thumb hovered over your contact in his phone, he stopped. Something held him back. The doubt crawled. What if he found himself falling into that dark space again? The thoughts continued to fester. He wasn’t good enough, and you deserved better.

2016. 2017. 2018. 2019. 2020.

The years started to fly by. Every single damn time he went to call you, he held himself back. When he finally decided, no more, he found out he was infected. Despair filled his heart. Why now? He couldn’t go back to you like this. So he put it on hold.

He would fix things with you once he found a cure for this. Helping himself and the others infected with the same thing was part of his motivation. The other part? The absolute refusal of dying before repairing your relationship.

The mission was brutal. But like all the others, he pushed through. There were times his infection got the better of him and he did lose a little bit of hope. He was on edge wondering if his time was finally up.

Whenever he fell unconscious, he saw you. Your bright and glossy eyes when he got on one knee. You, in your beautiful white dress, approaching where he waited at the altar. Leon remembered shedding tears at how gorgeous you looked on your shared special day.

No, he couldn’t die here. Not yet. Not when he still wanted you.

He pushed through, and succeeded. You were his motivation.

And once he settled back to normal, he made his plan. Now, in the parking lot of TerraSave, he’d wait here as long as he needed to for you to come out. He opened his eyes again, filled with determination as the sky changed colors.

The parking lot began to empty as more employees clocked out.

Until—

Click. Click. Click. The sound your heels made on the pavement made his head snap in your direction. You were searching for your keys in your purse. You let out an annoyed huff. Why didn’t you get them before you left your office? Same problem at the end of every day. The lanyard around your neck was also fueling your annoyance. You jerked it back into place, finally finding your car keys.

You snatched them out of your purse and hooked the straps in the crook of your elbow. You lifted your head and came to a sudden stop.

Your brows knitted together. Were you… Were you seeing things?

Leon Kennedy was leaning comfortably against your car, his arms crossed over his chest. You spotted the bouquet behind him. The corners of his lips quirked upwards at the way you reacted to seeing him. He pushed himself off the hood of your car, reaching for the bouquet.

“Long day?” His voice cut the silence.

Yes, it was. You wanted to go home and throw yourself on your couch. What was your ex husband doing here? He looked better.

You took cautious steps closer. The bouquet he bought for you was beautiful, and he got your favorite flowers too.

“What are you doing?” You asked, the suspicion in your tone very much clear. His smile grew a little wider and he chuckled.

“I can’t come see my ex wife and give her some flowers after a stressful day?” He asked. You were standing closer to him now. He briefly checked out your ID attached to your lanyard. Oh, the giddiness he felt seeing “Kennedy” in bold print on the simple piece of plastic. He knew you never changed your last name after the divorce. “Are we on bad terms and I wasn’t informed?”

Leon watched your eyes slowly narrow. Damn. You were getting suspicious of him. How dare you still be quick to catch on to his schemes.

He held out the bouquet, “These are for you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You waited a couple seconds before finally taking the bouquet from his grasp. Your fingers grazed his rough palm briefly. Although you thought nothing of it, Leon felt his heart pound harder against his chest.

Just like the first time he met you, he was instantly drawn into you. He noticed your features. He could still see the younger you in there. It reminded him how you were both much older now and all the time spent apart. He should have been there the last decade. To see you and him slowly age together.

He found you so much more attractive. A part of him wanted to sit and stare at you for hours on end.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face which brought him out of his trace. His eyebrows quirked upwards for a moment.

“Did you hear what I said?” Leon blinked. He gave you a sheepish look and shook his head. You huffed and frowned. You were cradling the bouquet in your arms now, “I asked why are you here.” You weren’t mad or hostile, just curious to see him appear where you worked. He hasn’t done this since the divorce.

He didn’t respond right away. He tilted his head back slightly. He was contemplating on what to say. Or how to explain the way he’d felt since the first time he wanted to reach out to you.

Meanwhile, you kept staring at him with that look of curiosity. But on the inside? You were just as affected by his presence as he was by yours.

“I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders became tense at his apology. It was sincere, you knew it. Not like the one he gave you from his knees when you told him you wanted a divorce. Those were desperate attempts to keep you. Even he was aware he didn’t mean them.

“I’m sorry,” Leon repeated, his eyes meeting yours. “For everything. For being the reason why our marriage failed. For not being the husband I told you I was going to be… You didn’t deserve any of that. I don’t blame you for leaving me because you tried to help me, and I didn’t want any help.”

An unknown feeling in your body slowly began to disappear. Your throat tighten. This closure you were getting with Leon was something you didn’t realize you needed. For a brief moment, you were sent back to those early days when you were dating. He was still the same rookie cop from Raccoon City, slowly being shaped into an elite agent for the government.

“And I don’t blame you for no longer loving me.” He muttered, his expression becoming rather grim. It had been a while since he was this open with you. “I just need you to know that I’m still in love with you, and that I’m truly sorry.”

“Leon… I didn’t… I didn’t leave you because I stopped loving you. I never did.” You admitted. Your admission of how you truly felt made a flicker of surprise appear in his eyes. “I left you because if that’s how you were going to spend the rest of our lives together? … I wasn’t going to be able to live like that and watch you keep turning yourself into someone you weren’t.”

Did he really think because he became an alcoholic for a moment in his life that you’d stopped loving him? He couldn’t be more wrong. Yes, you hated that vice. It had destroyed him and taken control of him. But during the time he drowned his sorrows in heavy liquor, you never stopped seeing him as your Leon. He was just your misguided Leon.

He spent all these years believing you’d stopped loving him because of his addiction. This moment caused something to shift inside him. You’d given him all the confirmation and confidence he needed.

Leon slipped a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. His gaze went to the bouquet and then to you again.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” He asked. Leon watched you press your lips together, clearly not trying to smile. He chuckled softly, “You know you want to.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky attitude, “I’ll send you my schedule.” In all honesty, if you didn’t send it to him, he’d be okay with that. It would give him all the more reason to start pestering you since you wanted to play hard to get this time around. He did, however, feel a sharp pain in his chest when you mentioned a schedule.

It was a reminder how he no longer knew exactly what time you’d come home, whether you’d be flying out of state on a random Tuesday morning, or leaving the country.

Leon plucked your car keys from between your fingers. You gave another confused look as he pressed the unlock button on the remote. He walked over to the driver’s side and opened it. He held it open, nodding his head and motioning you to get inside.

Great, he’s starting already.

You made your way and stood in the middle. You shifted your purse, setting it on the passenger seat. You slipped into the driver’s seat, moving the bouquet from your lap and beside your purse.

He dipped his head down, planting an unexpected kiss on your cheek. You would have thought it was sweet… If he didn’t go and mess it all up by sinking his teeth softly into your flesh and giving it a pull. You hissed. He always did that in the early mornings when he was rushing off to the DSO because he chose to stay in bed with you a little longer.

“Stop it!” You covered your cheek with one hand and swatted him repeatedly with the other. He snickered, shielding himself behind his arms from your soft blows. You wiped away the saliva that wet your palm on the plastic wrap surrounding the flowers.

“What?” He laughed one more time. He rested his forearm against the top part of the car. “How do you expect me to act after my ex wife admits she still has a crush on me?”

“Leon, please do not call it a crush.” You rubbed your forehead with your fingertips. Here came the headache, “We’re 49 years old.”

“I’ve missed you.” He said. A smirk appeared on his face when you glared up at him through your lashes. He patted the roof of your car and dangled your keys in front of you. He quickly moved them out of the way when you tried to grab them, “C’mon. Are you going to make me work for it? ‘Cause you know I will.”

“I guess… I’ve missed you too.” You finally relented.

“Oh, you guess?” Leon mocked. You grabbed the keys in one swift movement from him.

“Get out of here before I call the security guard on you for trespassing.” You scoffed, putting your seatbelt on. He let out a loud gasp.

“I’m scared.” Leon sarcastically exclaimed. He clutched the front of his shirt, going on with his act of being terrified, “You’re threatening my clean record and my background as a cop.” You clenched your jaw tightly, turning your head the other way. He knew you were trying to control your smile and keep yourself from laughing at his jokes. But you broke. He heard the soft chuckle and you shook your head.

“You’re still annoying.” You looked over at him again. A silence settled. Just you and him staring at each other.

He decided to let you go. Leon closed your door, and walked around the front of the car. He heard the engine turn on. He nearly stopped to open the passenger side door and pretend like he was getting in. Let’s not push your buttons too much.

The two of you drove home on separate roads, miles apart like you had been the last 13 years. The only difference today? The two of you wore the same, identical smile and thought about each other.

Leon is in the familiar room you two once used to share. He’s in the same king sized bed with you wrapped up in his embrace. The feel of your bare skin pressed against his after all these years is so surreal. You’re fast asleep with your head tucked under his chin. You’re exhaling softly, your breath hitting his neck.

His fingertips are running up and down your spine in a slow manner. He’s awake, enjoying this feeling of being content. When was he the happiest, he wonders. Was it the day you exchanged vows on the altar or was it now when he finally had you again?

It had to be this very moment.

He kissed the top of your head, letting his lips linger. A mischievous smile appeared. He quickly rolled you two over, the sheets rustling as he moved your bodies. His weight on top of you pinned you to the mattress. You felt the disturbance in your peaceful slumber.

“Ugh… Leon,” You groaned in a drowsy manner. He grinned, noticing the twitch in your brows. He leaned up until his lips were by your ear.

“It’s your turn to hold me.” He mumbled. Leon began kissing your jawline, slowly moving down and down, until he came to the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapped weakly around his shoulders. He felt your nails lightly scratching his nape. He hummed and closed his eyes. His face buried into your neck, taking in your scent.

He met you through Claire. He liked to talk to her from time to time and see how she was doing. Although, their conversations weren’t very consistent. It never took long for her to bring up the same name each time. Yours. You worked at TerraSave with her. She always spoke so highly of you.

Maybe he felt a little envious that she found friendships easier than he did. Yet, it did leave him curious as to who you were. He eventually met you one day. There you were, attached to Claire’s hip. It was nice to put a face to a name.

He couldn’t deny the sudden attraction. He reached out to you in secret after everything was said and done.

Claire would forgive him for stealing her friend away, wouldn’t she? Now, instead of him hearing about you, Claire was hearing about him through you. You knew she probably found you very insufferable when that engagement ring appeared on your finger.

He slowly circled the parking lot of TerraSave, scanning the remaining vehicles. There weren’t many. Just the usual workers who stayed after hours to finish their assignments. You and him had that bad habit of overworking. He eventually spotted your car. He should know it. He bought it for you after all.

Leon held back his smirk when he saw the empty parking spots surrounding your car.

Perfect. Everything was going according to plan.

He parked beside you and turned off the engine. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. He pocketed his keys, unbuckled his seatbelt, and grabbed the bouquet. He checked over it. Still in good condition. He opened the car door, his boots stepping on gravel.

He knew very well what he was doing. He intentionally wore his usual attire that you always had your gaze wandering over to him. His leather jacket, his dark jeans, a tight fitting shirt underneath. Though, he did feel a little ridiculous because it reminded him of being in school and trying to get your crush’s attention.

Leon closed his car door and held the bouquet in both hands. His eyes went from your car to his. What would be better? For you to find him on yours or his? He decided on yours, and when he was practicing which pose he should go with, he got caught by some young male employee walking by. The two of them stared at each other and had an unspoken agreement to pretend that didn’t happen.

He laid the bouquet on the hood of your car and leaned against it. He closed his eyes briefly, taking another moment to inhale and exhale. He would fully admit that he was nervous.

He began to think back to the moments that led him here. Working under the DSO and the horrors that he’d seen had affected him deeply. He knew it, and instead of relying on you or others for help, he turned to his vices. Leon allowed his drinking habits to get out of order. The arguments ensued. You told him to stop, he did for a few months, and he’d come home drunk after a grueling mission.

He never knew when your breaking moment occurred. He only remembered that when you said the word, divorce, he snapped out of his drunken haze. Only then did he start begging for you to reconsider. He’d even fallen to his knees, arms wrapped around your legs, telling you how he’d get the help he needed. Anything to get you to stay. But you were firm.

It hurt so badly to see you sign your name followed by “Kennedy” on those divorce papers.

More than all those times he got launched into oblivion by some bio weapon.

You separated. He moved out to some apartment. Now he drank because his life was shitty and you were gone.

You two were very cordial with each other. There weren’t any hard feelings and Leon never blamed you for the decision you took. He pushed you to it. So, in this new arrangement, he felt like he owed you something. He paid his and your bills, he sent you money, he took care of any problems you might have, and he bought you any necessities. And at least, in this way, he was still taking care of you like he promised you in his vows.

He got better after he helped Chris take down Arias. He focused on himself. And really, he wanted to fix things with you in the following months of his mission in Alcatraz.

But when his thumb hovered over your contact in his phone, he stopped. Something held him back. The doubt crawled. What if he found himself falling into that dark space again? The thoughts continued to fester. He wasn’t good enough, and you deserved better.

2016. 2017. 2018. 2019. 2020.

The years started to fly by. Every single damn time he went to call you, he held himself back. When he finally decided, no more, he found out he was infected. Despair filled his heart. Why now? He couldn’t go back to you like this. So he put it on hold.

He would fix things with you once he found a cure for this. Helping himself and the others infected with the same thing was part of his motivation. The other part? The absolute refusal of dying before repairing your relationship.

The mission was brutal. But like all the others, he pushed through. There were times his infection got the better of him and he did lose a little bit of hope. He was on edge wondering if his time was finally up.

Whenever he fell unconscious, he saw you. Your bright and glossy eyes when he got on one knee. You, in your beautiful white dress, approaching where he waited at the altar. Leon remembered shedding tears at how gorgeous you looked on your shared special day.

No, he couldn’t die here. Not yet. Not when he still wanted you.

He pushed through, and succeeded. You were his motivation.

And once he settled back to normal, he made his plan. Now, in the parking lot of TerraSave, he’d wait here as long as he needed to for you to come out. He opened his eyes again, filled with determination as the sky changed colors.

The parking lot began to empty as more employees clocked out.

Until—

Click. Click. Click. The sound your heels made on the pavement made his head snap in your direction. You were searching for your keys in your purse. You let out an annoyed huff. Why didn’t you get them before you left your office? Same problem at the end of every day. The lanyard around your neck was also fueling your annoyance. You jerked it back into place, finally finding your car keys.

You snatched them out of your purse and hooked the straps in the crook of your elbow. You lifted your head and came to a sudden stop.

Your brows knitted together. Were you… Were you seeing things?

Leon Kennedy was leaning comfortably against your car, his arms crossed over his chest. You spotted the bouquet behind him. The corners of his lips quirked upwards at the way you reacted to seeing him. He pushed himself off the hood of your car, reaching for the bouquet.

“Long day?” His voice cut the silence.

Yes, it was. You wanted to go home and throw yourself on your couch. What was your ex husband doing here? He looked better.

You took cautious steps closer. The bouquet he bought for you was beautiful, and he got your favorite flowers too.

“What are you doing?” You asked, the suspicion in your tone very much clear. His smile grew a little wider and he chuckled.

“I can’t come see my ex wife and give her some flowers after a stressful day?” He asked. You were standing closer to him now. He briefly checked out your ID attached to your lanyard. Oh, the giddiness he felt seeing “Kennedy” in bold print on the simple piece of plastic. He knew you never changed your last name after the divorce. “Are we on bad terms and I wasn’t informed?”

Leon watched your eyes slowly narrow. Damn. You were getting suspicious of him. How dare you still be quick to catch on to his schemes.

He held out the bouquet, “These are for you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You waited a couple seconds before finally taking the bouquet from his grasp. Your fingers grazed his rough palm briefly. Although you thought nothing of it, Leon felt his heart pound harder against his chest.

Just like the first time he met you, he was instantly drawn into you. He noticed your features. He could still see the younger you in there. It reminded him how you were both much older now and all the time spent apart. He should have been there the last decade. To see you and him slowly age together.

He found you so much more attractive. A part of him wanted to sit and stare at you for hours on end.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face which brought him out of his trace. His eyebrows quirked upwards for a moment.

“Did you hear what I said?” Leon blinked. He gave you a sheepish look and shook his head. You huffed and frowned. You were cradling the bouquet in your arms now, “I asked why are you here.” You weren’t mad or hostile, just curious to see him appear where you worked. He hasn’t done this since the divorce.

He didn’t respond right away. He tilted his head back slightly. He was contemplating on what to say. Or how to explain the way he’d felt since the first time he wanted to reach out to you.

Meanwhile, you kept staring at him with that look of curiosity. But on the inside? You were just as affected by his presence as he was by yours.

“I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders became tense at his apology. It was sincere, you knew it. Not like the one he gave you from his knees when you told him you wanted a divorce. Those were desperate attempts to keep you. Even he was aware he didn’t mean them.

“I’m sorry,” Leon repeated, his eyes meeting yours. “For everything. For being the reason why our marriage failed. For not being the husband I told you I was going to be… You didn’t deserve any of that. I don’t blame you for leaving me because you tried to help me, and I didn’t want any help.”

An unknown feeling in your body slowly began to disappear. Your throat tighten. This closure you were getting with Leon was something you didn’t realize you needed. For a brief moment, you were sent back to those early days when you were dating. He was still the same rookie cop from Raccoon City, slowly being shaped into an elite agent for the government.

“And I don’t blame you for no longer loving me.” He muttered, his expression becoming rather grim. It had been a while since he was this open with you. “I just need you to know that I’m still in love with you, and that I’m truly sorry.”

“Leon… I didn’t… I didn’t leave you because I stopped loving you. I never did.” You admitted. Your admission of how you truly felt made a flicker of surprise appear in his eyes. “I left you because if that’s how you were going to spend the rest of our lives together? … I wasn’t going to be able to live like that and watch you keep turning yourself into someone you weren’t.”

Did he really think because he became an alcoholic for a moment in his life that you’d stopped loving him? He couldn’t be more wrong. Yes, you hated that vice. It had destroyed him and taken control of him. But during the time he drowned his sorrows in heavy liquor, you never stopped seeing him as your Leon. He was just your misguided Leon.

He spent all these years believing you’d stopped loving him because of his addiction. This moment caused something to shift inside him. You’d given him all the confirmation and confidence he needed.

Leon slipped a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. His gaze went to the bouquet and then to you again.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” He asked. Leon watched you press your lips together, clearly not trying to smile. He chuckled softly, “You know you want to.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky attitude, “I’ll send you my schedule.” In all honesty, if you didn’t send it to him, he’d be okay with that. It would give him all the more reason to start pestering you since you wanted to play hard to get this time around. He did, however, feel a sharp pain in his chest when you mentioned a schedule.

It was a reminder how he no longer knew exactly what time you’d come home, whether you’d be flying out of state on a random Tuesday morning, or leaving the country.

Leon plucked your car keys from between your fingers. You gave another confused look as he pressed the unlock button on the remote. He walked over to the driver’s side and opened it. He held it open, nodding his head and motioning you to get inside.

Great, he’s starting already.

You made your way and stood in the middle. You shifted your purse, setting it on the passenger seat. You slipped into the driver’s seat, moving the bouquet from your lap and beside your purse.

He dipped his head down, planting an unexpected kiss on your cheek. You would have thought it was sweet… If he didn’t go and mess it all up by sinking his teeth softly into your flesh and giving it a pull. You hissed. He always did that in the early mornings when he was rushing off to the DSO because he chose to stay in bed with you a little longer.

“Stop it!” You covered your cheek with one hand and swatted him repeatedly with the other. He snickered, shielding himself behind his arms from your soft blows. You wiped away the saliva that wet your palm on the plastic wrap surrounding the flowers.

“What?” He laughed one more time. He rested his forearm against the top part of the car. “How do you expect me to act after my ex wife admits she still has a crush on me?”

“Leon, please do not call it a crush.” You rubbed your forehead with your fingertips. Here came the headache, “We’re 49 years old.”

“I’ve missed you.” He said. A smirk appeared on his face when you glared up at him through your lashes. He patted the roof of your car and dangled your keys in front of you. He quickly moved them out of the way when you tried to grab them, “C’mon. Are you going to make me work for it? ‘Cause you know I will.”

“I guess… I’ve missed you too.” You finally relented.

“Oh, you guess?” Leon mocked. You grabbed the keys in one swift movement from him.

“Get out of here before I call the security guard on you for trespassing.” You scoffed, putting your seatbelt on. He let out a loud gasp.

“I’m scared.” Leon sarcastically exclaimed. He clutched the front of his shirt, going on with his act of being terrified, “You’re threatening my clean record and my background as a cop.” You clenched your jaw tightly, turning your head the other way. He knew you were trying to control your smile and keep yourself from laughing at his jokes. But you broke. He heard the soft chuckle and you shook your head.

“You’re still annoying.” You looked over at him again. A silence settled. Just you and him staring at each other.

He decided to let you go. Leon closed your door, and walked around the front of the car. He heard the engine turn on. He nearly stopped to open the passenger side door and pretend like he was getting in. Let’s not push your buttons too much.

The two of you drove home on separate roads, miles apart like you had been the last 13 years. The only difference today? The two of you wore the same, identical smile and thought about each other.

Leon is in the familiar room you two once used to share. He’s in the same king sized bed with you wrapped up in his embrace. The feel of your bare skin pressed against his after all these years is so surreal. You’re fast asleep with your head tucked under his chin. You’re exhaling softly, your breath hitting his neck.

His fingertips are running up and down your spine in a slow manner. He’s awake, enjoying this feeling of being content. When was he the happiest, he wonders. Was it the day you exchanged vows on the altar or was it now when he finally had you again?

It had to be this very moment.

He kissed the top of your head, letting his lips linger. A mischievous smile appeared. He quickly rolled you two over, the sheets rustling as he moved your bodies. His weight on top of you pinned you to the mattress. You felt the disturbance in your peaceful slumber.

“Ugh… Leon,” You groaned in a drowsy manner. He grinned, noticing the twitch in your brows. He leaned up until his lips were by your ear.

“It’s your turn to hold me.” He mumbled. Leon began kissing your jawline, slowly moving down and down, until he came to the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapped weakly around his shoulders. He felt your nails lightly scratching his nape. He hummed and closed his eyes. His face buried into your neck, taking in your scent.