Chapter Text
Pretty Little Toy Soldiers
Being nothing but broken shards and empty space means I don't crack. I don't crumble. I have no structure to press against - you can grind me into a powder and it's still me, still here - “Dust”
---
He could smell smoke.
That was the first, fleeting thought through Leon’s mind as he rolled over, spitting black and red tinged saliva into the snow around his face.
He lifted his arms, gloved hands attempting to push himself up only to have them sink, the snow giving under him, refusing to grant him a purchase in which to leverage his body weight.
A shift of his hips and his whole body sank, causing him to still. He was bleeding, probably broken, face first in a snow field with smoke around him…this didn't bode well for survival.
He twisted his neck, hissing sharply as his whole right side screamed and went back to being one with the snow, at least able to breathe - as much as one could in the middle of a smoke path next to…he squinted…what was apparently a very large two story building in the middle of a forest that was currently doing it's best rendition of a fireball.
Right…Neo-Umbrella…warehouse…was supposed to investigate that…
He had no idea if he hadinvestigated it or why it was currently flambé'd, his brain refusing to fill in the blanks beyond screaming, pain and the unfortunately too familiar warning of another building about to self-destruct.
“Why are there always explosions - why not a nice pool of destruction?” He groaned, before spitting and drooling more blood and smoke tinged saliva into the snow, realizing that if he didn't move, the poison fog of burning chemicals and building would be more than enough.
Sadly, he was too tired, too injured and far too cold for that thought to do more than flit across his consciousness, not triggering the alarm of his higher brain functions as cold swamped over him, stealing his sight with a soft, deepening blackness as unconsciousness claimed him.
--
The grave was empty.
Well…of a body. Sherry had dug the torn and bloodied RCP uniform from a box in the back of Leon's closet and gave it to the DSO mortician handling the arrangements, nails scraping slightly over the lid as she almost tried to cling to it. Jake had to hold her, to keep her from grabbing it back as the mortician handed it off.
Claire and Chris took over the rest of the arrangements while Sherry broke down, clinging to Jake on the floor behind their chairs.
“Family?”
“Sherry Birkin, daughter.”
“Any friends to be mentioned?”
“No.”
“Funeral?”
“Just a graveside ceremony.”
“Military service-oh, never mind, I see we have full honors from the President. I will arrange that. Will you need transportation?”
“Please.”
Sherry was still clinging to Jake at the grave, her body shaking as she watched the Presidential motorcade wind its way towards them. She wanted to react, to bar the man approaching from coming near them, to scream at him - remind him that this was his fault, that everything Leon had been through since that night in Racoon City was his fault and now her father, her true father was gone, killed in action, not even a body to bury because President Adam fucking Benford decided to use a little girl against a twenty-one year old man just so he could have a toy soldier to play with.
But…she couldn't do that because her father had cared for the man. Time and familiarity breeding a friendship that has lasted two decades and as Adam stopped in front of her, Sherry saw her own grief in his eyes. Knew that pain.
She reached out, hugging him tightly, clinging to him. “I am sorry, Adam…”
“I am too, Sherry….God, I am too.”
--
“So they brought you in as well? Doesn't seem like they want this plan to succeed then.”
Ada looked over her shoulder at the man walking up behind her, red lips curling into a smirk. “Really, H.UN.K, and why would that be?”
“Let's just say our objectives don't always align,”
“Quite. Lucky for you them, I am the one who hired you,” Ada countered, tossing a data cube at the older man, a laugh escaping her at his briefly startled expression before he managed to school it back into a more neutral look. “This specimen is a bit too large for me to handle alone.”
H.U.N.K.’s gloved fingers flipped through the data, nodding. “Would be amusing to watch you attempt to get that out of the building. I take it we’re leaving reactivation for a more controlled environment?”. He slid on his mask as he spoke, his voice connecting to her earpiece, taking on a tinned, electronic quality.
“Would probably be best, all things considered. You know how grumpy he is when he wakes up.” She raised her hookshot before offering it to him. Figuring he would rather hold onto the device than her waist as they swung towards the BSAA Middle Eastern branch in Qatar.
---
“Oy, Wong!”
Ada looked up from the data cube, arching an eyebrow at H.U.N.K. who was several rows away from her before sighing. She followed the winding path to his side, clacking heels stuttering as she took in the pod he was in front of, immediately seeing what caught his eye. “Well this is…unexpected.”
“Think we might want to add him to the cargo manifest? Would fetch a shiny penny from a lot of buyers,”
Ada tapped her fingers on the screen next to the pod, scrolling through the subject’s information. “It would be…difficult to escape with two of them.”
“We were already planning on busting out of here with a seven foot tall Tyrant pod. We weren't exactly making the cleanest getaway.”
“Forklift?”
“I’ll go start her up, you get them ready “ H.U.N.K. stated, heading off to find a forklift to start transporting two B.O.W
tubes.
Ada turned back to the terminal, using her data cube to download the information on the specimen before unlatching the tube from its moorings, gently lowering it to the floor for H.U.N.K. to collect, returning to their original prize to repeat the activity.
--
“Gentle…gentle…there!”. Ada patted the pod containing the Tyrant and drew a cover over it. Blocking light from getting into the tube, turning her attention to the trunk next to the king size bed, gloved hands carefully unpacking items as the movers started gathering their materials.
“Where should we put the spare?” H.U.N.K. asked from the door, gesturing over his shoulder to the secondary tube that two movers held strapped into a dolly behind him.
Ada paused, fingers absently tracing over a nude male figurine as she thought. “The guest rooms can go into individual lock down, correct?”
H.U.N.K. nodded, running a hand over his hair, accidentally spiking it up from sweat. “Each room is fit with its own security measures and they can be rerouted to the office.”
“Then let’s give him the amber room. It's…calming.”
H.U.N.K. stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Calming,” he muttered, turning on his heel and directing the movers down to the guest quarters two decks down.
Ada returned to the unpacking, humming light as she selected an outfit, laying it out on the bed in order of dress, everything from underwear to the socks carefully tucked into the tops of freshly polished boots. While valet was not a normal job description for her, she was never one to leave a job only partially complete and besides, it wasn't every day you got to dress Albert Wesker.
---
“How long until they pop?”
Ada chased a cherry tomato around her plate as she clicked a finger across her tablet, first checking room feeds before bringing up the status tables for the two pods the pair (really the whole yacht) were waiting on. “Ten minutes ago at the earliest, tomorrow morning at the latest. Both have finished draining.”
She looked up at H.U.N.K. offering him the tomato she finally sprayed on the times of her fork.
He shook his head, a small smile on his face, but did cut off a bite sized bit of his cheeseburger, sliding it into her plate, knowing what she actually wanted. “You could have just asked for your own.”
“Yes. But what would be the fun in that?” Grinning, she cut the bite in half, savoring the tastes of the rich and fatty dinner he was indulging in, making plans to get him to for sure make more of them on a day she could eat a full meal of more calories laden food than a salad. “I sent your fee this morning.”
“I know.”
Ada blinked at this, tilting her head in silent question as she took a sip of her water.
“You have me interested, Ms. Wong. First there's Wesker. How you managed to track him down and get in - not even going to ask and I was there for part of it.”. He sipped his beer before gesturing with it towards the door. “Then, we have the stowaway. Neither will be a picnic to handle on their own, yet you have no security, a handful of lab rats and have them trapped in a luxury yacht in the middle of the Pacific which, for all its upgrades, isn't exactly the most secure ship around.”
He shifted in his seat, leaning in towards her. “So, I am interested…and concerned. Call it a freebie or call it the self interest of looking after two of my best clients, but I would rather not find out that I left this ship and you three killed each other.”
“Concern? From the great and stoic H.UN.K? I am shocked!”
H.U.NK. snorted. “Don't look into it too deep. You pay well and aren't a complete bitch,”. He shrugged, draining his beer. “Besides, I used to have a girl your age. You remind me a bit of her.’
Ada stilled for a moment, the question she wanted to ask on the top of her tongue but instead, she finished taking a bite of salad, not looking at him as he stood, heading to the security wing. H.U.N.K. paused at the door, his gloved hand resting on the cool metal, staring blankly at the wall before he looked down and back towards her, speaking to her shoes more than her. “The code name wasn't destined to be passed down the family line.“ With that, he slid on his mask and left, leaving Ada to let out a sigh for another kid lost to their work.
--
Red eyes jerked open, staring through the glass into the room beyond. A gasp echoed in the metal tube as the human took a breath for the first time in over a year.
Leon reached out, touching the glass, confusion radiating through his mind as the door popped open, allowing him free of the tube.
He stumbled out, knees hitting the blush brown carpet hard, and promptly started vomiting.
Thick black puddles gathered beneath him, inky morases of liquid and fiber that clung thickly to what it touched.
Leon collapsed onto his side, dark lines tracing over his skin, twining like vines as it wrapped around his flesh.
Somewhere, an alarm sounded, lights flashing red.