SAVEGUARD ⟼ leon s. kennedy

vii. come back

question for the reader: do you like horror films? ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

When I wake up, my body floods with panic.

I don't know where I am. Whose bed I'm in. Why it's so dark. Why it smells like death.

Then I roll over, and I catch sight of someone sitting on the floor, the top of his head visible over the duvet cover. Shiny blond hair, the colour of ash.

Leon.

I sit up, and my skin crawls. I can't believe I fell asleep in this bed. At least my shirt has dried, probably from my own body heat. I set my feet down on the floor, and rub my eyes, focusing them on the back of his head. He's playing with his combat knife, rotating it mindlessly in his fingers.

"What time is it?" I ask, my voice groggy.

"You slept for two hours," he replies, not at all startled. "It will be light soon."

"Time for you to sleep?" I say, walking up to him, and turning my flashlight on.

"I've rested enough," he says, and pulls himself up, standing right in front of me. We both take a step back, and I nod, accepting his reply, even though I don't necessarily believe him.

My stomach growls, and it sounds like a whale call in the quiet of the cabin. I open my hip pouch and get two protein bars out, and toss one to Leon.

"I'm good," he says, tossing it back.

"Take it," I say, and toss it to him, again.

He presses the bar back into my hand. I look at him in disbelief, and then shove the bar straight into his chest. "Take the fucking thing," I tell him, and only manage to look straight at him because the flashlights are pointing elsewhere. He stands there, looking down at me, and I feel his eyes on me, studying me. After a few seconds he scoffs, grabs the bar, the tips of his fingers brushing against mine.

"Do they teach being difficult at the cop academy now?" He asks, and I hear him unwrap it as I step back, ecstatic that I get to at least offer him something in this mission. To be of some use.

"Pretty sure they gave us the same training. Which is why I was going to ask the very same thing," I say, and I'm worried he can hear the smile in my voice.

"You must have aced that class," and this time, I definitely hear the change in his tone: it's light, playful.

"All worth it to make sure I keep Mr. Kennedy's nutritional needs fulfilled," I say, and I bite into the protein bar. It tastes like chalk dipped in fake chocolate sauce.

I hear the crinkle of an empty wrapper, and the click of his flashlight. He takes a last look at the body on the floor, close to where we had been tossing the protein bar between us, and he seems to remember. "Thanks," he says, and quietly moves to the door. My heart drops along with his jokey mood.

He turns the lock softly, and quietly, and I don't even have the chance to finish my bar before he's already out, checking left and right. "Good to go."

•

We walk in silence for a while. Leon looks back at me over his shoulder every now and then, as if I might disappear at any point. I jump a little less at each noise, by now more or less accustomed to the ship's creaking, the sounds it makes as it sways, the way some cabin doors slam on their own.

When we reach an opening, we stop, both of us flashing our lights at the options we're faced with. The signs read: Staff's Quarters, Gym, and First Aid.