Work Text:
The air in the derelict Raccoon City subway tunnels filled his lungs with the smell of ozone and decay. For Leon S. Kennedy, now 49 and weary down to his very marrow, this new virus had been just another bio-organic nightmare to contain. But this strain didn't just liquefy organs, it tore at the fabric of causality itself. One moment, Leon was navigating a high-tech lab in 2026. The next, the flickering fluorescent lights gave way to the humid, claustrophobic heat of 1998.
He rounded a rusted corner, his hand instinctively hovering over his holster, and froze.
Standing by a control console was a woman in a red cocktail dress. She was sleek, sharp-edged, and impossibly young (and devastatingly adorable, he noted).
Ada Wong turned, her movements fluid and predatory, her pistol already leveled at his chest. But as her eyes swept over him, she didn't fire. She hesitated, her brow furrowing in a rare display of confusion.
"You," she whispered. Her voice was the same, cool velvet he always remembered. "You’re wearing an agent’s tactical gear. Who are you? Where is the rookie?"
Leon felt a physical ache in his chest. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his heavy combat boots echoing against the concrete. The gray at his temples caught the light, and the deep lines around his eyes crinkled as he let out a breath he felt he’d been holding for thirty years.
"I'm a ghost, Ada," Leon said, his voice raspy and much deeper than the one she knew. "Or a warning. Take your pick."
“How do you know my name? Who exactly are you?” Ada didn't lower her weapon. She circled him like a cat, her frown deepened as her eyes scanned the tech on his vest, the wear on his holster, and the grim, seasoned set of his jaw.
"You have his eyes. But you look like you’ve walked through hell and decided to stay there."
"I did...” He reached out,"…and you were there for most of it."
"I don't know you, 'Ghost,'" she snapped, though her hand trembled slightly. "I’m looking for a cop. A naive one who thinks he can save everyone. Have you seen him?"
Leon gave a sad, knowing smirk. “He grew up, Ada. He realized that the world doesn't want to be saved, but he kept trying anyway because he’s an idiot."
The reality glitch shimmered around them, the walls of the tunnel blurring into a digital haze. Leon knew his time was short. The bridge between 2026 and 1998 was collapsing.
Before she could retreat into her usual shell of cynicism, Leon closed the distance. He didn't care about the gun or the mission. He stepped into her space and pulled her into a crushing, desperate embrace.
Ada stiffened, her breath hitching. For a woman who survived on distance, this level of intimacy was a violation, yet she didn't pull away. She felt the incredible strength in his arms and the way he buried his face into her shoulder as if he were seeking a sanctuary he hadn't seen for a while.
"You—”, her brain screamed to push him away, but her heart commanded her to just stay put for once.
"Just for a second," he murmured against her hair. "Just let me hold the version of you that hadn't broken my heart a dozen times yet."
Ada slowly let her gun drop to her side. Her other hand rose, hesitantly at first, then firmly, gripping the back of his heavy tactical jacket.
"You look tired," she whispered, her voice softening into something almost vulnerable. "Does it ever get easier? Between us?"
Leon pulled back just enough to look into those dark, calculating eyes that took his heart the moment he saw them.
He reached up, his calloused thumb brushing her cheekbone. "No. It gets harder. We spend the next thirty years chasing each other through burning cities. You leave, I follow. I leave, you find me. It’s a mess, Ada. A beautiful, exhausting mess."
"Sounds like a waste of time," she said, though she didn't let go.
"It’s the only thing that kept us human," Leon countered.
The air began to scream, a high-pitched digital whine as the timeline prepared to snap back. The edges of Leon’s form began to pixelate, his silhouette flickering.
"Wait," Ada said, her fingers tightening on his vest. She looked up at this older, scarred version of the man she had only just met, seeing the weight of the world on his shoulders. "If you’re him... tell me one thing. Is it worth it? The running? The lies?"
Leon smiled, and for a moment, the weary soldier vanished, replaced by a glimpse of the boy she’d met in the parking garage hours before. He leaned down, pressing a lingering, bittersweet kiss to her forehead.
"Every second," he whispered. "When you see the kid again... go easy on him. He’s going to love you for a very long time."
He urged her to remove the leather glove on his left hand. The glint of a platinum band on his ring finger winked at her before a flash of white light enveloped her surroundings.
When Ada’s vision cleared, the tunnel was quiet again. The smell of ozone was gone, replaced by the damp stench of the sewers. She stood alone, her arms still positioned as if holding someone who was no longer there.
She looked down at her hand. There was a faint smudge of dirt from a glove that shouldn't exist yet. The image of the ring burned in her mind.
"A beautiful mess…" she repeated to the empty air, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"…but, married?" the word feeling foreign and heavy on her tongue. She thought of her life, her employers, and the tangled web of betrayals she had already woven for the night ahead. The idea of permanence—of a home, a name, and a ring—seemed like the most impossible mission she had ever heard of. And yet, she had seen the look in that older man's eyes. It wasn't the look of a man who had spent thirty years in a tragedy; it was the look of a man who had finally won.
"You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” she murmured, her voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and a newfound, terrifying hope.
She holstered her gun and checked her reflection in a puddle, adjusting her hair. "Well, I suppose I should go find that rookie.”
"I’d hate to keep my husband waiting."