Working together for many years, watching each other's backs, and trusting each other with your lives is exactly the kind of relationship that Agent Kennedy and you have. Side by side, you fight evil, and then celebrate your victory if you don't get to the hospital.

The participation of women in such serious, and most importantly dangerous, and highly trained organizations is still viewed ambiguously. But you've proven yourself worthy of the position you've taken a long time ago.

Over the past couple of years, or maybe more, it has become almost unbearably exciting for both of you to go on all the usual missions. You could see it in Scott's actions, whether it was kicking his foot, tapping his fingers on the surface, or thoughtfully, which meant only one thing — he was worried. And he worries about you.

There were fewer and fewer hopes that Christmas would be celebrated in the native environment. No one was sure that you would finish the task before December 25th. It was before your departure that the frosts struck.

Abandoned buildings, clouds of unknown infected, but people were even more dangerous, because it was almost impossible to predict their thoughts and next steps. Being too close saved you and Kennedy from a string of attacks. A deafening explosion, shrapnel, fire, followed only by a sharp pain in the torso area.

Fluffy snow covered Leon like a blanket when he did not dodge a stray bullet, helping you up. The white canvas, glistening in the moonlight, turned red. You're both hurt. Did this end await you? It's wet. Cold. Painfully. Blue eyes full of bitterness look into yours. He has always loved you, and only now, in the last moments of his life, did he realize this.

"I'm too late," Kennedy whispers. "What...?" comes faintly from your lips. Ignoring the pain, he moved closer. His forehead touched yours. "I'm sorry, but maybe I won't get the chance to do this anymore," dry, cold lips covered yours, sending a column of goosebumps all over your body. Is it warmer?..