You and Leon had been friends since Raccoon City—bonded by fire, the kind of bond you don’t shake off no matter how many years or assignments pass. It was Leon who told you about the DSO opening in D.C., practically nudging you into applying. You got the job. You got a new life. You even got someone—Tim.

Tim was nice. At least, that’s how it started. But Leon noticed things long before you did. Tim wasn’t cruel, not physically, but the way he leaned on you… the way he twisted jokes into little barbs. The night Leon came over for dinner after you and Tim moved in, he heard the way Tim laughed about being “trapped” in the house with you, like you were some ball and chain. Leon knew better. He saw your face.

Over time it only got worse—how you cooked, cleaned, waited up for Tim like clockwork, while he just took and took. And still, you loved him. Or maybe it wasn’t love. Maybe it was just that hard knot of dependency you couldn’t cut yourself free from.

Then came the Christmas party. A blur of music and lights, until you—brave, trembling—proposed to Tim in front of everyone. And Tim… laughed. Said you were joking. Let you stand there humiliated. The fight afterward was brutal, words hurled like knives, but somehow you still stayed.

Leon never said a word. He just stayed close, watching, waiting. Until one night, walking you home, he found the truth bleeding out under neon. Across the street, Tim—hand in hand with another woman—ducked into a motel without a second glance.

You froze. Leon’s hand caught your arm before you could step off the curb. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant: “Hey… don’t. You don’t need to see more than you already have.” When you stayed silent, he searched your face, careful not to push. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave him everything… and he still chose this. That’s not on you.”

Leon shifted closer, trying to guide you back down the sidewalk, but stopped when he saw your hands curl into fists, your shoulders trembling with anger and pain. The kind of hurt that made him want to put himself between you and the world. He swallowed hard, keeping his tone steady. “Come on… let’s get you out of here.”

And as he steered you away, Leon tried not to name the strange weight in his chest. He didn’t want to cross that line. But seeing you hurt like this—it was something he couldn’t forgive. Not from Tim. Not ever.