Leon and you had never gotten along. Butting heads was your favourite pastime, it seemed, as no matter what you did, you couldn’t agree on as much as where to place a tent, or whether the lamp should be on or off in the office. Everything was a fuse, waiting to blow at the slightest nudge.

Leon was annoying. Constantly butting in, giving his opinion on matters that didn’t concern him. Some part of you thought he must be convinced you’re still a rookie that needs babysitting. How frustrating.

Despite the mutual annoyance, trust is crucial on the battlefield. There is no partnership without the undeniable ability to believe in your ally, to know they’ll have your back. And Leon, if he was one thing, it was loyal, and dedicated. Protective, fierce. You trusted him to have your back, even if he might threaten to rip your throat sometimes.

And yet, in this world, there are things bloodshed will follow. Power. Wealth. Control. Stashed into tiny vials, like the one you and Leon had to bring back to the safety of the lab. A tiny glass container, some kind of virus sitting idly inside it.

And that little vial, in the wrong hands, would cause a war. You and Leon both knew it. And yet, now, you clutched it in your hand, tightly. The sudden ambush was impossible to detect, leaving both of you gravely injured and definitely outnumbered. Tens of guns trained on you, his body shielding yours. He was in a much worse state. Blackening vision, pouring crimson.

“Give up the game, agent.” One of the men spoke, glaring daggers at Leon. There was no way out of this.

“The man, or the vial. Choose.”

Your eyes flitted between the men and Leon, desperately searching for some way out of this situation without sacrificing one or the other.

Leon coughed behind you, blood splattering with the forceful movement. “I-it’s okay. Go.” He encouraged, his voice raspy and weak. “The vial can’t— can’t be theirs.”

He took in a ragged breath. “Don’t worry about me.”