#derek c simmons

[saphirdevil]

happy birthday ada wong

[mychoombatheroomba]

An Eye for An Eye

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 54

Leon and the squad grapple with the weight of their loss while you learn what you mysterious ally has given you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

“You look like shit.”

Valeria had never been one to mince words. Whatever else had changed in the last week, that had remained the same. At least something had. 

Leon wasn’t sure he wanted the company. He had gone outside to escape the droning fluorescent lights and ever-present eyes inside the CIA facility. He’d gone out to be where his thoughts could have a quiet place to wage their war. His friends should have brought him comfort. 

He hated that they didn’t. 

“Don’t worry, I feel worse.” His response was dry as his friend leaned against the wall beside him, sliding down to sit at his level. She hummed what might have been a laugh, once. Now, the sound was muted. A gray tone where once there had been vibrant color. 

Leon could sympathize. 

“Good to know we’re all in the same boat.” Dina lowered herself onto the ground at Valeria’s side, the three of them looking out towards the dimming sky. 

The shorter of the two women scoffed, shaking her head. “Can’t fucking sleep. Every time I close my eyes, it’s just . . .” 

She didn’t need to say it. Leon knew. Maybe that was why they’d sought him out. Maybe they hoped he’d have some advice. Some secret to help them through it all. As if he hadn’t been cursed with this for months now. Just when he’d thought he might finally be free of it-

“You guys hear the official story?” 

Leon turned his head towards Dina, who looked up at the sky like she had a bone to pick with whoever was up there. He knew what she was talking about without having to ask. The base. How the Army would spin so many lives lost all at once. 

“They, uh . . . they’re saying it was a fire that got out of control. Someone smoking without authorization. Summer heat, dry brush . . . fwoosh .” She motioned with her hands, then let out an empty laugh. “Probably easier that way. Don’t have to send home any bodies if they’re all ash.”

A fire. The same excuse used for Dorne base. More lies. More deaths kept hidden. 

It was a bad joke.  

“You know, they put all this money into this,” Dina droned, shaking her head, “training us to fight monsters, teaching us to spy and shoot and whatever else. And then none of it fuckin’ matters.” 

“It’ll matter,” Leon shook his head, surprising himself. He sounded like you. Like you used to, before everything had crashed down around you all. He just wished he believed the words more. “It’s gotta mean something.” His life hadn’t been torn open and rearranged for no reason. You hadn’t been made to relive the worst night of your life for nothing. He had to believe that. 

“I don’t think any of this means anything,” Williams shook her head, digging her heels into the dirt and pushing her legs out in front of her. “I don’t think watching your friends kill each other has some greater purpose behind it.” 

“Dina,” Valeria spoke, her voice softer than Leon had ever heard it, “he wanted to go out on his own terms.” 

It didn’t matter how right she was, though. The words, the memory of you lowering that gun, of that look of nothingness in your eyes, and a pool of crimson framing Logan’s head . . .

“Shouldn’t have had to, though,” Dina shook her head. “He should be right here, telling us some stupid shit about tanks, or singing fuckin’ Journey.” 

The world blurred a bit, as tears stung at Leon’s eyes. He clenched his jaw tight. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let it out, or he’d crumble. These last few days, he’d learned very quickly in the solitude of his room that once he started down that path, there wasn’t much that could stop it. 

None of this should have happened. Leon almost spoke it aloud with a bitter laugh, feeling his heart beating at a faster pace. His mind running in desperate circles, trying to escape the thoughts that nipped at its heels. None of this should be like this. 

All the wishing in the world wouldn’t change it, though. 

“But he isn’t.” That was all Leon could manage to say. 

Dina shook her head, her mouth pressed in a thin line. “But he isn’t.” 

Silence blanketed them for a few long seconds, before the covers were torn off again. 

“Sarge said anything about it?” 

The question was meant for Leon. Who else? He was the one you spoke to most, before. If you would have said anything, it would have been to him. Should have been to him. As it was . . .

“No.” He couldn’t decide if he wished you had or not. 

Dina didn’t look like she could decide, either. She bit at the inside of her mouth, shaking her head. “I know why it had to happen . . .” she said, nodding like she was trying to convince herself of it even now; that you putting a bullet in her friend’s head was the right thing to do. That it was mercy. “I just . . .” she just couldn’t fathom it. 

Leon nodded in turn. “Yeah. I know.” 

There was only so much rationalizing one could do. Only so many times a person could tell themselves that it had to be done. Leon knew he would either be broken by that fact or become numb to it. He wasn’t sure which one he dreaded more. 

Nor was he able to dwell on it for long, before a figure approached, winding around the edge of the building. Leon and his companions looked up just in time to see a guard there, his face pulled into a tight expression. Leon didn’t even get to ask what brought him there before the guard spoke, gesturing for them all to stand. 

“Everyone needs to come with me. Now.” 

He didn’t hide it very well - the worry in his voice. The urgency. 

“What happened?” Valeria asked, her eyes suddenly sharpening as she picked up on the new energy brought to the moment. 

There was no real answer given, only a sense of looming dread as they were ushered back to their rooms. A sense of dread that was becoming all too familiar to Leon. 

⧫⧫⧫

Fate hadn’t given you many of the things that you’d hoped for. 

In fact, lately, it felt like life had been gorging itself on you, rather than practicing charity. What it had given, you found, had only led to hurt. Or it surely would. This would be no different. The gift you’d just been given would bring pain, but it was the kind you would gladly endure. You wouldn’t refuse something you craved with all your being - that you had paid for in blood and bruises and a breaking spirit. You gave in to a dark faith that now, finally, fate had thrown you a goddamn bone. 

Not all those around you shared that sentiment.

Including you, there were five in the room - a room that was completely sealed off from the rest of the world. Simmons watched the room from the edges of it, twisting the gold ring on his thumb while he focused. Hellman and Benford were more focused on the computer screen in front of them. As for the fifth . . . you could never remember feeling so much weight behind Major Krauser’s gaze. He’d done a poor job of hiding his concern when you and Hellman explained what had happened. That concern had so quickly turned to rage, and you had wished you could return to being blind to the cause of it all. Things had been less complicated, then. 

You wished a lot of things could go back to the way they had been. 

But with no way to go but forward, you set your focus to the information in front of you. A hound being given a scent. 

“I don’t like this.” Benford shook his head, the computer screen in front of him reflected in his glasses.  

The images on it, the text . . . 

Coordinates. Overhead images of an island - Kolguyev, it read. A sizable but mostly unoccupied piece of land in the Barents Sea. Russia. The island itself had a small town on one side, and on the other, a fenced perimeter. Four buildings were tucked in, surrounded by more open expanses of land. Ranges, you realized. You could see vehicles, even what looked like a tank, and well-carved pathways for them to use. It was a familiar layout even if you’d never seen the island before - you’d spent the last several months in places just like this, after all.

“It’s a training facility,” you breathed, your voice raspy. Crushed down to size by the man’s hand around your throat. A man who, it seemed, had given you a target. 

It was all but confirmed when Benford scrolled down, and names and faces you didn’t recognize passed the screen. Service records, you realized, though not for any one country’s military. No, they were unified under a different banner. 

𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎

𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢

That was not surprising. Instead, what caught your eye was not who they served, but where they’d come from. 

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙺𝚘𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚎𝚟 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

Benford leaned back in his chair, his mouth set in a thin line. 

His silence only served to fuel your anger. You weren’t alone in that. 

“You said Reed was heading to Russia?” Krauser sounded just as viciously pleased as you were. It only made the senior agent at the computer more uncomfortable. 

Benford nodded. Once. Reluctantly. “But there are Umbrella facilities all over the world. We don’t know-”

“We don’t have to know.” You straightened up, feeling something rise in you. Potential energy, the need to do something. And now, you’d been given a heading. “If this is a training facility, then we can start to level the playing field.” You could take from them what they’d taken from you: their future. And if Reed was there, then you could kill him. You could show him the failure of his cause as he died and-

“The risk is too high,” Benford shook his head. “Not when we have so little concrete information.”

“But you can get more information.” Krauser sounded almost as certain as you were, tearing open holes in Benford’s argument. 

He’d taught you to press the offensive, so you did. “You wanted to fight Umbrella. You trained us to do that, and now what? You’re too scared to use the weapons you built?” You met Benford’s eyes, and felt some little satisfaction when you saw him waver under your stare.  

His response was measured, even so. “It’s not that simple, Sergeant. It’s how we were given this information that concerns me.” 

“You mean the man who broke your perimeter like it was made of tissue paper?” Krauser’s words bit hard into their target, as they so often did. 

Benford just turned the attack into more ammunition. “Exactly. This man broke into our facility without issue. He overpowered you and Hellman both, and left just as easily. This kind of intel isn’t just given without motive.” 

“Umbrella has enemies besides us,” Simmons pointed out, finally entering the conversation with a cool voice. “Their facility on Rockfort Island was destroyed by a paramilitary organization a few months ago, was it not?” 

So Krauser hadn’t been given all the reports after all, because that name didn’t sound familiar to you. By his reaction now, it wasn’t because the Major had omitted any information when it came to you.

“It was,” Benford confirmed, “but I would argue that makes this more suspicious. Not less.” 

It was Hellman who spoke next, incredulous. “If Umbrella has an enemy in that man, why is he not the one storming Kolguyev?” There was something to that, you supposed. He’d crushed a knife blade in his hand. Lifted you off the ground like you were nothing, and moved with a speed you couldn’t hope to match. Even so, even with all that power, he was handing this off to the likes of you. “He wouldn’t let us take him in for a reason. He’s setting us up to be pawns.” 

“Does it matter?” you found yourself asking, the words not your own. Did it matter whose pawn you were, so long as Umbrella was dealt a blow? 

Benford turned to you, already-present frown lines deepening. “There’s a good chance that this is a trap. If this is a training outpost, there will be soldiers there-”

Fire rushed through you, your gaze turned to a branding iron. “I’m counting on it.” 

A laugh followed your declaration, and Simmons pushed off the wall. Satisfaction curled his lips into a smile. “ That right there. We need more soldiers like that if we’re to stand a chance against this corporation. Sometimes risks must be taken in a fight such as this one, and we need those who will do what it takes.” 

“So glad you approve,” Krauser snarled under his breath, but the conversation went on as if he’d said nothing.

Benford snapped his attention to his fellow agent, then. “Derek, we don’t have many people who know about this conflict left. If this operation goes wrong, we could lose all of them.” 

It was true. You knew it. This was enemy territory. No reinforcements, no solid intel, nothing to go on but what you held now. And it was worth it, for the exact reasons that Simmons spoke now. “And if this really is a training facility, if more records like these are available there and we got ahold of them,” he pointed his chin towards the screen, “then we could root out Umbrella’s personnel.” 

People like Reed. People like the man who’d driven a knife into your gut, and the team that had been with him. If there was a chance you could find them - track them down . . . 

“So send me.” The room turned towards Krauser, the Major pulling attention with his declaration. One forged in iron. One that embedded itself in your gut.

“By yourself, Major?” Simmons asked. The bastard had a talent for sounding patronizing, one that Krauser didn’t appreciate, if his biting tone was any indication. 

“Benford’s right. You’re down too many men to send them. I’m the most experienced soldier you have who knows about all of this. One man has a better chance of not being spotted than a team.” 

No. You felt a surge of something rise in you at the suggestion, because you knew how that would end. Whatever was happening with Krauser, whatever his feelings for you and however you felt in return, you knew that if he went out there alone, he would likely die. 

That was unacceptable. 

Even so, you stopped yourself from voicing that thought. You stopped yourself because all of the people in this room seemed to think that there was something between you and the Major. Something you couldn’t give credence to. You had to act as though you didn’t care, as though the man who’d saved your life, who’d given you so much, meant nothing to you. 

So, just like with Alenko, you dug deeper into the hollow of yourself. 

“So,” the Major went on, blue eyes boring into Benford’s own, “send me.” 

The most horrifying part was that the men around you considered it. You could see them making the mental calculations. Better to lose one man than an entire squad, that was the brutal calculus of it. One that you couldn’t exactly argue.

“No.” Your focus snapped elsewhere, and you never, ever thought you would be grateful to Hellman of all people. Still, the agent, wielding the guilt you’d buried in his gut, went on. “You’re a good soldier, no one can deny that, but this is about infiltration. Information retrieval. That’s what I’ve been trained for.” 

Krauser scoffed, somehow making a laugh sound dangerous. “You couldn’t even tell that your friend was an Umbrella plant.”

“Neither could you, Major,” Hellman reminded him. “Not until it was too late.”

“You watch your mouth-”

Hellman went on, undeterred. “I’m in the best position to make it right. I can scope things out and see what’s there.” It was an idea that sat with you no better than Krauser going alone. Not because you cared about Hellman’s safety, but because he didn’t deserve this vengeance, as far as you were concerned. 

“Noble of you,” Simmons nodded, still twisting the gold band on his thumb, “but that doesn’t solve the problem of one man not being enough to take down an entire base. A small team could assess the facility covertly and then infiltrate it if need be,” he went on, eyes sharp as he planned. 

“The Umbrella facilities we’re aware of thus far have always been more than they appear on the surface,” Benford pointed out. “There could be more than what’s depicted here. They would be on enemy territory, going in blind, fighting a force they’ve never faced before.” 

“How fortunate then,” Simmons just went on, his fingers twisting his ring while his lips were twisted into a smile to match, “that we have individuals with experience in such matters. Individuals who understand the value of knowing one’s enemy, and will stop at nothing to take the fight to them.” He looked at you, then, with the expression of a man who gambled and won more often than not. A man who didn't mind betting, especially when he wasn't the one who stood to lose. 

You didn’t mind that he was gambling with your life, though. Not so long as you got what you wanted. 

The only trouble was that Simmons wasn’t the only player in this game. 

“I don’t like the idea of sending just the two of them,” Benford said, another opinion added to the mix. One borne of mistrust - that much you could see plainly. You and Hellman were untrustworthy in his eyes, even now. You couldn’t blame him, you supposed; this mysterious man with too much information on Umbrella appeared out of nowhere and gifted you exactly what you needed. Anyone with a brain would find it suspicious. 

You understood that, you truly did. The only trouble was, what you knew was coming next. What you felt in your bones. 

“Kennedy has been inside Umbrella facilities before,” Benford went on, and it was clear to you then that fate had not, in fact, thought you’d paid the price for this gift. No, it demanded ever more. “And they worked well with Soto and Williams. That would keep the team small enough to avoid attention.” 

Your jaw tightened as he spoke their names, eyes going wide, showing off the red that had crept in when your air was cut off. 

But before you even had the chance to speak, Krauser huffed, incredulous. “Then I should go with them.” 

“I would be inclined to agree,�� Simmons took a moment to formulate his counter, “but you and Hellman here are the only two instructors we have left with knowledge of bioweapons.”

“You can just tell someone else. They just destroyed an entire base, it’s not like it’s going to be a secret forever.” 

“The President has made it clear,” Benford said this time, “the fewer people know about all this, the better.” 

It was a losing argument. A fight not worth spilling blood over. That didn’t stop Krauser, though. “You’ve got to be joking,” the Major shook his head, looking between you and Simmons. “You wanna send a bunch of shell-shocked rookies out there? You’ll get them killed.” 

Simmons tilted his head to the side. “Many of these ‘rookies’ have service records before STRATCOM, Major. With the exception of Kennedy, I suppose. Though I would imagine his experience in Raccoon City makes up for that fact.” 

“They’re not ready-”

“Are you implying that your training of them was insufficient?” 

“Damn it, you’ve seen them!” He was talking about the entirety of your squad, but he looked at you. And in that moment, you had a realization: this wasn’t the Major you were used to seeing. In the last few months, he’d been a steadying force for you. A leader you could look to for guidance. Now, in this moment, all you saw was a scared man, clinging to whatever control he had left. Control that he’d given up the moment he gave you those reports. The second he admitted his guilt in doing so. “They’re afraid, and angry, and if you send people like that out there, they’re going to slip up. They’re going to get themselves killed.” 

He’d told you so many times to never show weakness. To never bear your scars and wounds. Now, here he was, doing it without meaning. 

A blunted blade would do them no good. Whether that was Krauser or Leon or you. 

So, no matter how much you wanted to insist that Leon be left behind, that he wasn’t suited to this mission, you knew how that would look. You knew that, to Simmons, that would be blood in the water for him to scent and salivate on. 

Not that it mattered what you or Krauser wanted, anyway. The decision was already being made, you could see it in Simmons’ eyes. 

Leon’s fate and yours, your friends . . . you were all tied together. At least you could spare one person you cared about. He’d saved your life once, after all. You hadn’t expected to return the favor this way. 

You hadn’t expected so many things. 

“You’re angry, sir,” you said, finding your voice again, however hollow it may be. You’d seen many expressions on Krauser’s face that you’d never thought to see, lately. The surprise you were greeted with now, almost like betrayal, was one of them. He wasn’t the only one that had a claim to that betrayal. Still, you carried on, reminding him of a fact he should have known well. “Your judgment would be just as compromised.” 

You’d never been on the receiving end of Major Krauser’s anger, really. Some part of you had hoped to never experience it. When faced with it now, though? You were surprised by how little it affected you. He’d taught you to face down worse though, hadn’t he? 

“My judgment?” He asked, stepping closer. “You want to talk about emotion clouding judgment? All you’ve ever done is let what you’re feeling control you. The only reason you’re here is revenge. That’s it. You want to kill the people who took your Captain. Your friends-” 

“Umbrella didn’t kill them,” you said, your expression blank as you stated the truth that had eaten away at you. The truth that had carved a well in you and taken up residence there. Because as much as Umbrella had turned your friends into monsters, as much as Reed and the man who’d driven a knife into you had done, they hadn’t pulled the trigger on Rain. 

Or Reynolds. 

Or Alenko. 

“I did.” 

Krauser, for once, looked disarmed. He stared at you - him and the other men in the room. Men who had either helped shape you into the dagger you were, or would wield you. 

“I did what I had to do. And I will keep doing that, until Umbrella is buried.” That had been your vow, all those months ago. As you lay in a hospital bed, clutching a dog tag that would be all that remained of the man you considered a father. You’d lost sight of that goal, and the world had reminded you of it now. So, you looked at the computer screen in front of you, at the image of the base there. Your chance, not to make it right, but to strike a blow. “That’s all that matters.” 

And to these men who would be your commanders, who would now dispatch you across the globe, hunting your targets, that was enough. 

⧫⧫⧫

Hours passed, and still there were no answers. No justifications for why everyone had been taken back to their rooms, but it was all too clear to Leon that something had happened. The guards - rigid even on a good day - had been tight-jawed and tense as they’d guided Leon and the others towards their rooms. Something was wrong, because it seemed like something was always wrong, now. 

The only question was: what?

That night, he was allowed to imagine just how wrong things were. By the time their cell doors were opened again, the worst possible scenarios had flooded his mind, memories amplified by a sudden and gruesome abundance of imagination. It didn’t amount to the horrors he feared. There was no attack. No undead. 

All Leon was greeted with was a pair of eyes framed by glasses, set in the aging face of the man who’d ruined his life. “Agent Kennedy, if you’ll come with me, please.” 

Agent Kennedy.

He was an agent now, wasn’t he? He’d passed his final test. He was theirs to send wherever they pleased. 

Him and you, it seemed, because you stood just behind the agent, and you weren’t alone. Hellman, Dina and Valeria were there too, each of them looking like the hangman had called their names. Not you, though. You were stone, as you so often were.

Even with a handprint bruised onto your throat. 

Leon felt sick to his stomach as he saw the mark, the skin on your throat turned a dark purple from the pressure of someone's grasp. He’d worn a bruise to match after Raccoon City, courtesy of the silent monster that had stalked him that night. That had come too close to killing him too many times. 

That handprint had been larger than a human’s hand, though. The one on your throat could have belonged to anyone. Who then? Who had hurt you? Who had done this to you? 

There were no answers to be found from Benford, who simply gestured for Leon to follow, before pausing a moment. “And if you may . . .” he held up his other hand, one that had been clenched at his side. One that, as his fingers uncurled, Leon realized held little plaques. Three sets of two, linked by chains, numbers and letters stamped into the metal. Three sets of two, and one chain that linked three plaques, the name REYNOLDS clear to Leon’s eye, just as your name was. 

Their dog tags. 

Benford was collecting them. 

For a moment, Leon felt fear surge through him. With the group gathered before him, he worried that the feelings present among the group had finally been laid bare. He worried that, at last, their luck had run out and their places in STRATCOM had been taken as punishment. 

As he hesitated, Benford spoke a clarification. One he sounded solemn about. “You’ll get them back when you return.” 

“Return from where?” Leon felt numb even asking the question. 

Benford didn’t look any more pleased as he took a breath in, but Leon saw your expression shift. You didn’t look up from the empty space you stared off into, but your eyes darkened all the same as the agent answered. “I’ll explain elsewhere, but . . . you have a target.”

A target. 

A mission. 

His first. 

And wherever you were all going, your identities couldn’t follow. 

He had little choice, so did as he was told and reached up to his neck. A moment later, his name was pressed down beside yours and those of his friends, hidden from view as Benford closed his fist around them. 

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Chapter Index

Tag List: @greywardensaywhat @torchbearerkyle

[jelybobik]

Why can't you understand my … my love for you?

[citrine-elephant]

does he even know he's flirting

[gigi-does-art]

*Blows him up with my mind* This guy Simmons 😒 Decided to give him a design, since I plan to do some re6 related art so might as well. He was the bane of my existence while I was playing leon’s route but it was so fun just beating him up lmao. I actually ended up really liking the design I gave him, even though I absolutely despise him 😭 If Simmons has no haters, I am dead

Headcanon: His infected forms are at a smaller scale compared to in the games. Like his T-Rex form is instead a crocodile or monitor lizard. His bug form is still just a giant fly though lol

[hipsterteller]

Don't hurt him

“Look at me! Look at me! Everything is going to be alright!!” Lucas says as he tries to comfort his son as Leon is panicking.

Leon had only wore a white t shirt and tight boxer, as he could see a figure behind his father.

How did this happen you asked? Simple...let's take this a while back...shall we?

-while ago-

Chris had to leave for a mission with Piers while Finn is left behind to keep an eye on things along with keeping an eye on Leon's daily routine. But this night...Finn is knocked unconscious.

Leon was awoken when someone broke in by the window at the kitchen, he had quickly hid under the bed and had his phone with him trying to call Ark or anyone who is still awake at the middle of the night.

He could hear footsteps approaching the stairs and door to his and Chris bedroom open and he could see the intruder's legs roaming around.

Before he could call BSAA Headquarters, a hand grab him by the ankle and drag him out, Leon scream is cut off when another hand cover him and his struggle were easily cut short when they sedate him.

He could feel a bag been put over his head and drag him out.

-Now-

Leon finally calms down as Lucas is relief but knew his scarred.

"Leon listen to me, whatever happens just calm down. We can get through this." He said as Leon nodded but notice the figure approaching behind him.

The figure came to the light revealing none other than Derek c. Simmons, he met him with Chris at the ball and the café where he took a part-time job that time.

Lucas turn to him as he spat out hateful words, Simmons men grab Leon as he drag him out causing Lucas to scream at Simmons to stop until he is not in the room and could hear his father voice screaming out his name

"LEON!!!!!"

Leon struggles to break free as the two-man drag him to another room where he is placed on the operating table. They strap both wrists to his ankles as he struggles to break free.

"Let me go!" He pleaded and watch as the two men left the room as Simmons enters.

Leon watch as the man tower over him, Simmons cherish his cheek as he shiver when he felt his fingers.

[alicethepiper]

i just found out derek simmons' middle name is "clifford" and that's so fucking funny - god pls put me and bestie in re6 so we can each, respectively, laugh at him for that

[crimescrimson]

The Good Deeds Of Ada Wong: Saving Lives

| Ada Destroys Carla's Work |

[n-eptunia]

Resident Evil 6 (2012)

[buddiesronance]

will forever hate the writers for making spencer kiss the person who mentally ab*sed him 😐

[knifefightandchill]

who do you think would ultimately when in a fight?

saddler, simmons, or wesker?

I know this is a joke ask, but I’ve legitimately put thought into this. Also coming from your armand blog makes this question so much better. Also the fact that you said when not win.

I’ve been wracking my brain over this all night long, because every time I think I have a solid answer, something changes my mind.

Because there are so many different factors and scenarios that could come into play. Especially when it comes to Wesker. Like are we talking just prototype virus? His injections in 5? full blow Uroboros Wesker? Does he have any resources? Like he’s a wild card. Is this DBD? Do I have to think about eldrich horrors??

So, let’s break this up into multiple parts; Saddler vs. Wesker, Saddler vs. Simmons, Wesker vs. Simmons, and the massive mess that would be all 3 at once.

Before we get into the the fun part, I wanna go over like their respective abilities and mutations ahead of time to make it simpler.

Starting with Lord Saddler.

(and I will be taking RE4R into account.)

We’ve got his human form, his final boss form, and the giant wreathing tentacle mass that is his final final form. He's also able to mutate parts of himself on a whim, and quickly go back.

With his human form he’s extremely fast, has a healing factor that allows him to not only heal literal headshots in a matter of seconds, but shoot projectiles back at assailants. When he wants. He’s very resilient. and terrifying.

His ability to call and bring in novistadors in both his human and final boss form makes for some really useful backup.

In his final boss form he’s slower, but massive, and can jump pretty fucking high. He's got sharp points at the end of his spider-y legs and those sharp boney tentacles at his disposal. Sure his weakspot is out in the open, but he can also crush people with the pincers(??) on his head.

The final final form is a massive immobile mass of writhing leviathan sized tentacles. Those can pack a punch by simply slamming down into things. Granted, he's the most vulnerable in this form.

Now onto Mr. Bolo tie, Simmons.

With enhanced C-Virus, Simmons has the ability to mutate indefinitely, and without the need to turn into a chrysalis like with regular C.

He can shift/shuffle back and forth to his human form regardless of a couple of his forms. which is both useful and a really really big disadvantage. Makes it easy to kick the shit out of him.

So, that being said, his notable mutated forms are beast/centaur, gigantosaurus, and the giant fly. The first being very fast, and able to shoot projectiles. Plus claws and all that. The second is well, a big ass B.O.W. dinosaur. He's big, has some bone plating, and has some really big teeth. Imagine dinosaur things, he can do those.

Without zombies or something to consume in order to heal and mutate further, I don’t think his giant fly form is applicable. Though maybe he could eat novistadors? if it came to that? But regardless, it has its sheer size going for it. we need really really big fly tape.

And now the ball of worms that is Wesker.

After injecting the Prototype virus, Wesker gained super human abilities. He can move so fast that it looks like he’s warping. He’s strong enough to punch a hole through a person’s chest, and catch and hold back rockets. What were the developers of RE5 on.

Being very skilled in both armed and unarmed combat, his melee is just as strong if not stronger than weaponry. If we look at him in Mercenaries, and Rev:2 raid mode, he’s a force to be reckoned with. especially with that big knife.

Throw Uroboros in the mix and things really start heating up.

It makes him bigger, even stronger, and gives him so many worms. Err, tentacles?? Tendrils?? Uroboros is one of those nasty viruses that consumes all organic matter it comes in contact with, and uses it to grow.

Wesker, however, doesn’t really use it in that manner? But I imagine it’s painful for others just getting touched by it.

Uroboros also makes Wesker extremely resilient and resistant to most damage. This man had to take a rocket launcher to the face in order to die, despite sinking in literal lava. So this generally unstable virus gives him one hell of an advantage. But does he really need it to be a threat in this fight?

So lets get into it finally !!

Saddler Vs. Simmons;

So ultimately, I think Simmons would win.

They’re relatively evenly matched, I don’t think it would be hard for Saddler to handle Simmons’ centaur form. He has the speed, the ability to throw his projectiles right back at him. Doing enough damage would cause Simmons to shuffle back to normal, which makes him really vulnerable. Even if Saddler had to mutate, his final boss form could deal with him easy. But Simmons always comes back.

Gigantosaurus Simmons has the upper hand. Most of his head is just a giant mouth with some big teeth.

He also has a lot of bone on him, which helps him get some defense. Final boss Saddler is all limbs and tentacles. One good bite from Simmons can cripple him. I think it’d take more than one bite to rip off a piece of him, but biting and tearing is still going to do damage. Sure, Simmons’ weak point is in his mouth; but aiming for that comes with the risk jaws closing around said tentacles.

If Saddler is able to do enough damage to cause Simmons to shuffle back into a human, then he could crush him or impale him easily. However, it’s a matter of can he do that much damage fast enough? Before he goes down? Or is badly hurt? The odds would be super close. BUT. He keeps coming back.

Saddler wouldn’t be doing too hot by the time he turned into a fly, and sure, that form isn’t as strong, Simmons’ attacks are really meh. But it’s fresh, it’s at full health, and I think our dear lord would be limping into that fight.

It’d be bloody and long and close, but I think Simmons would come out on top. Based solely on his dinosaur form and having whittled Saddler down over time.

Saddler Vs. Wesker

Against Saddler’s human form, Wesker could hold his own without weaponry. It wouldn’t be easy, Saddler’s ability to heal alone would be a massive pain. With weaponry, even if it was just a gun and a knife, he’d do infinitely better. I do think Saddler would be able to get the drop on him like he did with Ada though, in the right circumstances. Then he can dangle him and lure chris into a fight.

As far as final boss form goes, Wesker can hold his own for a while without weaponry, but he wouldn’t win. Saddler is too big, and too strong. Honestly, it’d be a really long game of cat and mouse. With weaponry, even just a knife and a handgun, he’d win. Listen, if Leon could do it, Wesker can do it easier and better.

If he was infected with uroboros, then it would be a more intense and interesting fight. Both have ranged attacks involving tentacles/tendrils. Despite still being a lot smaller than Saddler’s boss form, his amplified physical strength would put him on same level regardless of body size. Not to mention he becomes much more resilient against attacks. It’s a matter of out-surviving the other one.

I think Wesker would ultimately win. He’d find a way regardless.

Simmons Vs. Wesker.

The same thing applies when it comes to him vs. Simmons. If Leon can do it, Wesker can do it even better. Granted in this case, Leon needed help. So I’m keeping that in mind. Without uroboros, Wesker would need weapons of some sort and a way to use the environment to his advantage. Especially against the dinosaur form. Because it does have that armored plating, and only has one weakpoint.

His speed would help him dodge centaur projectiles, as well as rush attacks, also any stomping done by the dinosaur form. But doing damage to his stronger mutations is where he falls short. Or at least, doing damage quickly. Uroboros would put him on equal footing. He’s a smaller target than Saddler, a bit harder to get. Has some good ranged attacks that can chip away at his defenses. And the best part? Simmons can bite off his tendrils. It wouldn’t hurt Wesker. Sure he’d have to reabsorb the pieces, but it wouldn’t hurt him. Hell they could start truing to consume Simmons if he doesn’t spit them out.

And once Simmons shuffles back down to a person? He’s going to get wrecked. Even if he manages to reach his fly form. It just might take Wesker a little longer.

All 3 of them in one giant fight;

It’d be one giant mess, and honestly someone should just nuke the whole thing. Wesker wouldn’t win, he’d get away to survive. Saddler and Simmons? That’s a fight to the death. A big bloody fight.

In conclusion;

Wesker is OP. When I started writing this whole thing I didn’t think it would be Wesker. In fact I was almost certain it would be Simmons. Sorry Saddler :c ily. but after looking into things, Wesker really stood out.

A great litmus test for this is if Leon can kill it, it’d be a lot easier for Wesker to do so.

Ultimately, I’m no expert. I’ve confused myself so many times while writing this, and I’m sure there’s contradictions. But I still had fun with it and put some thought and research into it.

If you made it this far thank you! I hope you enjoyed it, or found it interesting.💕💕

I really love questions like this, and sharing my thoughts. (even though I go overboard.) And if anyone wants to weigh in with their thoughts, opinions, headcanons and all that, please do! It’ll be a fun conversation. I’m also down for more asks like this ngl xD

dividers are by saradika-graphics who can be found here!

[residenteviltimeline]

June 29, 1013: Elsewhere in Tall Oaks, Ada Wong has found Simmons’ lab, where she confirms the information Carla had originally given her. Now knowing she has a doppelganger running around, she decides she must find her and put an end to her charade. As she is leaving, she comes across Leon and Helena, right as it becomes apparent that Deborah had been infected with the C virus, and she mutates. The trio manages to defeat her, but ultimately she dies after falling off a cliff– Helena had tried to catch her, but, seeing her sister was gone and only a monster remained, she was forced to let her go. Helena explains that Derek Simmons, a national security advisor and presidential aide, kidnapped her and Deborah and forced her to help him conduct the outbreak that has just taken place to save Deborah’s life. Ada gives them some information regarding Simmons’ connection to The Family, and then departs.

[sparkie96]

“Allure” Chapter 13: “Damned If You Do…”

”Leon, darling,” Simmons said as he looked over different menus on the coffee table for two different Bakeries in his living room, “What kind of cake would you like for the Wedding Cake?”

Leon, who had been sitting in the living room with an Italian motorcycle magazine in hand, looked over at Simmons with a surprised look, “What? I didn’t accept the marriage proposal.” Leon pointed out, sitting up, “Besides…shouldn’t we get to know each other a bit more before talking about…?”

“I know plenty about you.” Simmons said with a dismissive wave, “I’ve been kept updated on you via your files.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t really count now, does it?” Leon asked, his tone pleading, “I don’t have access to files on you. How can I marry someone I don’t know?”

Simmons looked up at him with a hard look, and it took all of Leon’s resolve not to lunge over the coffee table and attack the man. Or strangle him with that stupid bolo tie. After minutes of tense silence, and apparently searching for something and not finding it in Leon’s eyes, Simmons gave a sigh, sitting back against the couch. He looked Leon over again, and despite seeing the man’s disappointed features, he felt hope as Simmons admitted that Leon did have a point.

“Besides,” Simmons continued, “The Leon Kennedy I knew is not the same as the one that sits before me now. This one is a very bright and beautiful young man. A clean slate…sort of.”

Leon gave a faux smile and a nod, though his skin felt as though it were crawling as Simmons stood, listing mostly physical attributes and lies about “the old Leon’s sex life” as he rounded the coffee table to sit next to Leon. “The better version” as Simmons said.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Family Fic Rec List

Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work. You are so appreciated, and you makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the CM Family Challenge!

SFW S.R. Fics (Pregnancy/Parenting)

Growing Pains: Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.

One Last Chance? by @justanothercmblog: Spencer and his wife have decided to foster a teenager.

Little Genius by @c-m-stuff: You and Spencer are married. You two have a beautiful daughter, who is coming to work with you.

Somewhere to Belong by @fortheloveofwonderland: You and Spencer have only been dating a few months when he drops the bombshell that he wants to adopt a child and it throws you into turmoil.

Who's Your Daddy? by @justawritterwithideas: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father. c

SFW S.R. Fics (Other Family Dynamics)

The Mother Wound by me: Spencer and Reader bond over the difficulty of an emotionally absent mother.

A Desert Bloom by me: Reader has never liked cacti. Spencer finally finds out why.

A Well-Kept Secret by @astrophileous: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Pet Parents by @junipers-archive: In which Spencer and Reader adopt a baby (dog).

Keep reading for other pairings, more of my S.R. fics, and another related Fic Rec Masterlist!

Other Pairings

Motherhood by @foxy-eva: Temily. Emily and Tara become mothers.

May by @gaelic-symphony: Temily. Tara and Emily babysit the Simmons kids.

Maternal Instinct by @gaelic-symphony: Emily/Alex Blake. Motherhood brings with it complicated feelings for new moms Emily and Alex. Written for the CM fandom gift exchange.

Keeping the Faith [AO3] by @masterwords: Hotchgan. Hotch and Derek take the kids to Easter Service.

Going Home Time [AO3] by @/masterwords: Hotchgan. Hotch and Jessica co-parent Jack

Home is Where the Heart Is by @prentiss-theorem: Alex Blake/Fem!Reader. Domesticity with Alex, Ethan, and Reader.

The Sound of (No) Silence [AO3] by @/ArwenLaLaith: Alex Blake/Fem!Reader. Reader and Alex have just welcomed their daughter into the world.

Home by @neuroprincess: Alex Blake/Fem!Reader. Alex finally returns home after one week.

Question of Timing by @codename-mom: [NSFW] Aaron/Haley. Aaron finally agreed to make Haley a mother and she realised that the d-day is now. The issue is: how to convinced a husband afraid AF to be a father to do the last step? 

Be sure to check out @darcyfangirlsfrequently's Masterlist of entries, which includes fics for Luke Alvez, Garvez, and Tara/Rebecca!

Be sure to also check out @the-guilty-writer's Masterlist of entries, which includes fics for Child!Readers of Spencer, Rossi, Derek, and Hotch, as well as Emily's sibling!

Gen Fics

Mothers and Daughters by @/gaelic-symphony: When Ambassador Prentiss brings the team a kidnapping case, it causes Emily to reflect back on her tumultuous relationship with her mother.

A Day At Work by @/codename-mom: Platonic. JJ arrived early in Hotch’s office to discover that he was not alone. A surprise guest was with him for the day.

Looking for more?

Keep reading for the rest of my Spencer Reid fics associated with pregnancy and parenting!

SFW S.R./Mom!Reader

Impromptu: Reader learns some shocking news when a case lands her in the hospital.

Painting by Numbers: Spencer is still a little worried about his pregnant wife painting the house.

Practice Run: Spencer and Reader take on Derek’s challenge to babysit.

The Prodigy Path: At a parent teacher conference, Spencer and Reader explain their seemingly unorthodox parenting style.

Fairytales: Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.

Intentions: Spencer’s teenage daughter wants to have a conversation with you about your intentions with her father.

Defining Family: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

From the Tree: The kidnapping case becomes personal when Spencer and Reader get a call from their nanny.

S.R. & Child!Reader

Like Father, Like You: Child!Reader. Platonic. In which Spencer’s child comes out as not-straight.

NSFW S.R./Fem!Reader

Domesticity: Reader gets worked up watching Spencer with kids. He notices.

Different Kind of Daddy: After a rough day, Reader has good news for her husband.

Santa’s Gift: Reader asks her husband what he wants for Christmas.

To Have and To Hold: Reader is trying to save her marriage, but Spencer seems resigned to its failure.

Stork Song: Spencer and Reader try to find intimacy again following a terrible loss.

Still not satisfied?!

Check out my extensive Father's Day Rec List!

Thanks for reading.

[mychoombatheroomba]

Fade Out

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 53

You and Leon are questioned following the events on base.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

TW for angst and government manipulation but what else is new?

You didn’t really know where you were, only that the room was familiar. A one-way mirror. A simple table. A recording device. An empty chair across from you. A little TV on the corner of the table.

You’d been in a room like it once before, when you gave your report on what happened in Finland over a year ago. 

Now, here you were, history repeating itself; returning to you in new clothes but with the same violent intentions. You’d thought you had been cresting a hill in feeling your pain ease. Now you knew that you’d just been the unknowing fool strapped to a wheel, turning up to see the sun only to get crushed against the ground once more. 

So you let yourself be pressed down by the weight, wishing you could well and truly sink into the earth. It was easy to fall into that mindset by yourself, you found. 

In the days following this newest nightmare, you and the others had been isolated. A safety precaution to prevent the spread of the virus, and to keep anyone from taking action. Now, though, you’d been escorted from your quarantine and taken to this room, where you knew questions would be waiting for you. You didn’t want to talk about what had happened now any more than you had after Finland. You didn’t want to speak into reality what was already building a cage around your mind. 

Not that you had a choice. 

The door opened without you being ready for it to. A man walked in, carrying a manila folder. Tall. Brown hair. Pale, gaunt cheeks. Another fine-pressed suit, complete with one of those stupid ties that only cowboys should wear, but assholes from old money always seemed to love. 

“Good morning, Sergeant,” he greeted, already sounding like he knew everything in the world. 

Then there’s no need to talk to me. 

You didn’t speak back as the man settled into the chair opposite you, clicked the record button on the machine in front of him, holding the folder in his lap. He spoke your rank and name into the air, alongside the word “debriefing” as if that’s what this was. “Presiding officer: Derek C. Simmons.” He fixed his gaze on you, then, and it began. 

⧫⧫⧫

Leon knew the man across from him. 

He knew that aged face, the hair that was already beginning to gray, the rectangular glasses. Hard to forget a person who forced you into military service. Who had weighed your life against information you possessed and deemed you the lesser of the two. 

He half expected Adam Benford to find some new, horrible way to threaten him. As the agent took a seat and started the recording, Leon kept waiting for him to bring up Sherry, or even you and the others. He waited for some terrible new hammer to fall, because that seemed to be the way of things. 

Instead, it was just questions.

Familiar questions, all revolving around one central theme: tell me what happened that night.  

So he did. He relived on tape every agonizing detail. Each moment. 

- a shriek and a cracking of bone as it connected - 

- the laces of his boot colliding with a skull -

- no time for surprise to even register on his face -

⧫⧫⧫

“All of that, and you weren’t infected,” Simmons mused, stroking the goatee on his chin. “Nearly everyone on base turned, and you-”

“I didn’t eat the same food as everyone else,” you said dryly, because you’d had plenty of time over the last few days to put together that much. “That’s what it was, wasn’t it?” 

The man gave you a look that might have been approval, even if it was still filtered through a discerning veneer. “It was. And how convenient that you happened to avoid it. Just as you managed to avoid being infected during the incident at Dorne Base.” 

Anger. It lanced through you as soon as Simmons spoke. “If you’re looking to make accusations, don’t waste your time. Did you find Reed’s body with the others?” You didn’t even need Simmons to confirm it, you were so dead set in your belief. You were certain beyond any shadow of a doubt. 

⧫⧫⧫

Benford shook his head, and Leon knew you’d been right. He could feel it, even if your explanation had been rushed and delivered in near mania back on the base. How could it not have been? You’d watched another home fall in the same brutal way. You’d endured your nightmare a second time. 

Another horror for you to relive.

Another horror for Leon, because every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was a smoking rifle barrel and that look of emptiness on your face-

“How did this happen?” Leon asked, because when he wasn’t thinking of the blood and fires, he was thinking of that one question. “How did you let this happen again?” 

The wrinkles already present on Benford’s face deepened as he frowned. There was more guilt there than Leon would have expected. “We put our trust in the wrong person,” he answered, and Leon couldn’t have scoffed more at the understatement. 

The wrong person. A man who’d had his run of the base. The authority to do as he pleased. 

“Reed was in charge of handling all incoming and outgoing mail. It’s fair to say that’s how he got the virus samples. It would have gone through him first,” Benford admitted, and again Leon was floored by how easy it had been, in hindsight. All Reed had to do was wait until Krauser and Hellman were away . . . “What we don’t know for certain,” the agent went on, “is whether Reed acted alone.” 

Leon had been exhausted for days. Sleep evaded him, no matter what he tried. His mind was addled with the fresh poison of memory and nightmare. Even so, even with the stupor he was in, he felt his hackles raise as soon as Benford spoke the words. 

“You think someone on base helped him?” 

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility.” Some terrible feeling in his gut told Leon who they suspected even before your name was spoken into the air. “You’re quite close with the Sergeant, aren’t you?”

“You can’t be serious.” What other response was he supposed to have? “Are you just throwing accusations around for the hell of it? Or have you found any evidence?” 

⧫⧫⧫

“No, we haven’t,” Simmons surprised you by answering honestly, but his intake of breath told you that he wasn’t done. That much was proven further when he lifted the folder he held, and a jolt of adrenaline shot through you. “We did find these, though, hidden under the mattress of your bunk.” 

Fuck . . .

He flipped the folder open, and you immediately recognized the printed words on the first page. 

𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙽 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃 - 𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾

⧫⧫⧫

Leon looked down at the pictures of the reports and felt a new pit open in his stomach. He recognized them. He’d spent a fair amount of time reading through them, under your supervision, after all. 

“These same reports were missing from Major Krauser’s office,” Benford began, and Leon didn’t know what to do. 

What to say. Telling the truth would implicate not only you, but-

“The Major was adamant that he gave the reports to the Sergeant,” Benford explained, and Leon felt his heart sink. “He asked that punishment be his alone to bear. Claimed that he was the only one responsible for this breach of intelligence.”

⧫⧫⧫

“He lied.” It wasn’t your best performance, but you had to try. Had to do something, or Krauser would take the fall for your curiosity. Another casualty that you could have prevented if you’d been smarter. If you’d just put the fucking reports back when you were done reading through them in the first place. Now, all you could do was pray that your bluff would work. “I took them from his office the night before the attack. Check the camera footage, I was in the officer’s barracks. He’s just trying to cover for me.”

Simmons, for his part, just seemed intrigued by your words. “Really?” he said, raising a brow. “And what reason would he have to do that?” 

⧫⧫⧫

Leon knew the reason. He had been ignoring it for long enough, but he knew now. The Major’s service was everything to him, his life in the military all that he had. Still, he’d risked it for you. It all became unavoidable, then; why Krauser had been so harsh with Leon after Fort Benning. Why he’d been taking such an interest in your training. Why he’d given you classified information. Him keeping your secret, his late nights with you, all of it. 

Krauser cared for you. More than he should have.

And Leon knew. 

If he said as much, if he spoke that truth, Jack Krauser’s career would be over. 

Krauser’s feelings for you were a breach of the balance of power. Leon knew that. He would be justified in reporting it . . . but Krauser had never acted on those feelings. At least as far as Leon knew. He cared for you, that much was obvious, but he’d never acted on it. And Leon knew he wouldn’t. For all the harsh training, for every bruising lesson, Krauser was a good man.

A man that Leon, despite himself, cared for.

A man who just wanted the best for those under his command.

Still, a choice had to be made.

Leon wasn’t a liar. He had never been good at it. He’d always spoken the truth, when he could help it. 

But more than that, he’d always defended those he cared for. 

“He’s loyal to his men,” Leon answered, his voice smaller than he would like. It was true, he supposed. Even if loyalty may not have been all the Major felt towards you. “He would lie to keep them protected in a heartbeat.” 

⧫⧫⧫

“And you are loyal to him, it seems.” 

You knew where this was going, because Reed had made the exact same implication the other night. It made you want to scream. This whole ordeal did, because it was what little remained of your world being torn apart once more. The dogs and carrion birds had come to tear at the remains of you. It left you on your back heels, trying desperately to defend yourself and your Major both. “I’m loyal to everyone I serve with.” 

“Not to your country?” 

“To the government that signed off on a deal with Birkin?” you hissed, shaking your head. “That let an Umbrella agent slip under its nose? How can I trust that country when anyone could be working for the enemy? How the fuck can I even know that you’re not with Umbrella? Another asshole on its payroll?” You were seething, now. Swinging blindly at an enemy you couldn’t see, hoping to land any blow. 

Simmons regarded you, then, his eyes calculating. 

Up until now, everything felt scripted. Like he had been given a loose list of questions to ask you.

In that moment, you felt him break from it. 

⧫⧫⧫

“I understand what the Sergeant has gone through,” Benford said, his tone more sympathetic than Leon had ever heard it. “I know that what you both endured might have brought you . . . closer. I know that you likely trust the Sergeant. I’m trying to determine if we can.” 

Leon’s jaw clenched. “You’re crazy if you think that anyone who watched their entire base be destroyed, who lost the people most important in their life, who nearly died because of Umbrella, would ever work for those bastards.” Because you wouldn’t. You would never have done this. He didn’t understand why they would even think-

“You were close with Lieutenant Logan Alenko, were you not?” 

Benford’s question eviscerated Leon. Dug in before the younger man could even prepare himself. 

“Yes,” he answered, numb. “I was.” 

“And the Sergeant was too, am I correct?” 

Leon winced, the memory of your smiles and wry humor clashing brutally with that newest memory of you. The one that Leon could never and would never forget. 

“Yes.”

“But you reported that the Sergeant killed him anyway.”

“He . . . was infected.” 

“Infected but not turned, correct?” 

“. . . Yes.” 

Benford nodded, thinking for a moment. “You may speak freely, Leon,” he said, the eyes framed by glasses piercing but sincere. “Do you think you can trust an individual like that? One who is comfortable committing treason and executing allies?” 

Leon knew what answer was expected of him.

⧫⧫⧫

“I suppose you can’t,” Simmons admitted, seeming to mull something over. In the end, he looked towards the one-way glass, towards where other agents and officers were no doubt watching the debriefing, then back to you. “So allow me to be transparent with you.” He leaned forward, his hands clasping together and his elbows resting on the table. “Many of these reports that you’ve read crossed my desk. I was aware of the dealings being made with William Birkin. I was aware that Agent Reed was facilitating that communication.” You didn’t get any satisfaction from that confirmation. Not as Simmons continued. “I oversaw the operation to obtain virus samples when Birkin went silent, and when the situation in Raccoon City became uncontainable, I counseled its destruction.” 

You didn’t even have time to process the information. One hundred thousand deaths, deaths that bore down on Leon’s conscious, on your own, in a way . . . lives snuffed out in an instant, all because of this man. Some asshole in a suit. What truly made you feel empty, though, was what Simmons said next. 

“And I think you understand why I did it,” he said, and you wanted to look anywhere but his eyes. It felt impossible, though, as he peered at you from over his clasped hands. “You killed Lieutenant Alenko for the same reason.” 

You nearly flew across the table at him. Nearly tore his throat out. “It is not the same-”

⧫⧫⧫

You’d done it because you had to. Because Alenko would have turned if you hadn’t. You’d done it, Leon knew, to spare him. It wasn’t heartless of you . . .

⧫⧫⧫

“Oh, but it was,” Simmons shook his head. “It was ugly, but necessary. You kill a friend to keep him from turning into a monster. I destroy a city to keep a nation sleeping peacefully at night. I think you would have done the same thing, in my place. And I think you and I share a similar resentment for the organization that forced our hands.” 

The only thing that stayed your rage was hearing it mirrored in Simmons’ voice. 

⧫⧫⧫

You did what you had to do.

⧫⧫⧫

“Umbrella has upset the balance of our entire world. We did the same thing once before, developing the atomic bomb. We changed war forever. Now, it will be changed again. As much as we have tried - as I have tried - to keep the knowledge of what Umbrella has developed from the rest of the world, I know that news is already spreading. Our enemies are clamoring for their share of a weapon that can destroy a military base, a city. We will need individuals who can do what must be done,” he said, and you felt the chains clicking into place as he looked at you. “We need individuals like you.”

“I thought I might be responsible for all this?” Bitterness flavored your words because hadn’t he just suggested that you were the plant? That you were working for Umbrella?  

Simmons nodded, pensive as he lowered his hands. “I was asked to interrogate you on your potential involvement in this most recent attack, that is true. But you’re right. I think it’s a waste of time. You’re loyal to the men and women you serve with, I believe you when you say that. Unfortunately-” he drummed his fingers against the reports- “you have put me in a difficult situation.” 

Because even if you hadn’t been involved in the attack, you had absolutely done something wrong besides. You knew too much. Just as Leon knew too much, when he’d been tracked down after Raccoon City. 

They’d threatened a child to force his loyalty. Told him not so subtly that he and Sherry would die if he didn’t agree to give his life in service. 

What would they do to you?

“If you’re not with Umbrella,” you began, “then you don’t have anything to worry about from me.” 

⧫⧫⧫

You would never hurt anyone unless you had a good reason. Leon knew that truth in his heart. 

⧫⧫⧫

“I believe you,” Simmons said again, “but unfortunately, my superiors feel otherwise.”

“I’m offering you my cooperation-”

“And you’re being forgiven for committing treason,” Simmons pointed out. “You’ll forgive them for being cautious.” 

“Oh I will?” 

“You will,” Simmons nodded. “Because your Major admitted to committing that same treason on record. A record that I can strike or can act on. Just as I can ignore your fraternization, or act on it.” 

“I’m not fraternizing with the Major-”

“I wasn’t referring to him. Well, perhaps not only to him.”

You’d been through this enough times by now that it was no longer a shock; that realization that you hadn’t, in fact, been careful. That despite your best efforts, there were precious few ways to hide from eyes that were everywhere. 

So, as Simmons reached towards the little TV on the corner of the table and turned it on, it wasn’t shock that overtook you, this time. It was a dark acceptance. 

You looked at the screen, seeing the image come to life, low-quality, but unmistakable. Leon’s hair - that fucking ridiculous hair that he refused to cut - made it impossible to think it was anyone else. The shape of you was just as clear as you watched a familiar scene. You knew exactly what day it was. In your gut, you knew. The day you and Leon had faced Krauser together in sparring, right before the final test. The day you’d lamented that you wished to be going into service with Leon. You schooled your expression as best you could as you watched the recording, seeing you both walking back to the barracks, stopping, and then Leon folding his arms around you in a comforting embrace. 

⧫⧫⧫

He loved you. However much horror you’d endured, he loved you. 

⧫⧫⧫

You watched as, after a moment, your own arms came up to hold him in return. 

When you were with him like that, it was easy to forget the passage of time. Comfort had that effect, you supposed. Now, though, each second that embrace lasted on screen seemed to be a lifetime long. 

It was always going to turn out like this. You’d known that going in, hadn’t you? 

“Is this supposed to be a threat?” you asked, your voice becoming hollow once more. 

Simmons shook his head. “It’s an observation. You and Kennedy care for each other. The Major claimed to have no knowledge of anything between the two of you, but Hellman and Reed’s reports both surmise that you two are close.” He tilted his head, opening his hands in a questioning motion. “Just how close are you?”

“He asked me to teach him how to fight,” you said, holding Simmons’ gaze. “We’ve trained together. We’re friends. Nothing more.” 

“Really? No deeper feelings at all?”

⧫⧫⧫

He loved you.

⧫⧫⧫

“There’s nothing.” 

Simmons didn’t believe you. You could see that much written plainly across his face. Still, he nodded. “Good. I’m sure you’re aware of the importance of Leon’s continued service. I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize that.” The threat was plain. Barely disguised. 

“Nothing will.” 

Because if Leon wasn’t in STRATCOM, if he wasn’t an agent for the government, he would be a liability. A man who knew too much.

That much was spelled out for you now, clear as day. If he was thrown from service, his life was forfeit. 

Krauser’s career, Leon’s life . . . all riding on you not misbehaving. 

The shackles were in place, your path forward clear. They were your weaknesses – the gaps in your armor. Simmons had found them without trouble. He would use them against you, if you gave him cause to.

So long as you were all entangled together, they would be in danger.

In the recording, you and Leon finally stepped away from each other. You watched out of the corner of your eye, numb. 

⧫⧫⧫

He hated what you’d done, but he loved you. 

⧫⧫⧫

“You want someone who will do whatever it takes? Who will bury Umbrella in the ground? You’ve got them.” If that was what you were put on this Earth to do, then so be it. 

You could be their weapon. That was what you’d been training for.

⧫⧫⧫

“Leon,” Benford spoke again, and Leon just wanted the nightmare to stop. He wanted it all to stop, even if just for a moment. “Do you honestly think we can trust a person like that?” 

The question wouldn’t have fazed him a week ago. It would have been ridiculous. Insane. 

Even now, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. He did. He always would. 

That didn’t change the fact that he had hesitated in his answer. Something had held his tongue, even if only for a moment. Something he never, ever wanted to associate with you, but he found it there all the same. He found it in the memory of your hollow expression, your blank stare as you lowered the rifle. 

Fear. 

He’d been afraid of you, in that moment. 

Or, perhaps, he’d been afraid for you. 

“It had to be done.” Leon was trying to convince the man across from him as much as himself. 

So yes. He trusted you. 

Even if he would never forget what you’d done.

⧫⧫⧫

Hearing those words, Simmons smiled. “I’m glad we understand each other.” With that, it was done. The agent stood and left, and a few seconds later, soldiers came in to lead you out of the room.

You passed him in the hallway as you were escorted back to your room. 

The universe loved its shitty timing, didn’t it? 

Leon’s eyes widened just a touch as he saw you. Blue framed in bruising. Still beautiful, just as he had been when you’d seen him across the mess hall. Just as when that bruising had been dealt by your hand and not just a lack of sleep. Maybe that lack of sleep was your fault, too. 

You hoped it was.

You hoped he hated you for what you’d done. You certainly did. 

It wasn’t hatred that you saw in that gaze, though. 

No. Instead, you glimpsed uncertainty. Concern. 

Fear. 

And what did you give back? What did you spare the man you loved? The man who had saved you the night of the attack and long before then? 

Absolutely nothing. 

You kept walking, your eyes focused forward as you passed him. 

You didn’t even blink. Not until you were back in your appointed cell, finding your belongings there. Fatigues, rucksack . . . and a radio that you shouldn’t have had. One stolen in an act of petty retribution. One that had been your companion as you watched others training for a war that was yours. 

Only yours. 

It should have only been yours. 

You took the radio in your hands. Flipped it on. 

A guitar. Drums. A voice that seemed to strain against the very words it sang. 

Cracked eggs, dead birds,

Scream as they fight for life

You’d known. You’d known from the start it couldn’t end any other way. 

I can feel death, can see its beady eyes

If things could be different . . . if you were anyone, anywhere else . . . but you weren’t. Wishing didn’t matter, not when you were faced with the reality before you. Leon could have your love, or he could have his life. You knew which one he would choose. So you wouldn’t give him the choice.

All these things into position,

All these things we’ll one day swallow whole

Your hands tightened around the radio, your eyes stinging.

And fade out again . . .

Your teeth clenched so hard you thought they might break, just as the plastic on the radio began to groan under your constricting fingers. 

And fade out-

Plastic and wiring splintered against the wall. The radio kept playing, even as you dashed it against the concrete. So, you brought your heel up. You knew how to silence something that wouldn’t die. You knew better than anyone. 

You brought your boot down and there was a crunch, a warping of voice.

Then, finally, silence. 

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