SAVEGUARD ⟼ leon s. kennedy

xliii. broken memories

"Clementine, hey... Wake up."

What point is there in waking up now? Arthur's and Parker's words will still be true. Arthur and Parker will still be dead. I close my eyes, but the tears don't stop.

The voice calling out is soothing, but dripping with worry."Clem, sweetheart, you're worrying me."

I open my eyes, and I'm staring at a pair of eyes, but this time they're not glowing red, or half melted-off. They're baby blue, speckled with dark blue, framed by dark blonde lashes, and they're real.

"Clem. Hey," Leon says, holding my head like he thinks I can't keep my own head up. "Earth to beautiful. You were having a nightmare."

I try to swallow but my throat is dry. I sit up and stare at my surroundings, expecting them to start shifting and changing again. But nothing about where I am now is scary or unsettling. Everything is exactly how it was a few hours ago before we fell asleep: the empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table, two cushions kicked to the floor to make more space on the couch, the navy blue thick blanket tangled between my legs, Die Hard's DVD menu on loop on the TV.

"Talk to me," Leon says, snapping me out of my reality check. "Hey, I'm right here. Where'd you go?"

I can't talk to him. So many things went wrong because of me.

"Okay," he whispers, mostly to himself. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, before focusing his eyes on me again. "I'm going to make some coffee for us."

I hear clinking from the kitchen, and before I know it, two large mugs of coffee are sitting in front of me.

"You're burning up," he says, pressing his cool fingers against my forehead. "Can you please talk to me?"

I stare at him and struggle hard to get the words out. My eyes are stinging already, and before I know it, I'm about to drown in my own tears again.

"Fuck, no no, don't cry," he mumbles, before pulling me into his chest, one arm around my back and the other holding me by my head. "I can't handle seeing you cry."

I cry into his chest before I realise how tensed up he is, and I pull back and catch him wincing in pain for half a second. The guilt hits me like a baseball bat through my chest, and I sit away from him.

"Clementine," he says, his voice firm. "Use your words so I can help you. Please."

"I killed Parker," I say, and the words make my ribcage shake.

Two lines form between his eyebrows. "What?"

"It's my fault—If we weren't fooling around—If you were alone—It's all because I was there," I cry, unable to breathe or string together a full sentence.

Through my tears I see his jaw tighten once, twice. He then closes the distance between us and holds me again. Tighter than before. I struggle against him, not wanting to touch his chest, but he holds me there, grunting a little in pain, determination personified.

"Nothing that happened on that ship was your fault. You need to understand that, or the self-inflicted guilt will eat you alive." He tenses up under me, before relaxing a little and stroking my hair. "Tell me you understand, Clementine."

"I don't," I say, feeling pathetic. "If I had just told you what Arthur was planning, then none of this would've happened. We never would've split up."

He shifts me around so he can take a look at my face. He wipes the tears from my eyes with his thumb, and then uses the sleeve of his top to wipe my cheek. "He would've bombed the ship with the same reckless abandon he bombed Tripp's office when you were in it." He kisses my forehead, and wipes more tears. "Clementine... He didn't really leave you a choice."