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Ada Wong could always sense it coming.
Even though Leon would never tell her.
But he didn’t need to.
She just knew.
After years of marriage, she had learned to notice little shifts in him. She had to. Even though Leon trusted his wife more than anyone, he was still stubborn when it came to opening up.
He had learned years ago that any sign of weakness brought danger. You can’t entirely train that out of someone, even with a ring.
Ada always noticed the first sign right away.
He would get emotional.
Not dramatically.
He wasn’t that type of person.
And it wasn’t obvious enough for anyone other than Ada to notice.
Ada noticed everything.
Years of being in the line of work she was in had drilled that into her. But with her husband, she noticed even more minuscule details.
Leon Kennedy was a man who could get shot, stabbed, chased by monsters, and somehow always keep a straight face.
But for a few days every month, however?
A mildly sad commercial could ruin him.
Ada woke up at 2 AM to find an empty bed beside her. She was used to Leon spending most of his nights wandering the house, doing anything to distract himself. So she didn’t think much of it.
She decided to go into the kitchen to make some tea and see if Leon was in the living room.
She was right.
He was.
She walked into the living room with a hot mug of black tea.
She immediately spotted her husband on the couch. He was watching a movie.
She glanced at the TV.
A dog had just been reunited with its owner.
Surprisingly to everyone but Ada, Leon was the sappy movie type.
She then glanced back at Leon.
He hadn’t seen her yet.
He was sitting with his knees to his chest and his sleeve over his mouth.
His eyes looked suspiciously glassy.
Ada stopped walking towards him when she noticed this.
Her sock made a slight noise on the carpet.
Leon’s head jolted towards her, and then he froze.
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds.
Then Leon broke the silence.
He closed his eyes and said,
“...Don’t.”
Ada playfully raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t what?”
“Just...” Leon looked away. “Whatever you were thinking.”
Ada tried to look clueless.
“I wasn’t thinking anything.”
“Yes, you were,” Leon replied instantly.
Ada slowly walked towards the couch and lowered herself onto it beside him.
She looked over at her husband, who wouldn’t make eye contact with her.
“You were crying over a dog,” she stated plainly.
“No, I wasn’t,” he replied, muffled through his sleeve.
Ada scoffed.
“You absolutely w—”
“It was an emotional scene!” Leon interrupted.
Ada calmly took a sip of her tea.
“At least you admit it,” she said slowly after she had swallowed.
Leon leaned back into the couch and groaned.
He usually would have argued longer, but today he just sank further into the couch.
That was the most worrying part to Ada.
Ada looked back over at her husband.
“How bad?” she asked him.
Leon frowned, either in confusion, defeat, or perhaps both.
“How bad is what?”
“The cramps,” Ada clarified, her tone suggesting that it was as obvious to her as the sky being blue.
Leon gave her an offended look.
“Ada...” he drew out his wife’s name slightly.
She simply narrowed her eyes and bluntly replied,
“Leon.”
Leon stared at her.
“Ada.”
It was a competition now.
“Leon.”
Leon gave up quickly.
He exhaled and finally looked up at Ada.
“...Pretty bad,” he admitted.
There it was.
The honest answer.
Ada felt proud.
She hummed in thought, as if weighing the problem.
“You take anything yet?” she asked him softly.
“Nope.”
“Well, why not?”
Leon shrugged.
“I thought it’d go away.”
Ada gave him a long, stern, but gentle look.
Leon stared back, waiting for her to say something.
“That was stupid, Leon,” Ada said bluntly, but not harshly.
“I know...” Leon broke eye contact yet again.
“Very stupid,” Ada continued.
“Alright...”
Ada stood up suddenly.
“I’ll get the painkillers.”
It took her a good few minutes to dig through their kitchen drawer full of pills for various things they had picked up from missions, and far too many types of Band-Aids and bandages for two people.
She also filled a glass with water and retrieved a heating pad.
But when she returned to the living room, Leon had barely moved an inch.
He was curled slightly into himself now, with one arm wrapped around his stomach.
His jaw was clenched.
Ada sat beside him and began administering the treatment.
She handed him the medicine and water, which Leon obediently took.
She gently placed the heating pad over his lower stomach.
She moved more like someone preparing for a military operation than somebody helping their partner with period cramps.
Ada tilted her head slightly at how accepting he was of all of this.
“No argument?” she asked him.
Leon replied without moving.
“Don’t have the energy.”
Ada pursed her lips.
That was concerning.
Ada carefully watched her husband relax by about ten percent.
She smiled a little.
“There he is.”
Leon turned his head slightly.
“I’m still suffering.”
Ada looked at him for a second.
“You look a little less dramatic, at least.”
“I wasn’t being dramatic...” Leon protested.
Ada laughed warmly.
“You looked like you were preparing your last will and testament, my love.”
Leon chuckled softly.
That was progress, Ada thought.
Half an hour later, Leon had melted into Ada’s lap, his head resting there.
The cramps still hadn’t eased much.
Ada had realised that they probably wouldn’t be moving for a little while.
But she didn’t mind one bit.
She had agreed to things like this when she agreed to marry him.
In sickness and in health.
At some point years ago, this had become routine.
But neither of them acknowledged it.
They had a natural instinct to take care of each other.
Ada had begun reading a book that was lying next to her on the couch, and Leon was trying his best not to complain.
But then a particularly nasty cramp hit, and Leon made a miserable noise.
One Ada was very familiar with.
It sounded like a puppy getting hit by a car.
Ada looked down at her husband in her lap.
“There it is,” she remarked softly.
“There what is?” Leon replied, sounding pouty.
“The sound.”
“What sound?”
“The monthly sound.”
Leon rolled over in Ada’s lap and turned away from her.
“There’s no monthly sound.”
“Oh, there is,” Ada protested teasingly, but still softly.
Leon rolled over again and buried his face in a cushion.
“Everything hurttss...” he whined, the words coming out muffled.
Ada set her book aside to give her husband her full attention.
“I know, my love.”
“I hate this,” came another muffled whine.
“I know, my love,” Ada repeated.
Leon rolled back over onto his back.
“I got chased by a giant mutant through a collapsing building, and somehow this feels worse.”
Ada furrowed her brow in consideration.
“That seems statistically unlikely.”
“It’s not,” Leon moaned.
Another cramp hit, and Leon squeezed his eyes shut.
The worst part, for him, wasn’t even the pain.
It was the exhaustion.
The hormones.
And worst of all, how it completely destroyed his usual ability to grin and bear everything.
The way every bad feeling became bigger.
The way even small problems suddenly felt impossible.
Ada knew that too.
“Leon.”
He opened his eyes to look at her.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay,” Ada said plainly, as if it were just a simple fact.
The words hit Leon immediately, because that was exactly what he had been doing.
Or at least trying to.
Leon exhaled shakily.
“Yeah...”
He looked away from her again.
A moment of silence filled the room.
Ada didn’t try to fill it.
Then:
“I feel ridiculous,” Leon admitted.
Ada frowned at her husband.
“Why’s that?” she asked.
“It’s just cramps...” Leon replied.
Ada immediately reached over and flicked his forehead.
“Ow!?”
“You are currently folded in half.”
Leon didn’t know how to argue with that.
He looked at the ceiling.
“I just...” he began. “I feel like I should be tougher about it.”
Ada’s expression softened.
“Leon Scott Kennedy,” she said.
He looked back at her.
“You have survived bioweapons.”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” Leon joked.
“You’ve survived cults,” Ada continued, ignoring her husband’s attempt to deflect.
“Also unfortunately.”
“You have survived the United States government.”
Leon laughed.
He actually laughed.
“So...” Ada said, smiling slightly. “I think you’ve earned a couple of days a month where you’re allowed to be pathetic.”
Leon looked back up at the ceiling.
“I’m not pathetic,” he protested.
“My love, you cried over a dog.”
Leon looked back at Ada.
“It found its owner!”
Ada rolled her eyes, still smiling.
A few minutes of quiet companionship later, Leon shifted closer until he was pressed against her side.
Ada wrapped an arm around his shoulders automatically.
Neither of them commented on it.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows, like the cold was trying to get in.
But inside, the apartment was warm.
Quiet.
Safe.
The cramps would pass.
They always did.
But for now, Leon rested his head against his wife’s shoulder as she continued reading her book, occasionally lifting a hand to run through his hair.