"Sure, kid." But he will be back. Snake can tell just from looking at him. It's a shame, and he does feel for the guy. Clearly, he'd wanted something else. They all had. WELCOME LEON! What a shitshow... and there's no putting it all back in the box. Things like this, they change you. They settle in your bones. He knows, the way he knows when someone is following him or knows when he's going to win a fight, that not a day will go by when Leon doesn't think of this place. He'll go to sleep at night and wake up screaming, reaching for his gun to ward of imaginary zombies. And when it becomes too much, he'll follow Umbrella's work across the world, because he'll feel responsible when something goes wrong and he isn't there.
Snake wishes that he could take it away. If it were possible, he'd reach out and tap Leon's forehead and suck up all the memories of the past twenty-four hours. He'd carry them instead. But he can't, and there's no use longing for what can never be, so he lays the idea to rest quietly in the back of his mind and stubs out his cigarette. "Listen. I'll give you my contact. Don't share it with anybody. But if something like this comes up again and you need a hand... call."
