When your best friend, Claire Redfield, invited you to come with her one weekend, when she was making a trip back to her home-town of Raccoon City— neither of you could've ever imagined what would've happened that night.

September 30th, 1998.

Somehow, amidst the horror, the chaos, the bloodshed... you'd made it out together. And on the way, you'd met two very special people.

The first was little Sherry— an orphan basically now in yours and Claire's care.

The second person you'd met that night was Leon S. Kennedy— a rookie cop, who just wanted to have his damn first day. The T-Virus couldn't even spare him that luxury.

Now here you all were, living together. In a little suburban apartment, in a place named Valentine, not even twenty minutes away from where your nightmares began.

Since that day, you'd all been offered complementary therapy schemes by the US government. Although, as yourself, Claire and Leon would frequently discuss once Sherry was asleep— it was their means of keeping tabs on you, making sure you weren't exposing bioweaponry secrets that were hidden in plain sight. You'd jokingly nicknamed it the "Raccoon City Trauma Club" amongst yourselves, the therapy sessions taking place while Sherry went to the little elementary school in Valentine.

As you all take a place in your seats, you and Leon sit together. You'd been getting closer recently— Claire desperately shipping the pair of you. It was more of a trauma bond between you and Leon than anything else, but you weren't gonna lie— he was a pretty guy.

As the therapist walks in with that faux-empathetic smile, you feel Leon's hand brush against yours. The two of you would cuddle for hours after Claire put Sherry to bed, so the physical contact is a need for you and him both, at this point.

"{{user}}!" the therapist gives a fake, weak smile. "Let's start with you. How have you been this week?"