#v1.

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Grace reminded Leon of himself when he was younger; eager to help, eager to learn, and eager to figure herself out. Whereas Leon's figuring things out event was RACCOON CITY, Grace's was volunteering herself for TESTS at the DSO's expense. Tests that had, to their knowledge, never been attempted on a person before. Tests that had, up until now, been carried out only on cadavers.

It didn't sit right with Leon, heavy in his gut. But if she really wanted to do it, just like that stupid rookie really wanted to make a difference, then he'd keep his mouth shut and support her. He'd rather be present than not there at all.

"I'll shoot 'em." He said flatly, not a hint of a joke in his tone. He allowed that to settle as he took a sip of his too-hot coffee, a smirk breaking out before he could truly let the joke land.

"Hey, I'll be there. And if they try anything 'weird'?" Leon passed the mug from one hand to the other, glancing down so that he didn't spill any on her nice ( nicer than his ) carpet. His gaze lifted back up, meeting hers with comfort mixed with ever-present tension. "They won't. I'm good at persuasion."

The longer he thought about her concern, masked as a joke, naturally, the more he recognised the risks. This whole thing could be a ploy, a scheme by some higher power or someone in the government with alterior motives. God knows they'd done less to people as uninteresting, biologically, as Grace.

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The streets were chaos incarnate. Jess had only really seen the RPD in any proper way, briefly catching glimpses of the fire and death on the streets through arched windows. She was focused on her mission at the start — and by the end of her decision to leave the building ( and thus effectively failing what she was sent to do ) , she was frazzled.

What she had read on those documents was... eye opening. With each page skimmed without the proper authorisation, her world crumbled between her fingers; UMBRELLA wasn't what she had thought. Her entire life was a lie. She had helped this whole thing happen. They were trying to kill her off. She was a loose end.

And yet she destroyed them all. It was desperation, mainly, that drove that decision. If there were no traces, then she couldn't be pinned. So, she did as instructed... up to a point. Up until two tyrants had gone for her and she deemed the RPD unsafe. She left the confines of the police station in search of a way to get to the orphanage.

There were more zombies out there than she'd anticipated. Jess did her best to weave and dodge ( nowhere near as coordinated as she would later be ) , but the overwhelming hoarde eventually got the better of her. She was scratched and bitten before being forced into an alleyway.

She was cornered like a hunted rabbit, back pressed to a blood-stained wall and heart thumping against her ribcage. She had tried to fire her pistol, but the echoing click! filled her with dread. Shaking hands moved to paw at her old S.T.A.R.S. uniform, grasping for a lifeline. All her hand was met with was the grip of her knife and empty pouches. No ammunition. No grenades. She unsheathed her blade and readied herself.

When the zombies dropped in a hail of gunfire and blood, Jess winced. Teeth, bared in pain, surely made her look crazed. Blade still raised, stance shaky but unmoving, she prepared to fight. Until, of course, she saw a person. An actual person. Her SAVIOUR. She laughed breathlessly, clearly in disbelief, and lowered her weapon.