Chapter Text
The office building was only a couple of stories high, but when the lift broke down, it was a pain nonetheless. It wasn’t early, it wasn’t late. The high noon of one of the hottest summers you remembered had already passed, but the heat travelled through the thick walls of the staircase, making the railings surprisingly warm. You let out a heavy breath as you dragged yourself up — just two more steps — you whispered to yourself. The cardboard cup you were holding was filled to the brim. You were surprised it didn’t collapse on itself with how firmly you were holding it, but the most important thing was that the coffee in it was still intact.
You pushed the staircase door open. The office was mostly deserted. It was Saturday, after all. Only you, your boss and a couple of higher grade employees were this dedicated to their job. The tactical sector wasn’t the easiest one to work at — arguably the hardest.
Around 4 years ago you completed your training at the DSO. They recognised your analytical skills and technological knowledge, quickly transferring you from your rookie agent job to the command centre. You were very good at it and you liked it too. Your boss recognised your prowess so much, that he entrusted you with DSO’s most valuable agent: Leon Scott Kennedy.
Leon had the reputation of a rowdy, slightly unhinged and definitely not “easy to talk to” agent. It was as much of an honor to work with him, as it was…
Well, interesting.
His missions were almost a 100% success. He was responsible, he took care of people, he had a moral compass (unlike some of the agents), he mostly scored well on the psychological tests (surprisingly), but rarely did people at the command centre put in a good word for him. You quickly came to know why.
”Shit..” You took a sip of the scorching hot coffee, feeling your mouth light up in pain. You slammed the cup down and put on your headset. You felt drops of sweat drip down your back. You agreed with Leon to take a break on a mission — you were already behind your desk for almost 12 hours and he also wasn’t made from steel. Killing zombies is not as easy as it may look for him, he needed to acknowledge he was human too. You told him to stay somewhere safe as you got your coffee, before you would collapse from the lack of sleep and leave him without any support. While you were at the coffee shop, you got an awful lot of stress signals in your work app, which you didn’t necessarily take to heart. Leon was a drama queen, he often sent notifications to make you cut your breaks short — well, he was a duty first kind of guy.
So you ran upstairs as fast as you could, cursing the godforsaken lift that needed to break just when you had to deal with Leon’s denial of human needs and having you climb to the top in 90 °F . You sat behind your desk with a heavy thud and an aggravated sigh.
”Seriously, when will you learn? You’re not a zombie, Leon. YOU actually need to eat and sleep like the rest of us.” You pinched your nose with your free hand.
Silence.
”Leon?”
Again, no response. Your heart rate picked up more than when you were running up the stairs.
”Kennedy, do you copy?” Your voice shook slightly.
”Fuck…”
You heard a pained groan through the gritty static of the comms device.
”Leon? Are you okay?” It was a slight relief to hear him, but with how he sounded “are you okay” was rather rhetorical. You heard a wet gurgle.
”Never been better” it was definitely said with a smile, though you heard sputtering afterwards.
”Tell me what’s happening” You were centering his location in the tracking window all the while thinking how to get him out. No one was really in the office at the moment, but you had to try.
”Well, our guy isn’t exactly a sweetheart” he coughed, it sounded wet even through the old communicator.
”I said.” You took a deep breath. “Tell me what is happening.”
You’ve heard some shuffling.
”I got hit.” he muttered. “A couple of times actually. He might’ve broken my ribs… I have blood in my mouth.”
You had an urge to punch him in the face.
”I told you to wait for me. Why have you…”
”You can’t always wait, smartass.”
You gritted your teeth trying to keep your anger at bay and opened the layout of the residence he was currently in.
”Are you in a secured location?” You’ve heard a rustle.
”Yeah… You could say that. I’m in sort of a… safe room?”
“Kay, good enough. This time wait. Genuinely.” You stood up from the desk, reaching for your headset. You stopped for a moment. “Or I’m going to kill you.” Before you fully turned it off you heard his wheezy laugh.
You grabbed an emergency manual, which was still for some reason not digitalised and marched into your boss’s office. He was almost falling asleep over some files, but you interrupted his nap by knocking on the doorframe. He raised his dazed eyes at you.
”We have a problem.” You set the manual on his desk, propping yourself on your knuckles. “Leon got hit. Badly. We need a rescue division.”
Your boss let out a long sigh and covered his face with his hands. There was a long silence, which you were too confused by to break it.
”We don’t have a rescue division.” He said, like he was admitting to some violent crime.
”What.” That wasn’t even the question. You felt your muscles starting to give out. How come? What were you going to do?
”Everyone’s in Egypt. Shit hit the fan there, a couple of them got killed and no one is coming back until next month at least.” He took his glasses off to look at you with the most genuine tiredness you had ever seen.
”I don’t care! My agent’s in danger. He has serious injuries, I don’t even know if he can stand.”
”Kennedy’s been through worse. He’s going to make it back even if he has to claw his way out of a grave.”
You couldn’t believe your ears. One of their best agents, thrown alone into a risky mission, discarded. You took the manual in your hands, looking again at the subpoint about sending the rescue division within as little time as possible after an incident. At the top was a boldened heading that read “ensuring your agent’s safety is your first priority”. You crumpled the paper and threw it on your boss’s desk, sending him the last, cold look of disappointment.
“Priority my ass.”
***
You came back to your desk. On your short way there you already had the time to think twice of giving up and pick it back up again, with the determination of someone who got paid way more for their job.
You leaned over the desk, muttering curses to yourself.
I know. I know what I need to do.
You picked up the headset again.
”Leon?”
A short pause, a bit of rustling and a sigh not as hurting as you’ve heard a couple minutes before.
”Yeah?”
”We have no rescue.”
You didn’t hear his breath hitch, there was no change in the air, nothing.
”I don’t need rescue. I just need to… rest a bit, and I’ll be-“
“I’ll be there in 4 hours.”
This time the silence stretched long, like both of you were equally surprised by your words.
”What?” He finally said with a hint of amusement, though this time his voice shook just a little. One could blame it on the connection.
”I’ll get to the car, grab my shit from home and head down to your location.” You were in the process of downloading the files to your drive, in case something got lost on your way there.
“Hey, wait!”
Before he could protest you turned off the headset and stuck it in your bag. You walked down the stairs to the company garage a moment after. When you were silently driving, you felt stunned, worried, but not deterred from your mission. Your phone was lighting up with notifications. Distress signal after distress signal. They were coming in with more frequency than usual and you could almost feel the anger seeping through them.
Finally, the phone called. You knew the number.
”Comms.” you’ve heard a clearly frustrated sigh.
”Thought we weren’t supposed to call private.”
”Do you even know what you’re doing?” You heard in his voice that he had his jaw clenched and his teeth gritted.
”I am saving your ass. I mean, will be” You said with practiced calm, but little, involuntary tremors went through your hand.
“You’re going to go home and forget about it, do you understand me?”
”You’re not my boss. You can’t give me orders.”
He let out a frustrated grunt which sounded painful, but still mostly just agitated.
”You will be getting yourself killed. I order you to go home and forget it.” He repeated himself.
You sighed again as you stopped before the red light. Your hands squeezed tightly around the wheel.
“Leon, I’m not going to leave you without rescue. It’s against the protocol.”
“You have no training.”
“I had the same training as you. I just didn’t stay in the same department.”
This time you’ve heard a long sigh on his end. He sounded disappointed — but you’ve mostly heard him surrender to the inevitable. You knew his files like the back of your hand and was aware of the amount of loss he suffered, that he based his whole personhood on saving others. You briefly felt bad for your choice, but nothing could shake you enough to make you leave him. Silence stretched a little bit as you waited for the green light. Only a slight hum of the engine measured those drowsy seconds, making them somehow more uncomfortable. He said nothing.
”I’ve completed the same trials, Leon! Are we really going to argue about this?” You started driving again, slightly moving the sun visor so the setting sun didn’t bother you.
“Yes! You are acting like you aren’t just a 4-eyed nerd who sits behind the desk all day. You can’t follow me, you don’t know what’s out there.” This time his usually calm voice really peaked in volume.
He wasn’t a polite person. At least usually, but this: this was rude even for him. You stopped talking altogether. You wanted to turn off your phone, to scream at him for throwing himself into all of those situations but…
”You don’t even know if I have glasses. You’ve never read my files” your voice shook a little, like you were trying to stop the tears. You weren’t. You were just really pissed.
”I.. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to-“
”Forget it. Just stay where you are.”
You’ve shut your phone and were met with a silent hum of the engine and other cars passing by. You arrived at your house, packed a couple of things, including some specialised equipment you gathered throughout the years and took off. There were no more calls after that.