Chapter Text
As she lowers the weapon, Ada Wong feels her whole world turning upside down.
The metal under their feet is falling apart, rubble raining from above as NEST crumbles down around them. The alarm keeps blaring its automatic message, but everything sounds distant and off in her ears, as if her head were underwater and her breathing started faltering.
Ada only sees his blue eyes fixed on her—the raw intensity of them is unbearable. No one has ever looked at her like that. Ever.
Then it all comes back in a sudden moment, she blinks, air blown into her lungs like she has inhaled oxygen after drowning. Leon stands in front of her, hands fisted on each side of his body, the shadow of a smirk painted on his lips. He looks hopeful and it terrifies Ada.
Another metallic shriek, and the catwalk bends in an impossible way. Leon lunges forward, as the grate under him breaks off and disappears into the depths of the main shaft. There's a glimpse of something shiny dropping out of his pocket—the vial. Ada follows it with her eyes, but somehow she stays frozen. Her gaze focuses on Leon again. All she has done tonight was with a purpose: to acquire that sample, and now it has fallen and she's not even processing what it means, the implications behind it. Instinctively, without even thinking about what she is doing, Ada grabs Leon's forearm and helps him recover his balance.
“You have to go, Leon. Now,” she blurts, switching their places and pushing him closer to the elevator.
The catwalk keeps falling apart, pieces of metal tearing down as more debris and blocks of concrete come down over their heads. This is the end and everything screams urgency.
He blinks, a perplexed stare on his eyes.
“We’re leaving together. Come on,” Leon extends his hand, a clear invitation for her to take it. “We can make it.”
He’s asking her to leave with him, even after her lie has been exposed just a few minutes ago. Despite her betrayal, he still answers with kindness. Ada gulps, feeling the bitter taste of guilt at the tip of her tongue.
She hasn’t felt so many things at once in a very long, long time. Anger, desperation, sadness, confusion and a hint of happiness—his gentleness is undeserved, yet Leon doesn’t hesitate to give it freely. To her, of all people. It shouldn’t spark this tiny flame of joy in her, but it does. It makes her dizzy, her stomach churning. But she can’t afford it. Ada shakes her head, averting his gaze. Her priorities are clear.
“I’ll only slow you down, just—leave,” she yelps, pain piercing her leg as the muscle tightens, hands around the thigh.
Down to her knees, she glances up when he grabs her by the elbow. Leon has strode towards her, leaning next to where she is.
“Cut the bullshit, ok?” he spits, anger mixed with urgency. But his body language gives him away, his movements are jittery and his breathing is frantic. “I’m not leaving you here, so we better move now.”
The wound throbs, as if there were a river of lava running under her flesh. A heavy block of concrete crashes just next to them, forcing her to plunge to the center of the main shaft, guided by Leon’s firm grasp of her waist. He glances down—seeking her eyes, searching for a reaction or maybe just making sure she’s safe. She finds it unbelievable, his worrying about her that much after what happened on the bridge. Ada wants so badly to protest, to just give up and be buried under the rubble of this hellish place, of the city and all it stands for. It would be so easy to just let go, close her eyes and forget about everything.
But there’s one thing, one small thing, she’s not willing to sacrifice—Leon. She has learnt the lesson the hard way throughout the night.
“Shit,” she mutters under her breath, shutting her eyes closed as a new wave of pain crushes her. Leon’s fingers grab her tighter, lifting her arm so it’s resting around his neck.
“Come on,” he urges, raising both of them up with adrenaline-driven strength.
Ada is sure his shoulder must hurt just as much as her thigh, but he seems unstoppable, a frown between his eyebrows and lips pressed together. She turns her face to look at him. They are so close she can see the dirt and grime, the rash on his cheek and the beginnings of several bruises. But, most of all, she can lose herself for a second in those eyes, pleading her to move and follow him.
Ada can’t find it in herself to deny him a third time, so she simply sighs and locks her grip around him to regain some balance. Limping, they both close the distance between them and the elevator. Its glass doors opens swiftly, allowing them to get inside in one quick motion.
Leon gently helps her to sit down against the railing. With one bump, the lift starts to move down, isolating them from the noise up in the laboratory. There’s no feminine voice shouting the same instructions in a monotone voice, just the vibration that comes from the elevator itself.
They are exhaling hastily, and Ada can see drops of sweat pouring from Leon’s face as he glares outside the glass walls with bewilderment. She chews her lip, palms pressed against her aching thigh.
Taking a deep lungful of air, she braves another protest.
“Leon, this is impossible. We’re not going to make it like this,” her voice quivers, almost unrecognizable.
He doesn’t move, kneeled next to her, eyes fixed on a distant point. He purses his lips and massages his temples, as if lost in thought. He has to know she is right. There’s no other way. The ride is probably coming to an end, and Ada needs to make him understand. This cannot end with him pointlessly dying for her.
“I’m not worth your sacrifice, Leon, so please—” She says it, finally. She begs him to let her go, hopelessly wanting it to work.
It doesn’t.
Suddenly, Leon cups her face with his hands, staring at her with fear and resolve. It’s frightening and endearing, thumbs grazing her cheeks, all of them covered in filth and dry blood.
“You trust me?” he bluntly asks.
Ada scoffs. “Leon, that’s not…”
“Do you trust me, Ada?” he cuts her off, her following silence an implicit agreement of what she already confessed in the cable car. She also remembers his lack of a reply back then, the seed of doubt already planted in his mind. Probably the first sign of how much she had messed up her cover—everything.
(The funny thing is, failing the mission is not what bothers her here—it’s breaking that frail thing between them, grown in the streets of a fallen city and its rotten belly. She doesn’t dare to name it.)
Ada wants to argue, but there’s no rebuttal ready in her throat. She can’t help to smirk tiredly, her head shaking.
“God, you’re one stubborn ass.”
He snorts, flashing a toothy smile at her.
“Well, and the lady doth protest too much.”
Of course, he can recite Shakespeare. She can picture him in high-school, taking notes diligently in his literature class and acing his exams. The damn, stupid boy has no right to be this charming when they’re about to die, after having lived the worst night of their lives, Ada thinks.
The elevator bumps slightly, which is the signal for them to keep moving. Leon stands up, offering his hand once more. Ada takes it willingly this time, as they exit the cubicle and look around them. It looks like a monitoring room, almost clean and untouched, as if no scientist had managed to escape the lab after the outbreak. Which probably means their ride out of this hell is still available. She is no optimist, but there is a measure of comfort in that thought—even if it’s just so Leon’s hope doesn’t go to waste.
They walk together, as rushed as their (her) injuries allow them. Ada is more certain now than ever that she is slowing him down, which feels like a stab to her chest. Her train of thought is lost when a monitor’s image startles and it piques Leon’s interest. He approaches them closer to the panels, grip still firm around her waist, while her arm remains draped around his shoulders for leverage. She tries as much as she can not to lean on the left one.
“Who’s that?” he wonders, glaring at the monitor.
The footage clears up enough that a young woman’s silhouette can be distinguished. Ada sees sudden relief in Leon’s eyes, as he recognises her.
“Claire!”
“Leon? You’re down here too!” she says, although her voice sounds broken because of the interferences.
Ada doesn’t know their history, though she can pretty much picture Leon helping any civilian he might have encountered on his way through Raccoon City, before their meeting.
“Yeah. But the whole place is coming down,” Leon answers, almost frustrated. “Listen to me. You need to get out. Fast!”
There’s some delay between their exchange, and Claire seems to check something beyond her screen.
“Yeah, there’s a way out,” she states. “We can make it. Where are you know?”
The image is blurring, sound coming on and off. Leon leans a bit into the screen, and Ada can sense his muscles tensing up. She would envy his drive to save people, if it didn’t lead to so much frustration and disappointment. Sadly, Leon will learn one day he can never save everybody. Tonight he is making his best to avoid that lesson.
“Claire, you still there?!” he shouts, desperately.
“Leon? Hey, Leon, you’re breaking up…”
His fist smashes the panel, and Ada can feel his grab tightening around her waist.
“Forget about me! Just get out of here!” he barks to the monitor. “Damnit!”
Ada is no good at comforting, but she doesn’t have to pretend in this situation. Time is running out and they can’t waste any more, so she simply gives a light squeeze on his right shoulder.
“She said there’s a way out, right? We have to go,” she states, gaining back some of her composure.
Leon nods, lips in a thin line.
-
He’s panting, as if his lungs have been out of breath for hours.
Fuck this thing, fuck Umbrella, fuck all.
Glancing up, Leon watches Ada come down from the walkway where she had suddenly disappeared after the monster had leapt on the lift. For a fraction of a second, Leon feared she would have simply abandoned him. The way she had managed to dodge that thing’s hit was almost unbelievable, with the injury in her leg. But Ada had done it and, minutes later, she was throwing him a heavy box with a rocket launcher.
Then it all ended, fucking finally.
Leon strides towards her. The lift keeps going down, and the walkway is getting higher and higher.
“Ada!” he yells, his voice shaking, fearful she might just have given up already. He really, really wishes that’s not what’s happening here—and he doesn’t even understand why he needs it so badly. To save her.
That’s something he would have to consider after they make it out alive. If they make it out.
But then she’s jumping off the ledge. Leon thanks his fast reflexes, because he’s able to catch her before her leg stomps against the floor. It’s still painful, her face contorting in a grimace, while her hands go back around her thigh.
“Shit,” she mutters, gasping. “Leon, this is not going to… My leg…” It comes out almost like a whimper, a sound he can’t even begin to associate with her.
And she keeps insisting on being left behind.
“Shut up, I’ve got you, ok?” he snaps, helping her regain some balance, his hands on each side of her waist. “I’ll carry you.”
She shakes her head immediately, eyes closed, and sucks her lips to repress a groan.
“No, no, no way,” Ada insists. “Let’s go, come on.”
Leon helps her walk, gently pushing her out of the lift. A quick look to their surroundings reveals the only way is to their right, the rest of the area crumbling and packed with abandoned machinery and construction materials. He has to contain a sigh of relief as the doors open to show a train platform.
This has to be the way out Claire mentioned, and he hopes she has managed to get out safely.
As they approach the rail, Ada’s limping getting worse, girders start falling down on them, followed by the hissing sound of the train as it enters the platform.
“We gotta get out,” he rushes, hurrying up his pace. A groan leaves Ada’s mouth, her borrow furrowed in pain. “Just one more push, Ada.”
Nodding, she manages to meet his steps. Then Leon turns his head to look at her, and maybe it’s the adrenaline talking, but he knows it in his gut they’re going to make it. He stops for a second, untangling himself from Ada and placing her arms around his torso.
Not knowing where it comes from, he finds himself giving her a confident nod.
“Hold tight!”
Before allowing her a moment of doubt, he jumps into the train and grabs one of the handles for dear life. Her arms tighten around him and he can almost swear she lets out a cry, drown in the uproar and noises that surround them.
And Leon lifts both their weights combined, his hands clung to the bar with all the strength he can muster, muscles straining in pain. He doesn’t know how he is pulling it off, to be honest—maybe it's sheer adrenaline, maybe it's something more, like his refusal to let Ada die. She can’t die now, not when he just glimpsed the woman behind the mask, not when he couldn't save anyone else. In a way, he's doing this for himself as much as he's doing it for her. Feeling like every bone in his shoulder is shattering to pieces, he propels both of them as close as he can to the ledge between cars.
He succeeds, against all odds.
They tumble down, the air ruffling their hair and clothes as they are swayed by the rocking of the train. In one blink, they’re inside a tunnel, and the fire in the lab seems like a distant dream.
Struggling for breath, both of them take a few seconds to inhale and exhale. Leon places his hand over his shoulder, still sore. It will probably hurt so much more later, but at least it doesn’t look completely broken, he thinks. He can’t help a sigh of relief.
They have made it. Both of them.
Taking a glimpse beside him, Leon can’t barely believe Ada is here. Next to him.
Half an hour ago, they were pointing guns at each other, the truth of her intentions hanging like dirty laundry. Against all common sense, he had trusted his gut, maybe foolishly—but his gamble paid off, and he was proven right.
Leon gulps, wetting his lips, and sighs again. She’s still coughing, grimacing with every spasm of her body. Just as much as his shoulder hurts, her leg must as well. Her gaze raises up, meeting his. Leon realises he must’ve been staring at her.
He’s probably wearing a little smile too, making him look like a dork. But he can’t control himself—too tired and too done with everything.
Ada doesn’t really smile back, but there’s the ghost of one at the corner of her lips.
It takes that simple gesture for Leon to know that everything has been worth it.