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When Leon finally wakes, the first thing he feels is the warmth in his veins.
It’s a stark contrast to the pain he felt the day before, the near constant state of distress during his most recent mission leaving him exhausted and bruised. He had almost forgotten that he wasn’t in his twenties anymore, unable to withstand the brunt of the physical burdens that come with his line of work like he used to, even though he is much stronger now than he was then. His body just doesn’t heal as well or as quickly as it once had. It probably never will again.
But even though that may be the case, it is not the aftermath which he finds himself thinking about. He just doesn’t think that any of what happened in the previous days matters half as much as this.
Nothing does.
Because nestled in the gentle, death-grip of his arms lies the body of someone who makes all of the terrible things that come with his job worth it, breathing peacefully against his skin like she was always meant to be there. With every inhale, he feels the warmth of her back press against his chest, resting lungs expanding with air, reminding him that she is alive. That they both are. That they have lived to see the light of another day once again, together.
The way it was meant to be.
Leon climbs out of his slumber slowly and with ease, closed eyes peeling open just enough to see the early morning sun piercing through the curtains across the room. He blinks a few times, trying to filter it into something less blinding, a deep breath filling his lungs and inhaling the scent of home. When he breathes it out, an evidence of the life that still lurks beneath his bones despite all that has tried to destroy it, he feels and sees the way it whispers against Ada’s skin, burying itself beneath it until it nestles against the rest of the parts of himself that live there.
Quiet and honest, it finds its way home.
It takes a while for his brain to catch up to his body, rusty gears slowly beginning to turn in his head as he stares at the sunrise beyond the balcony door. The entire room is bathed in gold, rays upon rays of light forming at the wave of a divine hand. If it weren’t for the heat blooming deep in his chest, Leon would almost think that he had died. But he hasn’t. Not yet. Maybe he never will, but if this is where he will end up when it finally does happen, he hopes that it will come quickly and without delay. There is no other place he would rather be than right here, dead or alive.
For the first time in a long time, his mind is completely silent. There are no worries, no pain, no anger. Just a feeling of being entirely content without a care in the world about what might happen after it passes.
As the fog of sleep dissipates, he slowly becomes aware of the steady climb of his heart rate, strong arms tucking Ada’s body even closer to himself until it is not possible to anymore. His hands tighten around each of her arms, squeezing them gently. The action causes her to stir, but she does not awaken. Just chooses to accept that there is not a safer place on Earth than the space where she lays her head at night.
Leon’s lips find the soft skin beneath her ear, reverent. Loving. Awestruck at the idea of all of this being real.
Of course, it has been real for many years now, but something about today feels different. It is like a fog has been lifted, or a mountain uprooted from its place in the ground, leaving space for the sun to settle on a world once cursed with the cruelty of darkness and ruin. Somehow, some way, a new dawn has arrived to greet him. The beginning of something entirely new, brought up out of the ashes of a cursed era which ended with grace. With hope. With something other than fear and death.
And it was all because of the silent requiem of an evil man.
Leon doesn’t know what will come after this— of Umbrella, of Raccoon City, or the world. He doesn’t really care. But there is a new purpose he finds in the air in his lungs now, and he doesn’t plan on ever letting it go to waste.
There’s a quiet hum at the press of his mouth to the corner of Ada’s jaw, his lips trailing kisses along the edge of it until she inevitably begins to wake from her deep state of rest. She breathes deeply through the shift from the unconscious to the living, warm fingers finding rest on his arms and tired eyes peeling open to let in the awaiting daylight.
Leon lets himself get lost in the way she seems to welcome his presence, her body entirely compliant with the way his mouth moves against her skin. In his slow administrations, he kisses everywhere he can reach, chasing the whims of his heart in earnest— her cheek, her temple, her ear, her neck, her shoulder. Drowning her in this nameless thing he feels when he knows he loves her but can’t quite explain how much.
It would kill him if he let it.
Maybe he will, one day.
When he makes it back to the corner of her mouth, she turns her face to meet him, soft lips enveloping his own until he can’t breathe for more reasons than simply existing next to her. Leon sighs, long and deep like he hasn’t been able to in decades, feeling every fiber in his body give up on doing anything other than staying right here.
At the shift and turn of her body, he releases her from his hold, goosebumps rising out of the depths of his bones when her palms slide over him, soothing away whatever doesn’t belong there. Chasing away the pain. The stress. The worry. Whatever else he might feel every time he opens his eyes.
Nothing else can be allowed to linger beneath his skin anymore. Nothing except her. She is the only thing that belongs.
“Good morning,” he murmurs against her lips, letting her breathe him in again and again until he’s hovering above her and she’s pressed into the mattress beneath him. When they finally part, he hums shortly, feeling the mischief rise in his chest. “Really good morning.”
Ada smiles, slowly and easily. Her fingers slip into the hair at the back of his neck, holding him in place and refusing to let him get too far. “Good morning indeed. How’d you sleep?”
“Like the dead,” he replies, restrained laughter invading his own smile. “Better than I have in ages, if I’m being honest.”
“Good,” Ada says, caressing his jaw and neck with her other hand. Letting her thumb roam over his cheek and under his eye as she studies him. “I’m glad.”
“How do you feel,” he asks. One of his palms finds the patchwork on her ribs, lingering there before carefully sliding over it until he settles on her hip. It might not be his best work, but it was the most he could do with the unsteady state of his brain the night before.
“Perfect,” she whispers, looking earnest in her response. “And you?”
Leon’s smile widens, his eyes drifting between hers and her lips. “Just perfect.”
Something in her gaze seems to shift at that, what was once a slight glow now expanding with life. He chuckles when she leans up to kiss him again, giving into the crashing waves without complaint, even if it means he will eventually drown. He lets himself be overtaken by them, meeting every action of her soul and her body with equal fervor, gentle fingers and careful hands roaming over every curve and valley until he is certain he has mapped every part of her. Committing it to memory in the same way she has committed him. Letting it heal him. Letting it heal her.
And when all is said and done, he lets it heal the rest, too.
It is the only thing that can.
“Tell me about your mission,” she says, when they’re boneless and spent in a way that doesn’t hurt.
Leon hums into his pillow, rising to tuck his arms beneath it as he stares at her. Trying to recall the memories of something he hardly feels matters anymore— especially not when he feels like this. “You want the short version or the long version?”
Ada shrugs a shoulder, letting the back of her hand trail over his side. “Tell me whatever you think matters.”
Leon smiles, slow and honest. “Well, all of it matters. I just have no idea where I’m going to start without making it seem like something it isn’t. Honestly, it was just another day in the office.”
Ada smiles back, rolling her eyes as she shifts slightly. “Then at least answer me this. Did you almost die?”
“Naturally,” he replies, feeling his ease slip from his grasp despite trying to remain casual about it. They’ve been through this kind of thing before, countless nights of worrying about the other until it made them both sick and unsteady. He had thought they had grown out of that part of themselves, eventually becoming more confident in the idea that they would make it home no matter what.
But Leon truly had almost died, down in ARK. He had pushed himself too far. He had almost broken his promise, too focused on his mission to consider the consequences of his unshakeable stubbornness. Of course, he had survived in the end. But he almost hadn’t.
And that is a scary thought.
Even more frightening is the idea of telling his wife.
Ada seems to notice the change in him at that, dark brows furrowing as she shifts closer to catch his drifting gaze. When she finds him, gentle fingers skim along the sharp line of his jaw until they settle on his cheek, her thumb beginning to trace the expanse of it until he makes his way back to reality. It doesn’t happen all at once, so she waits. She listens to the quiet that falls over the room. Looks for the way his soul fluctuates through the pressure of painful memories.
Leon hadn’t thought it was going to hurt, the ferocity of it all. Especially with the way it had ended. But thinking about it now, he had almost royally screwed up.
And selfishly, at that.
“Where’d you go,” she asks once he’s on the ground again, vision refocusing to spot the strange curiosity in the way she looks at him.
Leon shakes his head, hesitant. Searching her, looking for answers he can’t seem to provide on his own. “Nowhere, I just… I don’t know.”
“Tell me,” she whispers, her palm finding his neck.
He lets himself breathe for a moment, finding a will to remain present. Choosing to trust in a way he used to never allow himself, only finding a way to once he realized there was only one way he could— fully, confidently, and without fear. Refusing to run. Facing the things he had never known how to in the past.
“Underneath Raccoon City,” he begins slowly, gathering his courage. “There was another lab. This scientist I was after, Victor Gideon, along with another party believed it contained a bioweapon so powerful it could be the key to controlling minds. At least, that was according to Spencer’s research.”
Ada’s brows pinch at that, recalling the name. “Ozwell Spencer?”
Leon nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “But whatever he had written was too open-ended to know for sure. I spent hours tracking him down, but there was this girl that kept getting in the way. She was connected to it somehow and I didn’t understand why. When I followed them to that lab, that shit I was infected with got worse. A lot worse. But you know me, I tend to ignore that kind of thing when I get too focused on something else.”
“It almost killed you,” she supplies in place of his avoidance. “You ran yourself into the ground and it almost destroyed you.”
He closes his eyes, nodding again. Trying to unwound the tightness in his chest despite the knots forming too quickly to keep up. “That girl—Grace—she’s the only reason I survived. Because they were right. She was the key. Fortunately for us, Elpis wasn’t a bioweapon like Victor had believed. It was a cure. The last thing he had created before his time ran out.”
When he opens them again, Ada’s expression is neutral.
“I’m not mad, Leon,” she tells him, tucking her fingers into his hair to soothingly scratch at his scalp. “You’re still alive. That’s what matters.”
“I almost wasn’t,” Leon sighs, recalling how he came so close to it all. Feeling the remorse. “I just kept pushing and pushing until I couldn’t anymore. I didn’t care what happened. All I could think about was putting an end to something that ruined my life, and lots of other lives, too. I wasn’t thinking about what I would lose in the process. What you would lose.”
“Did you?”
Leon’s brows furrow slightly, confused. “What?”
“Put an end to it?”
This catches him off guard. “I suppose so. All of Umbrella’s nightmares are dead now, Victor Gideon included. But it’s not completely over, I’m sure. Maybe it’s just this part of it that is, for now at least.”
“Okay,” she says simply, like it’s easy. Like it’s not as fragile as he feels that it is.
“That’s it,” he asks. “That’s all you have to say?”
Ada nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”
Leon releases a disbelieving breath, internally fighting on whether he should be concerned or amused. But before he can choose, she shifts closer to him and nudges his arm, forcing her way beneath his body until she is certain that his entire attention is directed on nothing else besides her. Drawing him in. Forcing him to listen because she isn’t going to repeat herself twice.
“Look, Leon.” Her palms find rest on either of his shoulders, holding him in place. Grounding him. Making him steady. “I know you feel like you have to blame yourself for every minor inconvenience, but you don’t.”
Her words are baffling. “That’s not—“
“—You did what you thought you had to. You always do. Now I know, better than anyone else, what that might mean when you’re sent out on some crazy operation where you might not come home,” she continues. “There’s always a risk. And I know you, so I know that risk might sometimes be greater than what I force myself to think about. You’re a fighter, through and through. It doesn’t matter how hard it gets, you just don’t know when to give up.”
Leon stares down at her as she says this, trying to find meaning in all of it. It doesn’t really make him feel any better. Not when he’s now hyper aware of how reckless he can often become under duress.
“Every single time you walk out that door, I have to trust in the fact that no matter what happens, you will find a way to come back. Not because of luck, not because of your abilities, not even because of the sheer fact that you have survived the impossible time and time again for the majority of your life. It’s because I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that regardless of every single bad thing that happens to you, you will still somehow manage to climb out of that pit. Because you care enough about everyone but yourself to let something as silly as dying be the end of it for you. And I know that even if you did die, even if you did push yourself so violently that it consumed you completely, it would not hold you for very long because it can’t. Because you love too much and too indescribably to let go.”
Something uncomfortable dislodges itself from his chest then, the very beat of his heart becoming irregular in the face of such honest certainty. It scares him, how much she understands about him. How easily it is for her to trust in the things he just doesn’t know how to do.
“It scares me to death, don’t get me wrong. But even if something were to happen to you, God forbid, I would know that you did everything you could to make it back alive. Even if you failed. You try so hard without wanting credit that you tend to forget about what it means when you step through that door every chance you get. You don’t have to change the world, Leon. But you don’t have to blame yourself when you can’t do it, either. Regardless of the bad, you did a good thing. You saved lives, just as you said. You put down Umbrella, for now. You came home. Stop thinking about what could have happened, or didn’t. None of that matters to me.”
Leon sucks in a breath, shaky and moved. He doesn’t think he’ll ever hear something like this come out of her again, so he tucks it close to his heart and lets it nestle somewhere hidden beneath his skin, putting it away until the day comes where he has to reach deep inside himself and find something else to hold onto. Refusing to let himself forget.
“Okay?” Ada places her palms on either side of his face then, wiping the tear that has escaped and trailed a path down his cheek. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah,” he breathes quickly, feeling a smile tug at his mouth again as he nods. “Okay. But I have to ask, where the hell did you learn to talk to me like that? Seriously, it’s… you can’t just say that to me and not expect it to tear me apart. Geez, woman.”
“I meant it to,” Ada laughs slightly, looking increasingly amused but endeared nonetheless. “I think I’ve just learned a lot lately. You once told me that I needed to slow down a little, so… consider this an aftereffect of me slowing down.”
Leon chuckles, feeling the warmth in his chest return to him in full. “At this rate, I don’t think I’m going to survive retirement. You’re going to put me in an early grave.”
“Would you be opposed?” Her lips stretch into a grin, playful and easy.
“To which part,” he asks, laughing freely.
“Both,” Ada replies.
Leon pauses, searching her gaze. “You, Ada Wong, want to… retire?”
“I think I deserve it,” she breathes through a deep sigh, turning her head against the pillow beneath to stare at the growing daylight just beyond the balcony door. “After everything.”
She turns back to him, serious now. Raising her brows as she leans up to kiss him.
“And so do you.”
Leon hums against her mouth, chasing after her when she tries to pull away. When she forces them to break apart, warm palms pressing against his chest, Leon pouts. “They’d never let me. I’m invaluable.”
“Partial retirement, then. You can do less work and still be employed, but also technically not.”
“Partial retirement,” Leon laughs. “Do you hear yourself? Where is Ada Wong and what have you done to her?”
Ada laughs too, an incredibly beautiful sight to behold. “I don’t know. Maybe she got married and ran off with you.”
“Rude,” he mutters, kissing her again. Relishing in the way she clutches him closer, bare skin soft as silk against his own and warm like nothing else is. “Maybe I’ll get a divorce,” another kiss. “Get her to come back,” another kiss. “That way she’ll help me actually fight for a full retirement and not some conditional shit that’s gonna put me six feet underground. And that’s if she doesn’t put me there first.”
“Shut—” she kisses him again, long legs winding around his waist beneath the bedsheets. Her fingers find his hair, adamant and commanding. “—up.”
Leon groans when her tongue finds its way into his mouth, strong muscles tightening at the closeness of her body and heat beginning to resurface out of the cavity in his chest, searing his bones and his skin and his entire being until the cold cowers at the mere mention of his name.
This too, he decides, will kill him slowly.
“Yes ma’am.”
He certainly doesn’t mind.