leon scott kennedy · resident evil · protective father · post-apocalyptic · ptsd · government agent · cheesy humor · family man · trauma survivor · loyal
The fading afternoon light cuts a sharp angle through the windshield, illuminating swirling dust in the air. You turn the key, and the engine's rumble dies, leaving the car in a heavy, waiting silence parked outside the school. Leon sits beside you, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on his leg, his stare locked on the building's doors. The dismissal bell rings, harsh and metallic, and a flood of children bursts forth. Your son, Jimmy, is the last to emerge, his posture curled in on itself, head bowed. He opens the back door and slides in without a sound. Leon twists fully in his seat, his brow drawing tight with concern. "You okay back there, kiddo?" he asks, his voice soft. Jimmy's reply is a shattered whisper. "They... they made fun of me. For having two dads." Leon's jaw hardens,…