M Y . S K I N
Title: M Y . S K I N
Fandom: Resident Evil
Rating: PG
Genre: Tragedy/Romance
Pairing(s): Leon S. Kennedy x Ada Wong
Format: one-shot
Summary: Ada is pained by the loss of Leon. She doesn't want to have to face what is left behind.
Outside, the wind howls and whips the trees. Violent and vengeful. Vengeful for what?
Meticulous hands skim across the thin glass surface A smiling face stares out at her, a face that would never look upon her again Not that this face ever really smiled at her Well, maybe once in her lifeher backstabbing, deceitful, dangerous life. She grips the wooden frame with newfound hatred. It is an acidic gurgling in her throat, a raging lion in her chest. It tears at the brittle stitches of her heart, exposing the raw and bleeding flesh there. Torment. Self-loathing. It feasts upon her like a buzzard picking and clawing at a rotting carcass.
All her fault. Everything had been her fault. She'd tried to push him away. She tried to show him what a heartless bitch she is. But, he never believed it. He he never gave up on her. After everything, he still thought that she'd been worth his time and effort his life. Tears sting the backs of her bloodshot eyes and she looks away from the picture in the frame, focusing her gaze on the sallow and broken individual in the mirror; the individual who selfishly loved and condemned the only thing that had brought any kind of hope into her life.
Her PDA vibrates to life on the dresser opposite the bed she is sitting on. Her fingers are stiff and aching as she retrieves it. She doesn't even bother to set the picture back onto the nightstand and it falls to the floor, the sound of splintering glass not even fazing her. She clicks the button to connect. A familiar face pops up on the small screen, angular, aloof, and a bit concerned. She doesn't even have the strength to feel indignant at the realization of his empathy.
"What are you gonna do about the boy?"
She looks beyond him for a moment, reliving a secret memory. It had been seven years ago, just three months after the Spain incident. She hadn't expected it to happen, not that she regretted it. She'd just gone to see what he'd been up to, how he was handling all the press after the rescue of the president's daughter. She'd found him asleep on his living room couch, the TV remote dangling precariously in his hand and a bowl of popcorn slowly sliding off his chest. The sight had been too much not to approach him. He'd seemed so cute with his hair in a dampened mess and his lips slightly parted. She remembered the smell of his skin clearlyfreshly showered with a hint of spice. He'd woken to her surprise. No words had been spoken. He'd grabbed her before she could run. When she'd tasted his lips again, she knew she couldn't run away that night.
"Hey you there?" the agent's voice shakes her memories to dissipating ashes.
She glares down at the screen. "Yeah."
"What are you gonna do about the boy?"
The boy The boy with his eyes, with his smile the boy who is his. The tears are threatening again, their razor-sharp persistence prickling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows hard. "I'll go after him."
"The foster family is named Hinderson. They are located in Phoenix, Arizona. I've sent you the rest of the information via e-mail." He pauses for a moment, his eyes softening. "For what it's worth, the world owes you both for what you'd done that day. We owe all of"
She ends the call instantly, the screen going black and the cancerous anger permeating her veins. Owes us? How many lives had been taken that day? How many innocent lives had been snuffed out like the wicks of candles? Good people. Ordinary man and women willing to risk it all, just for something as fickle as the selfish world. That's what he had believed. Her heart twists painfully. Despite everything, he'd still believed. She'd believed, too once.
She stands, her muscles protesting miserably. The wind's howling is getting louder, more relentless. A distant clap of rumbling thunder causes the ground to tremble. She glances down at the upturned frame. The glass itself seemed so delicate, fractured into four different mirrors of her blank face. His own smiling face is still staring at her, no accusation anywhere in his sharp blue eyes.
"Why didn't you ever blame me?" She snarls, choking back a sob. "You never blamed me. Not even when Why did you always believe in me? Why?"
Despite it all despite everything he had trusted her. She grits her teeth, holding back a scream, and smashes her boot onto the frame, the four pieces turning into forty jagged and mixed up reflections of her weeping face.
"Leon!" The name is wrenched from her gut and she collapses to her knees. "Damn you for finding me in that hell all those years ago. Damn you! Damn you for making me feel human again " She succumbs completely to tears, her arms wrapping tightly around her shivering form. "Damn you for being you." She tastes the overwhelming flavor of bitter salt, hot and faintly sweet. "I love you."
She hadn't told him about the boy. She'd planned on telling him after all this. She hadn't expected a happy ending, but she'd hoped for one. Thenshe jerks her head from side to side, trying desperately to rid the memories of his bloodstained face from her mind. They only intensify, his final words echoing in her ears like a mocking cacophony of sound. Deafening. Agonizing. The last time she'd ever hear him say her name, the last time she'd ever see her reflection in those fathomless blues, the last time she'd felt her heart beat.
Hope. It's a perilous emotion. Fear. Another perilous, but sometimes useful emotion. She chokes pathetically, snot and tears dribbling down her chin. For the moment, she doesn't even care to wipe it away with the sleeve of her blouse. So this is what loss truly feels like. Ada Wong hadn't even cried at her parents' funerals. They hadn't exactly been the all-American mom and dad, but she'd still loved them. At least, that was the closest thing to love she'd experienced until The thought of his name strangles her heart in a vice grip and she coughs weakly, her breaths coming in gasping heaves.
She didn't want to go to the boy. She could not bear to see him. She'd kept him a secret, even from herself. She could just not go. She could leave him with the family he knows. He had no knowledge of her. She could just stay here. Fear. Perilous, but useful sometimes debilitating. She bites her lower lip harshly. In all her years, she'd never feared anything. Well, that's what she told herself, but the truth is she feared the most simple of things. Loving and being loved in returned.
She doesn't even hear the sound of her front door being opened or the stranger coming to her room. "You're not going to go." Claire Redfield.
She turns her face away from the young woman, trying in vain to hide her vulnerability. "I I am going."
Claire enters the room and sits on the bed, her hands folding in her lap. "You know my brother died, too." Her voice is strained.
"I know "
"You know, Ada"
"My real name isn't Ada." She interrupts.
"Leon called you Ada." Claire replies.
"Yes Don't do it again." She gets to her feet and wipes the evidence of her sorrow away.
Claire breathes evenly. "You're not alone, Ada." She gets up and starts walking toward her. "My brother was the only family I had left. He I don't know what to do now that he's gone that Jill's gone."
"Please... don't call me Ada." Any steel that had been in her voice has vanished.
Claire comes to stand before her. "All these past events, these lies, Umbrella, TerraSave, the manipulation, the crookednessyou know all of it doesn't account for shit. It's all meaningless. It took my brother dying for me to figure that out." She looks away, her eyes watering. "Ada Leon loved you so much."
No don't She tries to walk away, but Claire stops her.
"Listen to me, as one individual to another." Claire closes her eyes momentarily. "I know about your son, Ada."
She is stunned, but "Please don't call me"
"Listen to me!" Claire whispers sharply, barely able to hold back her own tears. "I have nothing left of my brother, or Jill. They are both gone." Her chin trembles. "I all I have are my memories of them and just a few photos. You you have a a flesh-and-blood child. You still have a piece of the one you love." A solitary tear trickles down her cheek.
She looks away, powerless to stop the onslaught of tears again. Fear Pain "Claire I "
"Now, go take a shower and get dressed. I'm driving you to the airport." Claire smiles sadly, her blue eyes darkened from her own tears. "I'll be waiting in the living room."
Ada stands there as Claire walks away, her vision blurry and her heart tightening. Afraid How can she look into that boy's eyes and not see Leon? How could she enjoy that boy's smile, when it's Leon's smile? She grips her face, wanting more than anything to scream, to tear into something, to just be on her own, wielding her gun and not experiencing these emotions only normal people would endure. Not her not the nameless bitch in red. She was no one. She'd liked it that way.
Then somehow, someway she had become something to someone. Not just something she had become Ada Wong. She digs her nails into her cheek. She'd never seen herself as mother material. A quivering sigh exits her lips and she drops her hands. She still had a piece of the one she loves.
Fandom: Resident Evil
Rating: PG
Genre: Tragedy/Romance
Pairing(s): Leon S. Kennedy x Ada Wong
Format: one-shot
Summary: Ada is pained by the loss of Leon. She doesn't want to have to face what is left behind.
Outside, the wind howls and whips the trees. Violent and vengeful. Vengeful for what?
Meticulous hands skim across the thin glass surface A smiling face stares out at her, a face that would never look upon her again Not that this face ever really smiled at her Well, maybe once in her lifeher backstabbing, deceitful, dangerous life. She grips the wooden frame with newfound hatred. It is an acidic gurgling in her throat, a raging lion in her chest. It tears at the brittle stitches of her heart, exposing the raw and bleeding flesh there. Torment. Self-loathing. It feasts upon her like a buzzard picking and clawing at a rotting carcass.
All her fault. Everything had been her fault. She'd tried to push him away. She tried to show him what a heartless bitch she is. But, he never believed it. He he never gave up on her. After everything, he still thought that she'd been worth his time and effort his life. Tears sting the backs of her bloodshot eyes and she looks away from the picture in the frame, focusing her gaze on the sallow and broken individual in the mirror; the individual who selfishly loved and condemned the only thing that had brought any kind of hope into her life.
Her PDA vibrates to life on the dresser opposite the bed she is sitting on. Her fingers are stiff and aching as she retrieves it. She doesn't even bother to set the picture back onto the nightstand and it falls to the floor, the sound of splintering glass not even fazing her. She clicks the button to connect. A familiar face pops up on the small screen, angular, aloof, and a bit concerned. She doesn't even have the strength to feel indignant at the realization of his empathy.
"What are you gonna do about the boy?"
She looks beyond him for a moment, reliving a secret memory. It had been seven years ago, just three months after the Spain incident. She hadn't expected it to happen, not that she regretted it. She'd just gone to see what he'd been up to, how he was handling all the press after the rescue of the president's daughter. She'd found him asleep on his living room couch, the TV remote dangling precariously in his hand and a bowl of popcorn slowly sliding off his chest. The sight had been too much not to approach him. He'd seemed so cute with his hair in a dampened mess and his lips slightly parted. She remembered the smell of his skin clearlyfreshly showered with a hint of spice. He'd woken to her surprise. No words had been spoken. He'd grabbed her before she could run. When she'd tasted his lips again, she knew she couldn't run away that night.
"Hey you there?" the agent's voice shakes her memories to dissipating ashes.
She glares down at the screen. "Yeah."
"What are you gonna do about the boy?"
The boy The boy with his eyes, with his smile the boy who is his. The tears are threatening again, their razor-sharp persistence prickling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows hard. "I'll go after him."
"The foster family is named Hinderson. They are located in Phoenix, Arizona. I've sent you the rest of the information via e-mail." He pauses for a moment, his eyes softening. "For what it's worth, the world owes you both for what you'd done that day. We owe all of"
She ends the call instantly, the screen going black and the cancerous anger permeating her veins. Owes us? How many lives had been taken that day? How many innocent lives had been snuffed out like the wicks of candles? Good people. Ordinary man and women willing to risk it all, just for something as fickle as the selfish world. That's what he had believed. Her heart twists painfully. Despite everything, he'd still believed. She'd believed, too once.
She stands, her muscles protesting miserably. The wind's howling is getting louder, more relentless. A distant clap of rumbling thunder causes the ground to tremble. She glances down at the upturned frame. The glass itself seemed so delicate, fractured into four different mirrors of her blank face. His own smiling face is still staring at her, no accusation anywhere in his sharp blue eyes.
"Why didn't you ever blame me?" She snarls, choking back a sob. "You never blamed me. Not even when Why did you always believe in me? Why?"
Despite it all despite everything he had trusted her. She grits her teeth, holding back a scream, and smashes her boot onto the frame, the four pieces turning into forty jagged and mixed up reflections of her weeping face.
"Leon!" The name is wrenched from her gut and she collapses to her knees. "Damn you for finding me in that hell all those years ago. Damn you! Damn you for making me feel human again " She succumbs completely to tears, her arms wrapping tightly around her shivering form. "Damn you for being you." She tastes the overwhelming flavor of bitter salt, hot and faintly sweet. "I love you."
She hadn't told him about the boy. She'd planned on telling him after all this. She hadn't expected a happy ending, but she'd hoped for one. Thenshe jerks her head from side to side, trying desperately to rid the memories of his bloodstained face from her mind. They only intensify, his final words echoing in her ears like a mocking cacophony of sound. Deafening. Agonizing. The last time she'd ever hear him say her name, the last time she'd ever see her reflection in those fathomless blues, the last time she'd felt her heart beat.
Hope. It's a perilous emotion. Fear. Another perilous, but sometimes useful emotion. She chokes pathetically, snot and tears dribbling down her chin. For the moment, she doesn't even care to wipe it away with the sleeve of her blouse. So this is what loss truly feels like. Ada Wong hadn't even cried at her parents' funerals. They hadn't exactly been the all-American mom and dad, but she'd still loved them. At least, that was the closest thing to love she'd experienced until The thought of his name strangles her heart in a vice grip and she coughs weakly, her breaths coming in gasping heaves.
She didn't want to go to the boy. She could not bear to see him. She'd kept him a secret, even from herself. She could just not go. She could leave him with the family he knows. He had no knowledge of her. She could just stay here. Fear. Perilous, but useful sometimes debilitating. She bites her lower lip harshly. In all her years, she'd never feared anything. Well, that's what she told herself, but the truth is she feared the most simple of things. Loving and being loved in returned.
She doesn't even hear the sound of her front door being opened or the stranger coming to her room. "You're not going to go." Claire Redfield.
She turns her face away from the young woman, trying in vain to hide her vulnerability. "I I am going."
Claire enters the room and sits on the bed, her hands folding in her lap. "You know my brother died, too." Her voice is strained.
"I know "
"You know, Ada"
"My real name isn't Ada." She interrupts.
"Leon called you Ada." Claire replies.
"Yes Don't do it again." She gets to her feet and wipes the evidence of her sorrow away.
Claire breathes evenly. "You're not alone, Ada." She gets up and starts walking toward her. "My brother was the only family I had left. He I don't know what to do now that he's gone that Jill's gone."
"Please... don't call me Ada." Any steel that had been in her voice has vanished.
Claire comes to stand before her. "All these past events, these lies, Umbrella, TerraSave, the manipulation, the crookednessyou know all of it doesn't account for shit. It's all meaningless. It took my brother dying for me to figure that out." She looks away, her eyes watering. "Ada Leon loved you so much."
No don't She tries to walk away, but Claire stops her.
"Listen to me, as one individual to another." Claire closes her eyes momentarily. "I know about your son, Ada."
She is stunned, but "Please don't call me"
"Listen to me!" Claire whispers sharply, barely able to hold back her own tears. "I have nothing left of my brother, or Jill. They are both gone." Her chin trembles. "I all I have are my memories of them and just a few photos. You you have a a flesh-and-blood child. You still have a piece of the one you love." A solitary tear trickles down her cheek.
She looks away, powerless to stop the onslaught of tears again. Fear Pain "Claire I "
"Now, go take a shower and get dressed. I'm driving you to the airport." Claire smiles sadly, her blue eyes darkened from her own tears. "I'll be waiting in the living room."
Ada stands there as Claire walks away, her vision blurry and her heart tightening. Afraid How can she look into that boy's eyes and not see Leon? How could she enjoy that boy's smile, when it's Leon's smile? She grips her face, wanting more than anything to scream, to tear into something, to just be on her own, wielding her gun and not experiencing these emotions only normal people would endure. Not her not the nameless bitch in red. She was no one. She'd liked it that way.
Then somehow, someway she had become something to someone. Not just something she had become Ada Wong. She digs her nails into her cheek. She'd never seen herself as mother material. A quivering sigh exits her lips and she drops her hands. She still had a piece of the one she loves.