#jack krauser | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mychoombatheroomba · 2 days

Text

For the Fallen

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 41

You and Leon spend the holiday together and come to an agreement.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

Chapter Index

When the plans to study had been thrown out the window by your own hand, part of you had resigned yourself to a solemn remembrance. Fitting for the day, after all. One meant to commemorate the fallen. You weren’t sure what to do to honor them - the names in that report stashed under your mattress. The ones stamped above empty boxes in a graveyard you couldn’t bring yourself to visit. One of those names, still worn around your neck. A name that you wouldn’t be avenging any time soon, thanks to the broken bones in your side.

Just one of the dozens of names you were failing in your inaction.

You’d clutched that third dog tag in your hand as you sat alone in the infirmary, turning your music on loud and just letting yourself think, however foolish it was. You weren’t sure how else to honor the men and women whose stories you carried. So, even if it would just get you lost in a tempest, you’d begun to wade into the stormy waters.

You hadn’t gotten very far before there was a knock on your door.

Then your plans were, once again, completely changed.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Leon had said with a little smile when you opened that door to find him there.

Even after he’d explained Valeria’s plan, you’d been antsy. Maybe because you doubted her ability to stall the two CIA agents all day, maybe because you didn’t like the idea of owing Valeria anything else. Either way, Leon made it clear that, if you wanted his company, he’d be there.

You almost refused him.

There was a part of you that wanted to remember alone; to get lost in that storm.

“You don’t have to,” you told him. “You should be writing back to your family.”

Something crossed Leon’s eyes that you couldn’t identify, but the sincerity that followed was something you knew all too well from him. “That doesn’t mean that you have to be alone. If you don’t want to be.”

He was giving you an out. Offering you the option of taking that time for yourself . . . but you didn’t know when you’d have another opportunity like this. You couldn’t be sure that you and Leon would be able to be together at all until the end of his training, if even then.

The only problem was that it was today.

It was today and even if you’d been allowed to go off base and mourn, to attend a service or even see their empty graves, you didn’t know that you would. Last year on Memorial Day, you’d been determined to remember them through service. You’d been training, then. Pushing yourself to never fail anyone like you’d failed them. What greater way of honoring them was there? This year, though, your own body had caged you from that option. You didn’t know how to honor your fallen.

“Not sure I’ll be good company today,” you warned Leon.

He just shrugged, his expression becoming more knowing. Understanding. “Not sure I will be, either.” Because you weren’t the only one with fallen to remember. You felt insensitive for thinking only of yourself, then. Especially when Leon seemed to be thinking only of you. “But my company’s yours if you want it.”

You hesitated a moment, your lips pressed tight together.

“Did you finish writing your letters?” you asked, because you had seen the look on Leon’s face that morning. You’d seen how desperately he’d wanted to respond to the letters he’d received.

Just as you could see now that writing those return letters was proving to be difficult.

“No. Not yet. Not sure what to write, honestly.”

You nodded, your mouth twisting as you made your decision. “Well . . . write them in here, then.”

So, there the two of you sat, you on the bed, Leon in the chair and hunched over the nearby table, staring at a half-written letter. You had to promise him several times that it was alright for him to write it in your company before he actually got to finishing it. Or trying to, at least. You could see his mind rushing, trying to come up with the right words, his borrowed pen drumming against the table just as your fingers found their own beat against the metal of the tags around your neck.

“Sorry,” he eventually apologized. “I didn’t think this would take so long.”

You could sympathize. You weren’t sure what you’d put in your letter home, if you were writing one. Though, it occurred to you, you didn't know if that’s where Leon was writing to. You assumed, with the slightly messy handwriting of the letters he’d brought with him, that he was writing to a kid. That only made the process more difficult, as far as you could tell. So, you shook your head, flipping to another radio station. “Don’t worry about it,” you told him. Then, after a moment spent looking down at Leon’s letters . . . “Little sister?” you asked, taking a guess.

Leon’s smile came with a little laugh. “Sure, something like that.”

Something like that?

“You don’t have a secret kid you haven’t told me about, do you?”

A little hesitation and a strange look from Leon, and at once a look of horror crossed your face. One that made him laugh.

“Not like that!” he reassured you, shaking his head, waving his hands in front of him. It was a moment before he collected his thoughts, and when he did, there was a sense of somberness to him. One you recognized all too well. It was a look that overtook him whenever he talked about that night, if fear didn’t get to him first. So, you weren’t surprised when he explained where he met the little girl in the letters. “She was in Raccoon City. Her parents . . . her parents died there. So when we made it out, I took care of her for a while.”

That was . . . not that surprising, actually. Not when it came to Leon. He would offer to house some kid who had nowhere else to go, even after he’d been through so much.

“So . . . a secret kid that you never told me about.” You grinned a little as you spoke, letting him know you were teasing. You were sure that helped Leon’s own smile as he looked back at you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned her before?” you couldn’t help but ask, because clearly this girl meant a lot to Leon.

But then, you of all people knew what it was to keep your heart guarded, didn’t you?

“I don’t know,” Leon admitted, his voice quieter. “I guess I just . . . didn’t know how. Not something that ever really came up in conversation.”

Another nod as you looked down at the floor, then back up at the mystery that was your lover. You’d given each other so many pieces of yourselves, but still had so much else locked away.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

Leon smiled as he answered. “Sherry.”

Sherry. Another name from his past. Another piece of who he was.

Another name that had an unexpected weight for you, too.

“She was Birkin’s daughter.”

Your eyes widened, because that name brought on nothing but anger in you. “The scientist?” The man who had helped take everything from you, even indirectly. The bastard responsible for the destruction of Raccoon City. You remembered his correspondence with the CIA, demanding protection for him, yes, but his family too.

Sherry.

Leon nodded, solemn. “He almost killed his own kid.”

You were full of anger and retribution - that had been all you’d known for so long before Leon. But even you didn’t have it in you to be angry at a child for the sins of her father.

“Then it’s good she had you,” you told Leon, because you could see that Sherry, even if she wasn’t his own flesh and blood, meant a lot to him. That was all but confirmed in the grateful smile he gave you in return. One that turned more sad.

“I wish I could have done more for her.”

Of course he did. Whatever good Leon did, you had the feeling it would never be enough for him.

“Is that who they were asking about?” you couldn’t help but ask, and it was Leon’s turn for brief confusion. “Hellman. Back in the prison,” you said, and you felt bad that the color drained a little from his face at the mention of it. Still, you’d been curious since that day. “They asked about someone’s name. A girl. Was it her? Or Ada?”

Leon’s lips tightened, and he shook his head. “No.” Neither. Interesting. “No, that was . . .” he hesitated, and you half expected him to say pass. It had been a while since you’d needed to use that system, but you’d imagined it may make a reappearance.

Instead, you got a full answer.

“They were asking about Claire,” Leon explained, his voice low like he was afraid someone might overhear. “I met her that night, too. On the way into Raccoon City. She’s the one who saved Sherry, but she was looking for her brother after everything, so I agreed to take Sherry while Claire went looking.”

You nodded as you listened, this being the first you’d heard of this woman - another shadow Leon carried from that night, it seemed.

“What’s she like? Sherry?”

Leon looked surprised at the change in topic, but eventually smiled. “Smart. Maybe a little too smart for her own good, sometimes.” There was a fondness to his voice that melted your heart. “Persistent as hell, too. She really wanted me to get a dog for her. Almost convinced me, too.” He chuckled to himself at a memory you weren’t privy to, but his gaze slid down to the floor, the levity in his eyes fading a touch. “She’s tough, too. A lot tougher than me.”

You nodded, because for a child to have lived through the hell of Raccoon City . . .

“She shouldn’t have had to live through that,” Leon said, after a moment. You could hear the utter regret in his voice, and you knew he was wishing he could have shielded her from it all better. Of course, you understood. You wouldn’t wish what you’d seen on anyone, especially not a child. Sherry shouldn’t have had to see what she’d seen, but-

“Neither should you.”

Leon grimaced at your words, shaking his head. “None of us should have. None of this should have happened.”

“But it did.”

He nodded, looking down. “But it did,” he nodded, his eyes shifting from your face down - down to the clenched fist held just inches away from your heart, where you held your dog tags. It looked like he was gathering the courage to say something - and finding that courage didn’t take him as long as it once did. “Can I ask you something?” Even now, he was still too polite for his own good.

“Sure.” You had a feeling you knew what that question was going to be before it even left Leon’s lips.

You were proven right a second later.

“You wear three tags,” he said, looking back up to your eyes. The observation cut deep and pinned you in place. “The third one . . . is it your Captain’s?”

You knew you could refuse him an answer, just as you had for months whenever he asked about your past or the people in it. If you wanted, you could say one word and Leon would drop the subject, no questions asked.

But you’d wanted him to know everything, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, back before Fort Benning and all the mess that followed, that you would tell him about the man whose name and fate you had literally tied around your own neck. The man you’d considered a father in a time when you’d needed one, and a man you’d failed.

Leon deserved to know. So, you nodded. “It was.”

“And what was his name?” His question mirrored your own in a way that made your heart squeeze.

You answered with a tight voice because you hadn’t spoken his name out loud since you gave the report hidden only feet away from you. “Simon Reynolds.”

A moment of silence passed between the two of you, one where you could see Leon debating something. Eventually, when he spoke up again, his voice was soft. “What was he like?”

What was Reynolds like? The question hit you like a bullet, because for over a year you had thought more of his death than the man himself. Grief and vengeance had blurred the image of him in your mind, making him into a catalyst instead of a person. It wasn’t what he deserved, so as Leon asked the question, you let yourself go back to another time. One where you were a shitty kid who thought the world was out to get you. And maybe it had been, in the end, but for a while, Captain Simon Reynolds had been there to guide that anger at the world into something else. Something that could do good instead of harm.

“He was . . . firm. But never unfair. Kind of guy to tell you when you fucked up, but he wouldn’t hold it against you if you learned. Never made you feel bad about asking for help when you needed it.” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him, like you were seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time in ages. “Used to say ‘if you can’t run, you crawl, and if you can’t do that, then you find someone to carry you’.”

Leon smiled at that, nodding like the words were taking root. You’d figured they would. “I think I would have liked him.”

“You would have. He’d have loved you.” They would have been insufferable, you imagined, if there was a world where they could have met. If he could have met all of your second family. “They all would have.”

“Your old unit?” Leon asked, and you didn’t miss the hesitancy in his voice. He didn’t want to overstep, but he wanted to know.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve never talked about them much.”

You took a breath, then, because that fact had been weighing on you and now was as good a time as any. So, with a little exhale as movement made pain flare in your ribs, you got up from the bed and reached under the mattress for the manila folder you’d hidden in the lining. Leon watched you with parted lips, right up until you found what you were looking for and handed him a collection of papers. “Good day to change that,” you told him, and his eyes widened as he read your name off the paper.

“This is-”

“Everything that happened that night. My report on it. Their stories.” The ones that had been barred from the rest of the world. “All of it.”

The two of you looked at each other, then, Leon’s eyes widening as it sunk in just what you were telling him. You were ready. You wanted him to know, after months and months of hiding these deeper scars.

“Krauser also gave me this,” you went on, handing him a second stack of papers. One with his own name printed in black. Leon’s eyes flashed in momentary fear, but you assuaged it quickly. “I didn’t read it.”

The news made him tilt his head to the side a bit, and he looked between you and the report. “Why?” he asked, because you could have known everything. You could have seen into the wounds he’d been hiding, and that just made his confusion all the more ironic to you. Did he really think you’d do that to him?

“Because you hadn’t told me yet,” you said simply. That was all it came down to. He hadn’t been ready to share those details, and you wouldn’t take that choice from him. Leon would tell you when he was ready. “I wanted to hear it from you.”

As he realized that, he smiled up at you, soft and sweet. It meant a great deal to him, you could see it in his eyes. Even as they took on a more knowing glint and he handed the reports back to you.

“What makes you think I want anything different, then?” he asked, and your traitorous heart squeezed at the words. “If you want to tell me, if you’re ready, I want to hear it from you too.”

You took the papers, huffing and giving him a look. “Not gonna let me take the easy way out?”

Leon just smiled back at you. “Nope. Unless you’d really rather I-”

“No,” you shook your head, resolute as you braced yourself for what was to come. Because your comrades, your friends, your brothers and sisters, they deserved to have their stories told properly. Even if it was to someone they’d never met. “I want to. I want you to know. Just . . . it’s . . .”

“Take it as slow as you need,” Leon told you, reaching for your hand. “God knows I’ll probably have to, too.”

You looked down at him, searching his face. “That mean you’re ready too?” To tell you everything, all the details you’d only guessed at for months. To share the burden with you.

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking a little sad. “Like you said, it’s a good day for it.”

A day to remember the fallen - something you both had your fair share of. A day to mourn, and to try and move forward. So, with another deep breath, you nodded and decided to take a risk. You tugged on his hand, and without needing to be told, he rose and followed you the few steps to your bed. There, sitting on the edge, surrounded by letters and reports and soft music, the two of you looked at each other. It was a different kind of intimacy than what you’d already shared, different than the excitement of you kissing him in the darkness, of you sharing in stolen moments of pleasure. What you were about to share was deeper than that, and you both knew it. This was everything. This was who you had been and who you'd been reforged into. This was the scar you didn't dare to show to anyone, the bones that remained broken even as you tried to heal. One night that had destroyed you, one night that had destroyed him. Nights that, in some terrible way, had led you both right here, to each other.

So, you looked at each other, silently making sure you were both ready before, after a moment, Leon gave you a half smile. One of sadness and solidarity both. “So . . . who goes first?”

As the two of you shared your stories, as you spoke of the nights that your lives forever changed, his hand never left yours.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

Chapter Index

A/N: Just a lil chapter, because hoooooo boy the next one is gonna be a beast. There will absolutely be heavy topics described and discussed, because it's Finland and Raccoon City time at long last baby!

Yes, Reynolds' quote (and name honestly) is a reference to Firefly, and anyone who hasn't seen that show should absolutely go watch it, it's really really good 🥲

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #jack krauser #sherry birkin

26 notes · View notes