Words to Live by [Leon Kennedy]

sixteen. first day of the rest of your life

September 29th.

Claire's expectant gaze drilled into the side of Josephine's face as they settled at the front of the train car. Joey's hands anxiously rubbed over her thighs, attempting to calm herself, until the teen gently placed her hand on her knee.

"What is it, Josie?"

"You came here looking for Chris, right?" she asked. Claire nodded. "And you didn't find him..."

The teen's lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away. "He wasn't answering any of my calls," she revealed quietly.

Josephine nodded and reached into her back pocket. "Assumin' you know a bit of what's goin' on..." She opened the crinkled envelope, pulled out her note, and handed it to Claire. "You should have this...It's in code."

As Claire read the letter, Joey's eyes drifted back to the familiar words Chris had left for her, replaying them in her mind over and over. "What's a little longer?" But what is a little longer? Weeks? Months? The uncertainty gnawed at her. A sigh slipped from her lips, and she crumpled the note into her fist.

"What about Holden? She and Jill didn't go with him, why?"

Josephine's throat tightened, her fist curling around the paper. "They were waiting until my leave was over..." Guilt began to choke her, making it hard to continue. "They took the subway to the edge of town, but I don't know if they ever made it." Her voice wavered as she struggled to keep her composure.

Apprehension began to cloud Claire's face, her eyes darting nervously between Josephine and the distant figures of Leon and Sherry. "Are you going to look for them?" she asked hesitantly, her voice a whisper to ensure it wouldn't carry to the back of the train car.

"I..." Joey's hazy mind raced, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. For the first time, she couldn't think of an answer. Or maybe she could, and she just didn't want to voice it—for the first time ever. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. "I don't know." The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

"Well... do whatever you need to do."

It was the last thing Josephine wanted to hear. She just wanted someone to tell her what to do. It would be easier than making the decision herself—she wouldn't have to bear the weight of the blame if she made the wrong choice.

Claire stood from the bench and approached Leon and Sherry, leaving the brunette with her torturous thoughts alone. Josephine leaned against the cold wall, crossing her legs beneath her, and closed her eyes. Grief threatened to keep them shut forever, as if doing so would etch their faces into her memory—the faces of everyone she had let down.

Umbrella got to keep the G-virus. They got to keep their lives. But at what cost?

Breaking through her downward spiral, Leon and Sherry's soft laughter made her mouth quirk into a faint smile. It was a beautiful, foreign sound she longed to hear just once more. Even if it was forced, if it brought comfort to the child, she didn't care. It was the thought that mattered—the fleeting moment of normalcy amidst this loss.

The sound of rustling fabric and the gentle pressure of a knee brushing against her own compelled her to open her eyes. Leon had seated himself beside her, his chiseled face marred by a guilt-ridden expression. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he murmured. As he settled in, their knees pressed against one another, bridging the gap that begun to form.

She shook her head, letting his presence envelop her like her favorite blanket. "I wasn't sleeping," she whispered.

"Oh."

Joey could feel the tension radiating from his body beside her, and an urge to comfort him surged within her—to assure him that she didn't hold him responsible for her failure. Gently, she slipped her bruised hand into his and gave it a soft squeeze. He did it back before his shoulders sagged, a weary breath escaping his lips.