Work Text:
Leon arrives at your home staggering a little bit, opening the door with trembling hands. He has a headache he knows wouldn’t be that bad if he had followed Chris’s advice to not drink… but, instead, he ended up drinking more vodka that he should have.
As soon as he steps inside, he stops in the doorway, looking around as if he barely knew his very own home.
He takes a few unsteady steps toward the small table in the entryway and leaves his keys there, starting to think about why the house is much quieter than usual.
His laugh fades quickly alongside the false sense of security the alcohol in his system had given him.
When he finally dares to walk a bit farther and reaches the living room, he notices that there aren’t lights on, though there are plates and leftovers, probably from dinner, on the small table in front of the television.
What catches his attention the most is that you, his wife, aren’t curled up on the couch watching one of those stupid movies you like so much and that you always seem to be watching every time Leon comes home.
Despite these obvious signs, Leon doesn’t panic… or, at least, not as much as he probably should.
Something deep inside him tells him that the situation he’s just walked into doesn’t feel right… but what could possibly be wrong? Nothing… right?
When he goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and walks around the island, his foot catches on something and he almost ends up falling on the floor. A bit confused, he looks down to see what almost caused that accident.
His heart drops when he sees an empty box on the floor, its lid broken as if it had been thrown down on purpose with considerable force.
That’s when reality hits him hard.
His gaze shifts to the left, to the half-open trash can. Inside, an untouched cake with floral decorations and a message that no longer reads clearly, concretely a “Happy birthday!” makes a heavy pressure settle in his chest.
“Fuck, no… No, it wasn’t today… It’s tomorrow…”
Desperately, trying to figure out what he can do about it, Leon runs his hands through his hair as if that might somehow calm him down. His breathing grows more and more uneven, and he can’t take his eyes off that damn cake.
It doesn’t feel real. He can't believe that he’s actually forgotten a date as important as his wife’s birthday… your birthday.
Today’s your fucking birthday, and Leon completely forgot about that.
He tries not to panic more, trying to think about how something that was so obvious turned so suddenly into a complete nightmare for him.
Leon notices his phone lying on the counter. Quickly, he grabs it to check if you¡ve called or texted him, only to realize after trying to turn it on several times that it has no battery. He blames his drunkenness and the stress from work and his illness not only for not noticing until now that he didn’t have his phone with him, but for everything.
Yet, deep down, he’s perfectly aware that all the excuses his making for himself make no sense, and that any justification he might give you would be nothing but just fucking nonsense.
He exhales sharply, leaving the phone on the counter, and without thinking about it any further… he heads toward your bedroom.
The door’s half open, and even the light is off, he can see your figure lying on the bed with your back to him, apparently completely unaware that he’s come home.
The only sound in the room is the quiet and muffled sound of your sobs.
Leon can’t help moving a little closer, trying to do something, anything. He sees that you’re hugging a pillow, probably searching for the comfort that, clearly, he should’ve give you that day.
That’s when Leon, even though he knows he can’t do anything to improve the situation right now, decides to face the situation:.
“Love…”
You don’t answer, of course, and that hurts Leon more than the thousand words you should’ve said in that moment.
Your husband moves closer to the bed, kneeling beside you, and gently begins to stroke your face.
Not only Leon, but you also seem too surprised that you don’t pull his hand away.
“I’m so sorry…” he continues, doing his best not to lose his temper. “I swear this wasn’t my intention. I wanted to come back early, but you know how chaotic work has been these days with everything about the virus. Chris insisted we stay a little longer, and I didn’t even have my phone with me…”
“You forgot, Leon,” you reply sharply, not even looking at him, your voice filled with pain, anger, and sadness. “Jesus, Leon, you forgot my fucking birthday the moment the clock hit midnight.”
Leon falls silent.
Once again, reality makes him realize that anything he says won’t be enough.
Of course.
He sits on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out how to explain himself calmly enough to admit his mistakes while still acknowledging to you the guilt he feels.
“You know that it wasn’t my intention. With everything going on… I’ve been a little overwhelmed,” he says, lowering his gaze to his hands nervously. “I needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit to clear my head, and—”
“And doing that on my birthday, after you promised me you’d take me on a surprise trip, seemed like the best idea to you?” you interrupt, lifting your head but not looking at him.
Your eyes are completely red and swollen from crying, and Leon immediately feels even worse.
“I know perfectly well that you’re not going through a good time, and you know I’m not either. But… I also know that, until now, you’ve kept every promise you’ve made to me. Not only you forget about me… you left me here alone all day as if nothing mattered to you. As if I didn’t matter to you.”
Leon tries, once again, to find some way to save the situation, but he knows there’s nothing he can do. He’s given up… he’s tired of overthinking. He knows there’s nothing he can do about it, specially when you turn on the light and sit up in front of him…
That’s when he realizes he has no idea how to continue talking without disappointing you even more.
“You know all of this has been really difficult for me…”
“Difficult for you? Seriously?” you cut in, moving closer to him and pointing your finger at him. “And you think it’s been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, refusing to tell me what’s going on in your head… Not to mention that, apparently, you’re drinking again. I thought we’d already talked about that, Leon.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know…”
A lie.
He doesn’t know.
He knows he’s fallen back into it again… and he isn’t sure he can actually stop himself this time.
“I can’t blame you or try changing your mind because you’re right,” Leon continues. “I behaved like a complete asshole today and really, I truly am sorry. I love you, really, and much more than you think…”
“Are you sure you love me? Do you love me, or your fucking job?” the anger in your voice is unmistakable. “Because, honestly, I’ve felt for a while now that it seems like your whole fucking world revolves more around the DSO, around all that saving the world stuff—”
“Hey, listen to me—”
“No. You listen to me, Leon Kennedy,” you snap back irritably. All he can do is swallow and try to keep his composure. “Every day that passes you make it clearer and clearer that we’re not one anymore. All that marriage stuff we built, that shit of till death do us part…” you sigh. “And, hear me out, as much as it hurts me to say it… I know I’m not the only one who sees it. We’re not an us anymore.”
Your words cut deep into Leon, but he knows he deserves them.
And… that you may be right.
Fuck, you’re so fucking right…
“You know it’s not just that you forgot my birthday today, Leon. It’s everything. Not listening to me, not telling me anything… even though I know you’re dying. I want to support you, Leon, I really do. You’re my husband, but at this point… why should I keep being in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”
That hits him like a bucket of cold water.
“You don’t understand, do you?” you ask when your husband doesn’t answer. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show yourself as you are, with your flaws and your strengths. I think, deep down, and even though I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise… you’ve always done the same thing, Leon: you’ve never allowed me to fully be part of your life. At this point… did I ever really get to know the real you, or not?”
“I don’t do that, love, it’s just that—”
Even though Leon gathers the courage to speak, you cut him off. You can’t keep listening to him, not when it feels like, when you know that, he’s lying straight to your face.
“God, Leon… Yes you do!” you shout, your voice breaking. “Do you realize that, even though you’ve been with me, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Leon… Alone! I’ve tried so, so many times to talk to you, to make you see that there might be a cure for whatever it is we have, but…”
You force yourself to stop speaking.
Your throat hurts, and your head hurts even more. You don’t feel any regret about the way you’re acting toward Leon right now, but you feel pity. Pity because you know that the Leon Kennedy you once met is now more emotionally broken than ever… and there’s no way, anything you can do, for him to open up to you… his wife.
“I can’t keep giving you everything while you keep giving me nothing in return.”
“I’m sorry…”
“A simple I’m sorry doesn’t fix anything, Leon,” you say in a lower voice, bitter, but no less hurt. “I wish it’d only been today… Honestly, I feel like you’re pushing me out of your life… I feel like you’re turning into a complete stranger to me,” you admit, trying not to show weakness. “You’ve been like this for months, Leon, and I don’t know what to do to keep what we have from dying… even when we’re the ones literally dying. But, at this point, honestly… it seems like you really want us to die..”
“That’s not true,” he replies immediately. “Love, really, I love you more than you could ever imagine…”
“You sure about that? Because it feels like the exact opposite,” you ask, tears filling your eyes again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers once more, so quietly it’s almost impossible to hear. “You know I want to… but I honestly don’t know how to fix this…”
You look at him, your eyes searching on his face for some sign, some sort of a silent promise that things between you could actually change.
However, Leon’s words make you realize that you need to stop thinking positively about things really changing and, instead, you should really start being realistic.
This isn’t the fairy tale you always thought.
Perhaps, it never really was… at least, not one of those with the happiest ending ever.
“Maybe you can’t,” you confess, something inside you breaking at the sound of your words finally being out loud. “I can’t keep living like this, Leon… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not enough for you.”
“Seriously, we can keep going… This is not our ending, love… I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”
“You don’t understand, do you?” you turn toward him, looking at him for the first time since the argument began. “Things aren’t going to be fixed just by taking me out to dinner or buying me some necklace to make up for today or lately, but—”
“Love, please… I need you…”
“I can’t keep waiting and waiting for you to come back home when you’re barely you anymore, Leon. Today, even though I tried to pretend not to see it, even though I tried to let it go and not think about it and, of course, after trying to put myself in your place too many times… it was the moment I knew.”
“Love…”
“I guess that, no reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Don’t you think so?”