SAVEGUARD ⟼ leon s. kennedy

lxii. struggle to breathe

18+ chapter. minors please don't interact!!!

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ｌｅｏｎ

By some total utter miracle, they manage to find a train station just at the outskirts of Tall Oaks, that is still operating its usual route.

They just need to catch a train that'll take them to San Francisco, away from this hellhole, where Hunnigan assures them is still safe.

From there, an air force pilot will take them to China.

Leon is not the type of man that enjoys asking anything of anyone. He doesn't like knowing he's in debt to a person. He doesn't want to make people think of him as a burden.

But this time, it was worse than that.

Because the only person that had the resources to help him out in this way right now is Ashley Graham.

Daughter of the president who has been reported dead.

But true to her word, she had pulled some strings. A lot of strings. And now, Leon has a pilot who is sworn to secrecy, personally chosen by Ashley, and a route that can take them to the American embassy in China—where he's hoping against hope that Simmons is located.

The train ride is supposed to take over seven hours. He can't lie to himself and pretend he doesn't need the break.

Physically, he's doing fine. The adrenaline is quickly draining out of his nervous system, as it always does when he has some down time. He's still on alert, but not to the point where has to limit his conversations or his thoughts or his breathing.

He checks his pulse quickly and adjusts his breathing, needing his stress levels to decrease even more. Long enough for this headache to stop splitting his skull in half, long enough to ease the knot of worry on his stomach.

Leon looks at his reflection in the train's window. His usually well-kept hair is dishevelled, slicked backwards from all the times he ran his fingers through it while thinking. He ruffles it, but decides against, leaving it the way it was.

He realises he can let his shoulders sag a little, which he does, as he slumps down on the train seat, watching you as you slide the compartment door closed behind you.

His mood instantly lifts as he sees your face, the curves of your body, the sound of your movements.

Despite everything, he's happy that he's here, in the middle of the constant, never-ending shitshow, with you.

This train is one of those luxury bullet trains. Leon is beyond confused at to why and how it is still in operation, when half the town is dead or zombified. Sleek, modern, clean and fully stocked, it's the ultimate repose for now. Each compartment looks like a small airBNB room, with seats wide enough to sleep on, a small mini-bar, cupholders, cushions, curtains, a door that locks, and footrests.

Helena had opted to take the compartment adjacent to this one, so she can sleep. He didn't deny her request—not that he could—because he wanted nothing more than to be alone with you, right now, right here.

He can feel the tiredness seeping into his muscles and bones as his adrenaline finally escapes him. He feels the panic set in, the anxiety of what is actually happening: acting on a limb and flying to another country, another continent. There is no proof Simmons is actually there.