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Leon S. Kennedy (rookie2agent) wrote in wariscoming,

He wasn't fairing too well the past few days. Shooting the radio was the start of it, having recurring dreams about the city again were simply the icing on the cake. The familiar one where he found the body in the road on his way to his first day on the job and pushing it over just to see the muscles and blood ooze out of a gaping wound before the thing started moving again, and being completely surrounded by the group of no longer living creatures with only the magnum from his dad and uncle.

And he always was down to his last bullet. Always. Without any other weapons on his person either.

Leon had the habit of waking up just before smacking his back into a closed off alley – the one he was supposed to use as a shortcut and help Claire.

After that, it was the same. Sleep wouldn’t come back to him, even if he was dead tired; so he’d have a drink or two to push him along. Leon wasn’t a drinker or anything either, usually it was only a social or celebratory thing so it was starting to take a toll on him.

“Yeah, come in,” he called to her from his seat at the small dining table. Of course, he took the time before she got there to clean up a little. If he looked like complete crap she’d get worried and he didn’t want that.