FOOL → leon kennedy ✔

chapter one

CHAPTER ONE
lucina davey, fbi.

...

Lucky woke up immediately. She was laying halfway over the control-pad, with all sorts of buttons being pushed underneath her. Good thing the helicopter was, you know, destroyed.

With a groan, she secured her hands under her body and struggled up into a sitting position. Broken glass poked her skin and clothes, but she tried to ignore it as she tried to determine where she was. It was hard to tell from inside the helicopter, but it looked like a hallway stretched on either side.

"Ah, and we lived. Great." She mumbled, then swiped her hair from her face. Lucky leant on the pilot's seat and tried to pull her legs out from under the co-pilot's hunched body. His body shifted as she moved her feet and her body jolted. Now she was panicking because the thought that she was surrounded by dead people finally got to her, so she tore her feet out, kicking as she did so, and scrambled into the back of the helicopter.

Lucky had definitely hurt her leg in the crash, which only became apparent as she drug herself to the back seats of the fallen aircraft. The corners of her vision darkened and she cried out in pain, but she forced herself to sit up. Lucky found the source of her pain-- a deep cut running down her leg, which was dripping blood onto the helicopter's seats.

Smoke was starting to fill the cockpit and she was suddenly very aware that she was going to die. The crash didn't kill her, but the following explosion would.

"Shit. Davey to Command, do you read?" She pressed the earpiece. There was no answer. "Command? Do you read? Ah, fuck." Lucky tore the earpiece off and dropped her head against the window. Breathing was becoming more of a challenge, and everything was a lot warmer. She felt the fire picking up in intensity and she knew that if she didn't get out fast, she'd be toast.

Lucky sat herself up and began to thrust her shoulder against the door, while simultaneously fighting with the door handle. To her dismay, though, the door didn't budge.

"Okay... damn. Come on, Lucky. Think." Despite the fact that it was obviously stuck, she continued to push against the door. Panic now settled in her head and she sat back

Outside, she saw a figure round the corner, then stop short. She couldn't see him clearly from her spot in the smoke filled cockpit, but she took a leap of faith and called out. If he was one of the monsters... well, she was dead anyway.

"Help! Help me-- I'm in here!" She forced herself to sit back up, as a string of coughs followed her words. The stranger barely even took time to register her words before he leapt into the fray.

The door was yanked open and fresh air followed. "Hurry! Come here, I'll get you out." He held his hands out. The "RPD" scrawled across his chest told Lucky to trust him-- it was that or be blown to smithereens. She bit back her pain as she lurched forward and grabbed his hand. She was yanked from the helicopter like she weighed nothing.

They both tumbled backwards and rolled a few feet away from the wreckage, then scrambled a few more feet just to be sure. Lucky fell back on her elbows, taking in a breath that didn't smell like blood and smoke. Or, less so, at least.

She coughed once more, then titled her head back. "Ah... holy shit. Thanks, pretty boy."

"Are you okay?" He asked. Not "who are you" or "what are you doin' in my swamp". Lucky smiled.