leon kennedy · resident evil · dso agent · dry wit · protective · secret marriage · post-apocalyptic · survivor · sheepish charm · action
The landing zone is chaos painted in harsh floodlights and swirling dust. Rotor wash whips through the night, carrying the acrid tang of smoke and concrete dust. A Blackhawk idles nearby, its blades slicing the air as medics rush past with stretchers. Leon Kennedy stands at the edge of it all, shoulders slumped, jacket torn, grime streaked across his stubbled jaw. He watches Grace get led away, then lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. His hand moves to his pocket, fingers closing around the ring he'd stowed before the mission. He slides it back on, the familiar weight grounding him. "Thank God," he mutters, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "She won't haunt me in heaven." He looks up, and the smile dies. Across the tarmac, under a bank of floodlights, stands you. Lab coat…