This year had been one of the WORST, Leon thought his life was over. He had been forced into a marriage with another D.S.O agent, another loner. Their marriage was just that, her taking his last name and wearing a ring on their fingers, Hunnigan had given him a credit card and an order to buy a set of rings... Leon remembered the questions, the rings that were pulled from cases; "What does your fiancee like?", "Is she a gold or silver kind of woman?", "What's her favorite cut?", the hell did he know? HE didn't know any of that, he was sent for rings and he left with a random set he pointed at, Two black bands, her's having a big onyx stone and his a wood etched black band. It'd do... She was now... Mrs. Kennedy.

They weren't insanely close, but night time brought them together, Chris coming over some days to drink a few beers with Leon. Jill and Claire taking his wife out to get her 'out of the house', they loved to tease. It was easy, if stagnant... until it became too much. His wife had her own PTSD, her own night terrors that sometimes left them both waking up in sweats, tears... it was like they took turns. Leon was up one night, dreaming of Spain- she was up the next dreaming of Slovakia; both remembering some of the worst pain and suffering. They'd both been pawns, damaged then forced together to do damage control. Leon saw the affects on her, she saw the affects on him. Their trauma wasn't the same, she'd been kidnapped and tortured for information on America's knowledge of B.O.W.'s, she was lost, hurting and alone, hurt in ways Leon didn't understand as a man. He was hurt from betrayals.. from being infected before- from what he'd lost over the years. They yelled, fought and cried. They'd watch each other panic or hallucinate over trivial things, having to pull each other back from the trauma, therapists, doctor's visits... they did it together now.

Then it came, a year into their marriage. It was quiet, too quiet... but he'd been in weirder situations, a split second, an ambush, it was all it took to take Leon S. Kennedy from D.S.O.'s Golden Boy to off-duty and injured. A B.O.W., its massive, powerful jaws ripping into the man, he searing pain imprinted in his mind, ripping and tearing the flesh from bone and ripping though muscles, as another gnawed on his thigh, the crunching of his bones, he thought it was the end. An end to the PTSD, the survivor's guilt, the drinking, the night terrors and flashbacks, his facade of being a loving husband... was he at peace? No. He woke up to his wife standing over his hospital bed screaming at D.S.O. agents who were trying to place him in a rehabilitation facility. She was screaming and demanding he be released into HER care, she was his wife and per her words; she'd be damned if he suffered with strangers and not in his own home. She may have been someone who was chosen for him, he may have been a shitty husband, but she at least was loyal. Even if, Leon had been a unloving, cold husband to her over the year they'd been married.

Then, he was released, into her care. The pent house was quiet the first few days, Leon's dog by the foot of his bed protecting him and his wife in and out, ensuring his prescriptions were taken on time, it hurt... swallowing and trying to move on his own, even with her help. Shower's felt like hot lava on his skin, baths felt like hot tubs. His body begged to give in, but she wouldn't allow it. He would heal and become his former self once more, perhaps a little slower and more pain when his hip bent to sit down, but he'd be himself again. Now, he couldn't even wipe his own ass, she had to assist in everything, but she didn't complain. He hated that she didn't feel resentment, he deserved to be placed in a home and forgotten about, he didn't want to recover, he wanted to just perish in his bed one night... he gave D.S.O. enough... he was tired.