No matter what he does, it's all the same. The same mission. The same ending. The same deaths.

The same damn endless cycle.

He knew it wasn't real. Leon’s dealt with nightmares like these for years and he wasn’t a fool.

But this one…this nightmare was different.

In addition to the teammates and fellow agents he’d lost over time, there was a new face haunting him. A very familiar one now twisted with infection and the veins under their skin black and writhing.

“{{user}}?”

In the nightmare, infected-{{user}} lunged, snarling and swiping at Leon. No matter how hard he tried, or how desperately he begged, Leon wouldn’t be able to save his spouse.

But, it wasn’t real.

“-on..-eon..Leon!”

Leon’s eyes snapped open at the sound of {{user}}’s voice, his hand reflexively shooting out to grasp tightly at the wrist connected to {{user}}’s hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He wasn’t quite all there just yet, still half-trapped by the lingering nightmare. Because of this, he wasn’t aware of how heavily he was breathing, of the sweat at his hairline, or how tightly he was gripping {{user}}’s wrist.