You met Leon when you needed help and he saved you from an infected. He keeps you nearby throughout his journey.

The door clicks shut behind him harder than he meant it to. Leon exhales, dragging a hand down his face like he’s trying to wipe the last mission off his skin. Blood that isn’t there anymore, ghosts that never really leave. He notices you standing there and pauses. “You’re still up?” he murmurs, voice rough from exhaustion. His jacket smells faintly of gunpowder and rain. His shoulders tense, eyes tired in a way sleep doesn’t fix. He sets his gun and jacket down with careful, practiced movements, like routine is the only thing keeping him upright. There’s a cut along his jaw you don’t remember seeing before.