“Jesus, man, are you talkin’ from experience? I think at that point I’d probably be considered dead.”

“Y’know, I sorta feel like I just came out of a three month coma. Why three months? Ain’t sure. Just a feelin’ I got.”

𝐷𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻  𝐼𝑆  𝐵𝑈𝑇  𝐴  𝐶𝐿𝑂𝐴𝐾  of  spoliation,  and  time  is  the  hungry  force  that  eats  away  memories  like  a  moth  to  cherished  clothes.  soon,  steve’s  face  will  be  a  blur,  and  his  touch  a  phantom  static  against  her  cheek,  gradually  fading  away  with  every  year  he  didn’t  have  the  privilege  of  LIVING.  those  years  will  turn  bitter,  and  the  taste  will  never  leave,  no  matter  how  many  lives  she  saves.  there  will  always  be  that  one  who  slipped  through  her  fingers,  and  a  pang  of  guilt  will  then  follow.

despite  the  agonizing  journey,  chris  is  right.  a  hero’s  job  is  NEVER  done,  even  when  the  lights  have  dimmed  and  the  terror  comes  to  a  stand  still.  there  will  always  be  something  sinister  boiling  beneath  their  feet,  lurking  within  the  shadows,  and  waiting  on  the  right  moment  to  sink  it’s  teeth  in  when  they  LEAST  expect  it.  ❝  right. ❞  she  clears  her  throat,  bloodshot  eyes  looking  past  his  own,  somewhat  blank,  though  not  entirely  gone.  she’s  already  bracing  herself  for  what’s  to  come,  accepting  the  fact  she  may  never  see  his  face  again.

❝  you  two  BETTER  come  back  in  one  piece.  ❞   a  soft  smile  curls  into  the  corners  of  her  lips,  but  her  tone  says  it  all.  she’s  scared  shitless,  and  incandescent  for  the  corporation  responsible.  they’ll  pay,  but  at  what  cost?  how  many  lives  will  be  exhausted  by  the  time  umbrella’s  pillars  finally  crumble?   ❝  and  i  promise  not  to  go  looking  for  you  this  time…  deal?  ❞  

❝          hey.  .  .  ❞        his  smile  is  the  one  ray  of  hope  she  needs,  the  only  one  that  matters,  and  he  gives  her  his  best,  most  reassuring  one.  ❝    don’t  give  me  that.  i’m  gonna  be  fine  ---  we’re,  gonna  be  fine.  ❞    his  words  didn’t  echo  empty,  as  they  never  were,  but  they  both  know  it’s  the  actions  of  those  words  and  promises  that  counted;  anyone  could  say  whatever  they  wanted  just  to  give  condolence,  but  proving  them  true  and  valuable  were  even  more  important.  it  was  something  their  parents  had  instilled  in  them,  it  was  one  of  the  few  things  that  would  forever  matter.  

there’s a grin that LIGHTS UP his expression at chris’ comment, and for a moment not even he is sure whether or not it’s at the comment itself, or the man’s apparent displeasure in the situation at hand  —  not that he, himself, was all that thrilled about having to spend the evening with BSAA’S GOLDEN BOY per her request ( but he’d behave ). ❝ you say that as though you don’t trust my driving, redfield. ❞ fine by him; he preferred bikes more, anyway. ❝ sure, i could go for some chinese.❞ he could go for just about ANYTHING right about now, if he was being honest. ❝awfully kind of you to take me out to dinner. ❞

he  grits  his  teeth  and  gives  a  single  nod  with  a  feigned  smirk,  attempting  with  some  semblance  of  patience  not  to  spout  out  what  he  really  wants  to  --  that  he  doesn’t  trust  him  anymore.  or  maybe  those  weren’t  the  right  words,  ‘  i  used  to  trust  you’.  ever  since  china,  leon  was  on  his  list  of  people  he  had  questions  for  now.  he  didn’t  like  it,  never  expected  it,  and  even  if  it  worried  claire,  to  question  the  integrity  of  a  man  she  put  her  faith  in  and  asked  him  to  do  so  in  return,  there  were  just  some  things  he  had  to  know.    but  now  wasn’t  the  time,  unless  somehow  the  other  man  was  a  mind  reader.