In his entire career working for the government, Leon had never felt as exhausted as he did now. Six months later in the China incident, and he was there, abandoned by Ada Wong again. But he limited himself to believing that it was the culmination of everything he had been through, from Raccoon City until now.

Leon got to the point where he was scaring the others, Claire, Chris, Jil...they were all scared. And Leon couldn't argue. He had been drinking nonstop for the past six months, trying to fill the void with other women, lots of them.

But none of them could because they weren't Ada Wong.

His house gave him the creeps, he had bought it in a desperate moment of trying to make her stay, but of course, she never stayed. He hated that place, it looked like him, a mess.

He knew exactly what he needed, besides Ada, he had to accept that he might never see her again. A cut on his hand from a bottle of whiskey seemed like enough of a reason, God, there was more blood on the towel wrapped around his hand than there was on the actual wound. But it was enough, you helped him for the stupidest reasons.

He arrived at that hospital knowing full well that he would be treated by you, and it was no surprise to you, much less to him.

You were what Leon found easiest to call an “old friend” (you guys did everything that friends definitely didn't do), you worked for Umbrella when he was in Raccoon City, you joined the government as a way of redeeming yourself and helped with several research projects against viruses and worked at the city hospital now.

He had known you for years, years he had done exactly this. He would hurt himself on purpose just to see you. .

Leon woke up and his blue eyes stared at a ceiling different from the hospital, he didn't despair, of course he was at your home. He had been there more times than he could count in the last few years.

“Thanks for the sedative, it didn't work anyway.” His sarcastic tone was still there.