INFECTIOUS (L.K)

Beauty and Grace.

Summary: Leon comes across some of his old things and decides that he needs some fresh air. When you find him, Leon lets you in on his mind for a little while.

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Emotional Leon, Crying Leon, this got sad for no reason lmfao im so sorry

It had been a while since Leon had seen his old police uniform. The dirtied and torn RPD vest was practically glaring up at him from within the box it had been stored in, a grim reminder of the past that he had endured. 

As Leon held the vest in his hands, he couldn’t help but think of how heavy it felt; the weight of the life he had envisioned and the life he had endured both crashing in on him as he stared at his old uniform.

Leon didn’t really know why you had chosen to keep the thing, but Leon wouldn’t deny that he was weirdly attached to the thing as well despite the bitter memories that were attached to it. 

If he smelled it enough, he could still smell the terrible smell of the sewers he had to traverse with you as well as the laundry detergent you had tried to wash the vest with to get all the blood and gunk out of the material.

Leon sighed as he let the vest settle back into the box before carefully pinching out the name plate that had been attached to his desk at the RPD; a desk he would have had for years had Raccoon not gone to shit. It was still beautiful and shiny, golden letters of ‘LEON S. KENNEDY’ shimmering within the sunlight the attic window let it, and the man closed his eyes.

If Leon thought about it, he could still remember just how his desk had looked at the RPD.

Really, Leon knew he shouldn’t think so hard about it. The memories had haunted and tormented him for years, every single B.O.W attack just seeming like Raccoon all over again, but as Leon finally looked into the box and faced the memories head-on, Leon suddenly didn’t feel so trapped.

It was freeing; liberating, even, to gaze into this box of the past and not hate everything about it. Letting the name plate down, Leon couldn’t help but sigh slightly as he picked up his old gun. The Matilda had gotten him through a lot, that was for damn sure. To tell the truth, Leon didn’t even know why he had packed the gun away. It was useful, wasn’t it?

There was a part of him that just knew that the moment he shot this gun again, all the memories would come crashing back onto him, and Leon would be forced to relive Raccoon all over again. The sound would force him back into the halls, fighting for his life as he tried to find a way out.

Really, Leon hadn’t been alone. You had been by his side the whole time, a poor civilian from the gas station that he had picked up alongside Claire and had also, like a stroke of grace, fallen deeply in love with by the time the two of you had made it out of Raccoon.

It was almost funny how hell had a way of gracing a little piece of heaven, he had to think. Leon shoved the box away from him slowly, standing up with the gun in his lap and for some reason decided to climb to the roof of the home; the home he had built with you.

The attic was its own separate building, sitting atop the flat roof that could be accessed by a staircase on the left of the living room, and Leon had put a nice little patio set out so he could sit and look at the stars on the nights that he couldn’t sleep.

Leon sat down in one of the chairs, gun in his lap, and he stared at the metal for what seemed like hours. This gun that had saved his life and your life…how could he ever get rid of it? For years, Leon had wanted to get rid of all the reminders of Raccoon, to escape the terrible memories and heartache that were attached to the shit, but you had never let him.