Pairing: Leon and daughter!Phantomthief!reader
Summary: As your father, Leon, awaits you at home he's struck with horrible news of your death. You're all over the news, but something that shocks him just the same is you being the leader of the Phantom thieves he's been after the past few months. Can Leon find out what truly happened to you?
SFW: platonic, Leon breaking into a police department, old trauma, he's widowed, tw - suicidal thoughts and Leon drinking himself to sleep due to depression
Requested by @thewolffairytaler
His head hangs low, the remote control abandoned near his feet after having looked through the news for something to watch before you'd be home.
Well.. you'd never come home.
That damned smile on TV, the one he's used to seeing for the past 17 years, is plastered on every channel. What makes it even worse was the caption under it.
Phantom thieves leader, a 17 year old highschool student, commits suicide after interrogation.
Leon knew about the Phantom thieves since they went viral just a few months ago. Everyone, not only in the US, has been talking about them nonstop – merch everywhere even in the smallest stores in the state.
What he'd never expect was you, his baby girl he's been nurturing since birth, to be THE leader of that group. A group he was after. The DSO saw the Phantom thieves as a danger for all, people that use special BOWs to bring everyone down.
Leon's been hot on their heels for months now, but never gotten close to catching them in the act.
It was as if.. they never existed.
But they've been right under his nose all this time. How could he be so stupid? All those times you said you'd hang out with friends. And those friends? He rarely saw them except a few times you'd bring them home to isolate yourselves in your room.
How could he be so blind?
“Pick up..” His hands shake as he dials your phone number. “Come on, Baby..”
Just as Leon thinks he has gotten further is when that stupid over enthusiasm in your voicemail pushes him over the edge.
“FUCK!” He throws his phone across the room, not caring if it broke. With the money to his name he could buy thousands of the same replica, but you?
He couldn't – can't – replace you.
Sobs, which were unusual for him, wrack his body, fingers pulling at every strand of his previously styled hair.
The tears wouldn't stop falling, so much so that he nearly misses that faint glow from where he had thrown his phone to.
Leon immediately pounces onto the small device,begging, to whatever was above, that it would be your name hovering over your picture.
Disappointment heaves down at his shoulders, the frustration growing as he only sees Sherry's name popping up.
Leon. (Sent one minute ago)
I saw the news, pick up Leon. (Sent one minute ago)
He doesn't. If Sherry got involved god knows what would happen. Leon's lost one daughter already, he couldn't lose another.
The first person that came to mind who'd be ready to help was none other than his old colleague, Hunnigan.
Ingrid hadn't been assigned as his operative in quite some time. Ever since he had grown sick, Sherry – who also carries the same illness – had insisted on helping him along the way.
Now that Leon thinks about it.. you have been very worried for both, lurking nearby whenever he was calling Sherry as if he wouldn't notice your presence.
It takes some time to find Ingrid's phone number, but when he does he immediately dials it.
It takes about thirty seconds for someone to pick up and from the vibe he was getting from his old friend she already knew why he had called.
He has to bite down hard until his jaw is cracking to keep another whimper in, the reminder that you were gone heavy on his heart. With another deep breath he only hums out in affirmation.
Leon doesn't wait for Ingrid to say anything else, the words flying out of his mouth like air he breathes in. “I need to find out how she died. I'm sure she wouldn't just.. end it.”
“Leon.. She was in a difficult spot and–”
Hunnigan doesn't argue and simply shuts up. She knows that if she says anything else he'd simply hang up and go on his own accord. But she doesn't stop thinking about the fact that you were in police custody, probably abused into saying what they wanted you to say. What better way to escape than the easy way out?
“Here's what we're gonna do..” Leon starts. “You're gonna send me some footage from the interrogation room while I look through some evidence.”
“Evidence? Footage? You know I'm not a hacking pro. I-I would need the password and model number to the camera to even–”
“On it.” Leon hangs up before Ingrid could say anything else, his first thought at where the interrogation took place.
Soon he finds himself in front of the biggest police department there is in town. It does remind him a little of the RPD, with the extravagant design from the outside and surely also from the inside.
That's not what he's here for though.
If he wants to find the information he needs he has to play along. Pretty sure no one outside of very special officers and interrogators know of his identity and relation to you. The police aren't as close to the DSO as many might think.
Inside he firstly scans the area for any cameras, hoping to find one so he could figure out the model number.
“Excuse me?” His eyes snap back to a young woman, obviously a police officer judging by her uniform. “What can I do for you?”
Leon steps to the reception desk, trying his best to not look like a grieving father who's out for a type of revenge that no one wants to be on the receiving end of.
“Hi.” He clears his throat. “Uhm.. I'm with the DSO. Leon my name.. uhm.. I'd like to take a look at one of your interrogation rooms.” He shows her his badge, hoping she wouldn't ask for a full name.
Her demeanor changes into confusion, but she still keeps that sweet and professional stance. “Why? Which one?”
“You know which one. We need some information.”
At the sudden shift in his whole being the young woman tenses up a little and types something into her computer. “Well.. uhm.. I'd have to get my manager first so–”
“No need. I assure you I mean no harm. I just need your cooperation.” Leon places a steady hand on the table. “Please. Either that or the footage would be enough.”
As serious as she seemed not even seconds ago, the young woman — whose last name, going off of the name tag on her uniform, is L-something Myers – can't help shaking in her boots. Her inexperience reeks with the way she was eyeing him like she could trust what he, a mere stranger, says.
“Alright, alright.” She says in defeat. “I'll give you the key to the interrogation room. Unfortunately I can't give you any footage. Rules are rules.”
He nods, a triumphant smile grazing his chapped lips. Without hesitation he's off, key in hand and informed with where his goal is. Just steps away from where the interrogation room is he gets cold feet, his heart beating up to his throat.
Realization about where exactly he was heading made him nearly break down again.
You died here, at least that's what everyone believes.
“Hunnigan. Hunnigan, come in.” He presses one finger on his ear piece he sneaked onto himself just before entering the department. “I'm inside the room.”
The other end cracks a little before the familiar voice of his operative. “Alright. I've already cracked some evidence with the IP you've sent me earlier. Do you see any cameras?”
His blueish eyes scan the walls for any machinery and –voila– two of them hang on opposite sides of the other. Instead of taking one of the chairs and carelessly checking the little thing, he looks around a little more.
If you had died not even a day ago, the people involved in the interrogation did a good job on cleaning everything up. No blood, bone fragments or even brain scattered around. Nothing. It made him sick just thinking of it.
“How am I supposed to give you any number if they've got me recorded?”
Ingrid sighs. “Remember that app I asked you to download for that one mission in Texas?”
Right! Leon immediately remembers and flicks his phone out of his pocket, the app quickly located among the many others. Those colorful games that you used to play not that long ago made his heart ache at the thought of your fate.
He clicks through many buttons until he finds the one he needs.
Deactivate nearby devices.
The red lights of the cameras turn off, indicating that they've stopped recording. Leon doesn't take a second to stand on a chair to get the model number, which he recites to the woman on the other end of his earpiece.
“Got it.” Ingrid says, the sound of her typing on a keyboard audible. “Now get out of there. It won't be long until someone notices the cameras off.”
Leon hums, but doesn't do as she says. His fingers brush over the table in the middle of the room as he grows embarrassingly sentimental.
This is where you sat. Where you cried, where you were probably tortured for information, where you..
“LEON!” His hand flies up to his earpiece. “Leon. You have to get out of there. NOW!”
With his lips parted and eyes trained on the door. His hand tightens around the gun in his pocket, which he had hidden well enough so no one knew that he's armed. He's been fighting monsters his whole life, bio weapons and his own, but he'd never be a match against a whole army of officers. Not if he wants to find out what happened to you.
“The vent! There's a vent, Leon!” On Ingrid's command he looks around for the small opening. Just as expected it was big enough to fit him, his body quickly moving through the small space. The yelling of the officers shake him to his usually icy core. What if they find him and he'd never be able to find out what really happened to you?
Fortunately he makes it out and sneaks out one of the windows through a bathroom where no cameras were.
Back in his Porsche, Leon takes a deep almost guttural breath. The thought of what could've happened if they reached him before he could slip out made Leon sick.
“Leon.” Ingrid calls his name for the fifth time until he finally responds with a raspy hum. “I sent you the footage.”
His hand digs deep into his pocket, clicking on the first pop up notification that leads him to a video with horrid quality.
Leon sucks in a painful breath as he sees your slumped form as the frames clear a little. Two men slam their hands opposite of you, yelling at you – which was inaudible. You look exhausted, breaking Leon's heart more and more. All he ever wanted was to protect you, Phantom thief or not.
You're his baby girl. He promised you the world, promised your mother he'd take good care of you before her death.
He failed you. Failed her. Hell, he failed himself.
The video goes on, a young woman sitting in front of you and talking calmly – other than the other two guys– to you. Soon she also leaves after you said something to her. What's strange is that she has your phone in hand. Why your phone?
Before anything else can happen the footage cuts to static, making Leon clutch his phone harder before throwing it across the car.
He slams his hands to his face, crying into them as everything grows hopeless. His palms dig so hard into his eyes that he sees stars.
Was this all he could do? There was nothing else to look at except static. No real evidence except some documents that were censored mostly.
“Leon.” Ingrid's calm voice breaks through the Storm in his head. “Leon. I'm sorry.”
“You should stay at a motel. I'm sure they will look for you.
Leon's autopilot turns on and before he knows it he's already buried deep in a rather uncomfortable bed in a very cheap motel. He's been dunking himself into alcohol, the even cheaper kind.
It's been at least three hours since his break-in into the police department downtown. Hunnigan had said her goodbyes and condolences, which went in one ear and out the other.
You've been dead nearly one day. Have you though? The news said so, which probably means you've been gone even longer.
Soon he's fast asleep, sprawled out and about with one hand hovering over an abandoned whiskey bottle. The pillow was covered with drool and tears, mixing all over the fabric.
His sleep is dreamless just as the next week he's spending in the cheap motel, not answering any call from whoever it was. His phone's cracked screen needs rest just as much as he does.
One day he's strolling through the city's streets, hoping to get his mind off of things. He's been thinking a lot more depressive lately, things he never dared to think while near you.
Things that only came to mind while passing the streets, walking over the local bridge or even just staring at the revolver in his pocket.
His heart was aching, worse than ever before. Worse than post-RC.
The news of your death were all over the news, even the huge screens across the city. It's like something or rather someone – that someone being you– is haunting him.
“Attention!” A loud voice suddenly yells through the street, gaining everyone's attention including Leon's.
The biggest screen on one of the skyscrapers glitches into the symbol of the Phantom thieves, an eerie laugh following close by.
“We'd like to borrow your time with exciting news!” A joyful voice states. “The recent news about the death of many RC-survivors, the lies about a serial killer doing such things and even the death of our beloved leader..”
People murmur all around, questioning whatever these ‘hackers’, as they call them, are up to.
“All lies fabricated by one man!” The person giggles. “Before we reveal who it is we'd like to give you some information that some of you might think to take with a grain of salt.”
Many silhouettes appear on screen, the most prominent the one in the middle. A young girl with her hair braided over her shoulders, stepping forward until only she remains alongside two leaning against her. The light lightly shines onto her features, revealing her white mask.
And those eyes Leon would recognize in even the most crowded rooms.
“Many thought I'd just pull the trigger, huh?” A smirk forms on her face – which clearly belongs to you. “Well, I didn't. Sorry not sorry!”
The screen grows dark again, turning back into the normal advertisements. People talk even louder now, upset that they didn't get to see the mastermind behind the serial cases.
Well, doesn't take long for that glitching to start again.
“Thought you could get rid of us, huh?” A male voice says. “Well. Before you do you surely want to know who the said man is.”
“He's none other than.. the infamous Victor Gideon.”
Gideon? He's not that well known among the people of the US, but it still garners a lot of gasps and shocked expressions among the people who were watching this live.
“Might not ring any bells for you all, but.. he's been working with a huge company to find out more about this syndrome, even going as far to injecting people with it. He knows of a cure, or at least has the talent to create one.”
The screen glitches back into the symbol of the Phantom thieves,a high pitched voice laughing out loud before saying their last words. “Well, we'll keep you up to date and we won't go anywhere until justice has been served.” Before the screen goes dark your eyes glow in the lights again, a cat's meow is the last thing everybody hears.
Police officers hold back people as they try to get answers from them, but Leon already has his answer. You're alive.
Faster than ever. Faster than he's run during any BOW attacks.
Once he's in his car he's already speeding through the streets, fast enough to not get a speeding ticket. Once he's outside your shared apartment he's already getting sweaty hands and cold feet. What if all of this is a trick? A trick to catch him off guard and arrest him.
Oh well. At least he's tried.
Leon skips up the stairs, stumbles over his feet in the process. Once he's at his door he looks through his pockets for a key. His shaky hands loose the key multiple times, crouching down to pick them up again. As soon as he's unlocked the door he's slamming his body against it to open it faster.
Inside he's in for a shock.
The whole place was trashed, probably the police having looked for him. Hunnigan was right.
“Baby?” His voice trembles, something that was uncharacteristic for him. “Honey, are you home?”
First he thinks you hadn't even thought of coming home, but to his surprise you suddenly run out of your room, eyes wide and cheeks tear stricken. A young man follows you out, hands in his pocket and a nonchalant expression on his face. Leon pays him no mind and rushes to scoop you up in his arms.
“Oh God..” The tears take over before he knows it, his face buried in your hair. “I thought.. oh.. Baby..”
You cry just as much, hands wrapped around his upper body. He reeked of alcohol, but mostly of that perfume that made you feel secure around him. This time you didn't berate him for drinking, something you did every time he drank something.
“Daddy..” You sniffle. “T-The place was trashed so I thought.. t-they came after you too..”
You look up at him, his hands instinctively flying up to cradle your face. His lips ghost over your forehead, hoping that all of this, all of you, wasn't a dream.
“I knew you were alive. All along. I just couldn't believe you'd do that.” His hands brush back hair from your face, touching everywhere to make sure you were real. “How? How did you..”
“Long story.” Your face wears a warm smile, saddened a little but still all smiley. “I'll tell you another time, but now.. I just wanna hug you.”
Leon doesn't let you tell him twice and pulls you back into a huge bear hug, kisses planted all over your face and hairline.
You're home and he won't let you go like that again. Even if it costs him everything.
