Chapter Text
“You drunk enough yet?”
Leon barely had to look up to know it is the bartender addressing him, he swirls his drink absently, the scotch has negligible effect to drown out the noises in his head. It mattered little to Leon, hardly anything could numb him up these days.
He thinks it is the stint of alcoholism he underwent in his thirties that caused his tolerance to skyrocket but, in the end, he is not sure, nor does he care.
He responds, voice cold, he was not in the mood for jabs and quips today. “If I was drunk enough, I certainly wouldn’t be talking to you.”
The bartender only sighs and walks away, and Leon is alone.
As always.
Sharp blue eyes now observe the bar, he sees a couple of college kids chatting and drinking, couples mingling and laughing amongst themselves.
He looks to his right, and he sees a couple of uniformed officers laughing and toasting to each other.
“Here’s to our new rookie!” One of them says jovially, aggressively shaking the trainee’s hair who only laughs shyly at the attention.
Leon squeezes his glass tight and drinks, eyes darting away from the scene.
A life he could have had, now gone.
He really isn’t drunk enough for this.
Leon looks at his watch, a gift from Claire a few months back, her signature wings engraved delicately against the metal. Another person Leon had broken contact with over the past few years, their interactions sporadic and businesslike, an undercurrent of tension and resentment.
It was the same with his other relations too, Chris, Jill, Hunnigan…The only one who wasn’t tired of his ongoing periods of non-contact was Sherry and that was because she had refused to leave Leon alone, hauling his ass back to his apartment more often than not.
Leon figured Sherry thought she owed some sort of gratitude to Leon, and the thought made him scoff.
He had not done shit, the blistering black marks on her hands proved his point, how she would obscure them with her gloves, forced to put her wedding ring on her pinkie when Jake was not looking because the metal burned and itched at her rotting flesh.
Leon sighed, placing his drink down on the table, hands running across his eyes tiredly. He looks at the time, five past seven.
‘Too early’ Leon thinks, he reckons he could stop at Sherry’s then, check up on her, do some more digging into the deaths of the Raccoon City survivors that have been popping up, the DSO already equipping him like a bloodhound for a new hunt.
He would do as they say, what other purpose did he serve? But he reckons he is doing it for Sherry too, Leon believes it is what she deserves after a lifetime of struggle and pain.
He ignores the sudden pulsing agony at the back of his hand, the leather of his glove rubbing painfully at his rotting flesh.
‘One more drink’ Leon thinks ‘to drown out the pain before work.’ Leon knew he would not get drunk, a conniving, internal excuse to keep to his vices, to escape the pain before he set off on another job, another mission.
‘Maybe it’s the one that’ll finish me off.’ Leon thinks to himself, amused.
“…Um excuse me?”
Leon pauses, and places his drink down, his frame casually swerving to meet the gaze of whoever had addressed him.
The first thing Leon notices is that it is a young woman, unsure and hesitant, blonde hair a tangled array, from the pouring rain outside.
‘Nervous,’ Leon surmises, ‘But why?’
“Hi, can I help you?” Leon asks gruffly, he was hardly in the mood to converse with another, much preferring to get buzzed out of his mind.
The woman merely fiddles nervously, feet shifting before she seems to brace herself. Leon notices she has a slight stutter in her words, perhaps due to anxiety or some sort of speech impediment.
“Um do…do you mind if I sit here? It’s quieter and...” Leon notices how her eyes dart to the side, nervous and fearful. He follows her gaze which leads to a group of young men making raucous noise and being so obnoxiously loud it made Leon’s ears ring.
‘Ah so she needs a bodyguard’ Leon surmises and he suddenly feels a little regretful being so blasé towards her.
He looks at her again, she was young, Leon could see that she was nicely dressed in a suit underneath her raincoat, she had kind eyes, albeit with a nervous gaze, platinum blonde locks framing her face.
Overall, someone completely normal, perhaps unassuming.
Leon nods, noticing in his periphery some of the men glancing between him and the woman, now muttering in frustration.
Leon gestures to the chair. “Be my guest Miss…?
“Ashcroft – Grace Ashcroft.” She finishes, quickly, nervously but her smile is appreciative and relieved.
She takes a seat beside him, cautiously and almost hesitantly opening her large purse to draw out her laptop, movements stiff as if she were afraid to make noise.
Leon suddenly feels a sense of guilt burrowed in his chest, it’s clear that he’s made her uncomfortable. He turns to her, voice soft, watching as she begins to type away.
“So, what do you do for a living?” The woman, Grace seems to freeze slightly at being addressed before she responds, smile shy, gently tucking strands of damp blonde locks behind her ears.
“Oh um, I- I’m a data analyst, for the FBI.”
Leon nods, slightly surprised at the revelation, he tries not to think of when he first met Ada, her false badge flashing, confident and poised.
“Ada Wong, FBI.”
He blinks away the memory which is now murky and strained in his mind. It had been over 20 years since he had seen Ada, he remembers her voice the most, but her appearance was beginning to become lost to him, the memories slowly slipping away as the years passed.
‘It’s not like Ada was even her name anyway.’ Leon thinks, taking another swing of his drink, the contents yet again having little effect.
“FBI huh?” Leon replies, voice contemplative, “I mean forgive me for asking but you don’t seem like the type to go to a bar to do your analytical work…unless you want a change of scenery?”
Grace chuckles, hands rubbing at the back of her neck nervously.
“No um not at all, I had to get my report done a-and because of the rain my train’s cancelled so...” she trails off and shrugs.
Leon just nods, he has never had to worry about things like paperwork and reports. He thinks in another lifetime if he were able to carry on as a cop that it would be something he would understand.
‘I understand deadlines I guess, just in an entirely different way.’ Leon thinks, mind flashing to his missions, saving Ashley, stopping Umbrella, his time as a rookie when he was too late to do anything, people dying and he always came too late…
He grimaces when he notices his glass is empty, he raises it as a mocking toast to the bartender.
“Another please good sir.” He ignores the bartender rolling his eyes but complying, ignores the chatter surrounding him, the feeling of kind innocent eyes gazing at him worryingly.
Leon does not understand her concern; he isn’t even buzzed yet.
“Urm are you okay?” Grace asks worried as she watches him taking a swing of his drink.
Leon chuckles, enjoying the burn of the alcohol down his throat, “just peachy why?”
He sees Grace play with the end of her jacket, her response slightly frayed but with an edge of determination.
“W-well I just noticed this is your fourth glass so I’m just wondering if something’s on your mind?”
Leon sighs, he feels slightly guilty at her worry although he is unsure why, maybe he thinks it’s because she’s worried he might become too drunk to become coherent, too stuck in his vices and become violent.
He had seen her fear at those other men, voices slurred and gait wobbly as they addressed Grace lustfully, as if she were nothing more than an object to them.
Leon feels a righteous surge of anger before he forces himself to shift the tone of their conversation, voice now taking on a teasing lilt.
“Hmm save those analysing skills for the paperwork rather than me.”
He watches slightly amused as Grace blushes in embarrassment, voice taking on a tone of mortification.
“O-oh god, no I-I’m so, so sorry I mean that I-I...”
Leon can’t help but chuckle, hands lifted up in a placating gesture. “I’m just teasing Grace.”
Grace’s horror seems to settle but the blush remains on her face, a splash of a rosy, red against the apples of her cheeks.
Leon still amused, shifts the tone of the conversation again, he feels slightly bad for Grace’s predicament.
“So what are you working on then? Must be urgent if you feel the need to do it at a bar rather than at home…of course if it’s classified you don’t need to tell me.” He adds.
Grace just sighs in amusement but her voice now weary and fatigued. Leon could only sympathise, he knew the feeling of bone deep tiredness and exhaustion as well. Had experienced it through both the trenches and recoveries of missions, his mind sinking into himself.
“No nothing classified don’t worry, you’ve u-um probably heard it on the news, you know Raccoon City survivors showing up dead.”
Leon pauses, mind slowly becoming dazed with alcohol suddenly alert. He places his glass down on the counter, his entire body shifting to face Grace.
“Raccoon City? The FBI are looking into it?”
Grace who seems a little taken aback by his sudden intensity but to her credit, she still responds.
“Uh y-yeah, I mean it’s nothing major right now, b-but it’s something I’ve been personally assigned to so…”
‘Personally?’ Leon thinks, ‘but why? Does she have some sort of connection to the city? To the victims?’
He brings out his badge, his gloved hand now outreached in a greeting gesture which Grace responds to, her small hand slightly shaking in his larger one.
“My name is Leon Kennedy, I’m a DSO.”
Grace pauses, as if the metaphorical cogs in her head are turning as he continues to talk.
“DSO? T-that’s the um...the Division of Security Operations right?”
He nods, before looking around. ‘Too many people and too many ears.’ Leon thinks warily, he rises, Grace quickly does the same, hastily folding her laptop into her bag.
“Follow me, it’s best we talk in private.” Leon hastily shoves a few notes for the bartender, a tip of gratitude.
“Put it on my tab.” Leon says to the bartender, walking out of the bar, Grace following quickly in tow.
***
Leon ignored the heavy rain coating his arms and legs as he manoeuvred around the streets, bypassing rubbing shoulders and pick-pocketers as he walked towards his car. Despite Grace behind him, he ensured she remained in his eye of sight, her blonde hair soaked, strands stuck to her forehead, her clothes drenched from the rain.
Yet Leon noted that Grace still persisted, her movements determined as she followed closely behind him.
“Get in.” Leon said, gesturing to his car, already moving to hold open the door for her, “we’ll be safe talking in here.”
Grace seemed to pause for a moment, expression hesitant and it took a moment for Leon to understand. He after all was a stranger, asking a young woman to get in his car.
‘Not at all suspicious Kennedy’ Leon thought sardonically, slightly perturbed he hadn’t clued in on the connotation of his actions.
“Hey.” Leon raised his hand in a placating gesture, expression somewhat embarrassed at his shortcoming. “I know it’s a weird proposal, but we really need to talk about what we discussed in the bar…I think we could help each other.”
It was silent for a few moments, Leon noticed how Grace’s eyes sharpened, light grey eyes brightening as she analysed the situation in front of her.
‘I suppose she’s not an analyst for nothing’ Leon thought. He watched Grace for a few more moments, breath held as he waited for a response, hand gripped against the open car door, the sound of the rain seemed louder in their silence, more thunderous, the pelts of droplets landing heavy against his face.
Finally, Grace responded, nodded and determined.
“I trust you.”
Leon nodded, appreciative and relieved, now fulling opening the door to the Porsche. Grace smiled at him appreciatively at the gesture, stepping inside before entering the vehicle himself. The slight warmth of the car providing a comfort to the severity of the frigid rain outside.
As he revved the engine, he addressed Grace, tone firm but determined. “There’s a lot about Raccoon City that the public don’t know about, nor will they ever.” He paused but continued, Raccoon City was always a festering can of worms in Leon’s mind, a place destroyed and eviscerated but simultaneously inescapable.
“We think it’s connected to Umbrella’s activities.”
To Leon’s shock and admiration Grace managed to remain calm but her expression was both contemplative but fearful. She addressed Leon, voce quiet, her eyes never leaving the road.
“Umbrella?” Grace muttered, “b-but do they still even exist? I thought they went under decades ago?”
Leon nodded, hands now at the steering wheel as he drove, he could hear Grace’s teeth chattering beside him, perhaps out of the cold or maybe even fear.
Leon pressed the button for the seat warmer, hoping to provide her some solace, however minimal it was from this situation. Leon continued, eyes remaining on the road as he addressed Grace.
“Yep, they do and unfortunately they’re still a problem for us all.” He briefly turned to Grace watching her eyes dilate in fear, her posture tense.
“We’re doing everything we can to find answers Grace, and your involvement and skills in analytics may help us, I’m taking you back to our base and we can talk more there.”
Grace looked at him and nodded before turning towards the window. Leon thought she now looked more contemplative than fearful, the imaginary cogs in her head one again turning at his revelations.
The rest of the trip was driven in silence as they both made their way towards Leon's secured base of operations.