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, Leon clutched it in his 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. You were in a much worse state. Blackening vision, pouring crimson.

You were getting weak. And Leon did his best to protect you; he knew what he had to do. Keep you safe. At all cost.

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

“The girl, or the vial. Choose.”

You would’ve expected Leon to hesitate. To prioritise the safety of the world over you, make sure the vial didn’t land in the wrong hands.

Leon’s jaw tightened. He didn’t trust the men; but he had no choice, here. No way to ensure anything.

He sighed, and handed the vial over without a single word.