It isn't so much the golden hour sunrise seeping through the grimy windowpane that wakes Leon from his sleep. Nor is it the soft humming of the woman walking through the kitchen. Rather, it's the tinge of copper blood in his mouth. It's the sharp ache of his exhausted muscles that seize up as an effect of sleep. It's the Raccoon City Police Department halls, lit only by the streetlights outside and his own flashlight prowling. The dead eyes of Marvin Branagh as his would-be coworker instead reaches his arms for Leon in a wild urge to kill. The tyrant's hard boots stomping down the halls while Leon runs for his life, knowing if he slips up for one second, he'll surely be its next victim. And, of course, death. So, so much death.

His heart pounds in his ears so loudly he's afraid he'll lose his hearing. It warns him of danger, reminds him of all the creatures that want him dead. It screams that he can't rest ever again, it's not safe. Not while those... things are out there. He's going to be found. Eaten. Killed. He's going to watch his colleagues die even before he could meet them. Claire's lifeless body, dull eyes. Sherry strung from the ceiling, blood and guts leaking from her.

Those images play over again in the back of his mind when his eyes dart open and he rises to his hands out of that dull fight or flight instinct, ready to do either at a moment's notice. He barely has time to completely process what's happening before a soft, gentle stream of Russian flows from his left. She's standing there beside the bed, concerned words echo throughout her mask-less expression.

He's back here. Right. There is no danger, no more running and fighting. Just this bed. And that lady. That thought alone allows him to release his breath, relaxing his aching muscles.

"I..." Leon starts to explain himself, but he quickly realizes it's no use. She doesn't understand an ounce of his language, nor does he understand hers. But what he does understand is her crawling into bed and pulling him close into her arms, attempting to stroke his damp hair. He understands the care, the concern. But it's not something he can accept without feeling guilt.

"I don't know you," Leon mumbles, pulling himself from her embrace, "Please, I need to go."

She doesn't understand, but he doesn't expect her to. She never understands. It's dead end after dead end, nothing can get through to her. He can't even figure out why she wants him here. Just to care for him? To kidnap him? Kill him? Or, is she lonely out here? There's no clear answer and Leon knows asking is useless when she can't even reply in a way he understands.

It feels hopeless, she's never gone. She sleeps with him at night so there's no chance for him to escape. She's here in the morning. She's here when he wakes up. When does she leave ?

Though, Leon has to admit. It isn't all bad. She feeds him. She tends to his wounds. She gives him clothes and a bed to sleep on. She does care. Or she seems to care. He just wishes she would let him leave. It just doesn't seem like an option at the moment.

"Голодный?"

Leon turns his eyes back toward her from the bedsheets, peeled intently as she retrieves a bowl from the table, another spoon in hand. Oatmeal. Leon's eyes flicker from the bowl to her eyes before he accepts the meal gratefully.

"Thank you." He whispers.

"Thank you," She repeats slowly in a thick accent. His eyebrows rise, wondering for a moment if she already knew that or if she's simply trying to learn. Either way, he appreciates the effort.

They eat again in complete silence and as the day progresses, Leon recognizes their routine. Eating goes by quickly, they're both starving. Then, she removes his sweater, checks his bandages. This time, she changes the bandages around his torso. He can't help but notice her calloused fingers brush over his muscled stomach for a moment too long. He allows it, though, something tells him he shouldn't. Then, to his surprise, she says something stern to him, pointing toward him, then the floor. Stay .

Leon nods, despite the fact his first thought is to run. He numbs his face, makes damn sure it doesn't show as she dons her mask, and is out the door.

He's surprised she trusts him enough to stay, and a small part of him feels almost guilty for immediately planning his escape. Which is strange, considering she was the one who kidnapped him in the first place. She was the one who took him from his life. On the other hand, she cares for him. She treats his wounds, gives him food, lets him rest. That's why he feels guilty. She gives him all of this care he wouldn't dream of burdening another person with. She forces it on him. And... somewhere deep in his mind, Leon feels safe in that role.

But just as that idea comes to fruition, it's just as quickly shut down. He can't stay here. he has a life to go back to. Sherry and Claire. Ada. He needs to see the aftermath of the city. He's worried sick about them, he wonders if the dogs caught up to them. He wonders if they made it somewhere safe. There are a lot of thoughts and worries he has about them and no definitive way to find out. Not until he's out of this house.

All this thinking is enough for Leon to lose sight of her as she veers off to her right, two axes in her hands. He wonders, for a moment, what she's doing with them. Hunting? How far away are they from civilization? If he's walking back to cell signal, he fears it'll be a long walk but for Claire and Sherry, it's worth it.

Leon feels safe enough once another minute has passed; he seizes the police vest from above his head and changes into his jeans, wincing as he does so. His thigh is already feeling a bit better, especially after she'd changed the bandages this morning. He's going to be slow, but if stealth is on his side, he knows he can make it through.

With his vest on him, weapon in pockets, and phone and wallet with them, Leon opens the front door quietly, shutting it behind him with a gentle click.

The leaves under him crackle upon his weight as he veers left, not wanting to risk being detected immediately. He can't run, not under his injuries, but he can walk quickly, gun in hand, ears tuned for anything. Snapping twigs, leaves, perhaps her voice. Leon may be overly cautious, but he can't risk it. Too much is riding on him getting out of there safely.

Leon walks for a long time. The sun which was once rising over the horizon now sits high in the sky, casting sunlight between orange leaves overhead. He passes over a creek and continues his venture onward. He doesn't know how long he's been walking, but it's beginning to get hard to hold in the small grunts of pain that escape his lips. His leg has gone from fine to a severe annoyance over the past while, each step feels like a bolt of angry nerves. Every breath makes his side hurt even more.

You can't stop now, Leon. We need to find Claire.

He counts his steps, trying to focus on anything besides the pain. Panting, eyes heavy. He's so tired, but he keeps pushing on. There are many things he could complain about now, but he can't. He's got to get out of here before she finds out. He's sure she already knows by now. She could already be looking for him. She probably entered the house, took one look at the bed, and turned on her heel to enter the forest once more. Leon only hopes he's far enough.

As his thigh finally begins to pull waves of exhaustion through his system, Leon deems himself far enough away for a break. Only five minutes. He should have tried to find water on the way, brought a bottle of some sort. He's parched, the walls of his throat touch dry. He doesn't know how much longer he's going to have to walk through these woods, he hopes it's not too terribly long. He needs something to survive, something more than what he has. A lighter for a fire, a tent or tarp of some sort, food, water.

He should have thought this through, but he needed to get out while he had a chance. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to get as far away as he had.

The leaves crunch under him as he rests his back upon the hard bark of a tree, legs stretching comfortably in front of him. He can't stop the small groan that escapes his lips as he finally relaxes for the first time in what feels like hours. Leon throws his head back against the wood, shutting his eyes. It's relaxing. It's peaceful.

Crows caw from the trees above him, a soft breeze rustles the trees. Leon's grateful for the sweater that covers his arms for without it, he would be uncomfortably cold. He can't help but let out a soft yawn, reverberating throughout his system. Weariness rests on his eyes like weights, he almost feels safe enough to sleep. Though, he'd never. Not while on the run.

Then, the breaking of a stick to his right. Leon's eyelids flash open and his hand rests on his gun cautiously. Even away from Raccoon City, there is no way to rest more than five minutes before trouble is hot on his trail again. He waits it out, not wanting to draw attention to himself if he can help it. There's a long, tense silence before another snapping of a twig, louder now.

Leon rises to his feet carefully, eyes glued to the direction it came from. He unholsters his gun and points it directly out at a full arm's length from his body, running his eyes across the area. No sign of anything, but the woods are so thick, it's hard to tell.

Then another crackle, slightly closer this time. Leon risks taking one step forward, then another, staying completely silent as he does so. His eyes dart from his left to his right, watching cautiously, careful not to draw attention to himself. He doesn't know what could be out here. Wolves, bears, cougars... Hell, maybe the T-virus found its way here. That would certainly be something.

As Leon waits, watches, an extended silence falls over the area. He feels the back of his neck prickle up as if eyes are on him, crowding him. He feels vulnerable, exposed. No matter what he does in this situation, there's no way he'll make it out without at least a couple of wounds.

Then, something flying through the air at a breakneck pace. Leon barely has time to notice the wind that brushes his hands before his gun is being knocked from his hand and pinned to a tree to his left, when he catches a glimpse, he realizes it's an axe.

He's been followed for God knows how long. Those pebbles were a distraction. Leon's heart sinks in his chest. He's done for.

When he turns his head to his right, that bunny mask sits on a pair of wide shoulders, knuckles white from where she holds her second axe tight in hand. Leon has no time to contemplate the fact he's lost his pistol before she's walking toward him at a fast pace, muscles straining. She looks angry. Leon wastes no time turning from her and sparking his energy once more, running as quickly as he can.

Deep down, he knew it was pointless: she isn't injured, she knows these woods, she's taller than him, stronger, and, as he soon learns, faster.

Leon gives her a good race, leaves his gun, knowing it's long past usable. He's limping, each hard press of his foot to the ground feels like fire through his leg and despite his feeble attempt to gain speed on her, he hardly gets past ten steps before a sharp force pulls him back violently. He kicks, he struggles hard, but it seems as if no amount of fight will deter her from her iron grip on him as he's slung over her shoulder, pinning him there with an inhuman amount of force.

"Let me go, I gotta get out of here!" Leon yells, punching at her thick back, "I need to see my friends. My family. Please."

Not a word comes out of her. Leon can't see her expression but he doesn't care to. She essentially kidnapped him, held him here. Didn't let him see anyone, try to contact anyone. She has no way out of this forest, he hasn't been allowed outside. The more the evidence piles up against her, the more Leon begins to despise her. Maybe it's the heat of the moment, but the longer she carries him, the more he fights back, kicking at her, attempting to bite her. Nothing works. Nothing deters her. It's useless.

Leon needs to go home. He needs to see Raccoon again. Claire and Sherry are out there all alone. He needs to make sure they're okay. They're probably worried, or at the very least confused about his sudden abandonment. It's that worry, that stress that burns him of the rest of his strength, violently fighting against her. He can't angle his foot enough to catch her face and her hair is still in that tight bun, he can't even tug at it. It's only when his side begins to cramp so painfully Leon cries out, that he finally begins to calm himself. It's useless.

He remains limp the rest of the walk back, her arm crushing his gut just the slightest as they go, causing him to wince. She really doesn't want him to go. Why? What could she possibly want from him? They don't even speak the same language. She's just kept him here to take care of him. What happens when he's better? Will he finally be set free?

As they approach the cabin a long while later, the lady is still completely silent. Leon feels the tension between them, can sense the anger bubbling deep inside her as he's essentially thrown onto the bed, the front door slammed shut. She leans over her kitchen countertop for a long while, muscles tensed, head hung low in defeat. Silence rests for ages between them like a fog so thick he can't even see her.

He isn't sure what to say, just stares at her. He's afraid she'll kill him. He hasn't seen her this mad before and the way she'd flung him to the bed... She doesn't seem happy with him at all. Leon doesn't know how to explain he has people to see. He doesn't know how to explain that he has a life to return to. There's only so much you can do with the obvious signs of the hands. He doesn't want to end up infuriating her more.

"я тебе доверял..." She murmurs so quietly Leon almost doesn't hear it. She falls her weight to her elbows, gripping her hair under the black veil, "Почему они никогда не останутся? Почему тебе здесь не нравится?"

"I don't..." Leon starts, but he hardly even gets the words out before she's tearing her mask off and turning toward him. Thick tears run down her cheeks; her jaw clenched so hard he can see the tendons under her skin. She's glaring so harshly that if looks could kill, his throat would be slit.

"Насколько тяжело остаться!?" She bellows. Leon scrambles further back in his bed, unsure if she plans to get violent. His heart is pounding, ready to defend himself at a moment's notice.

She screams louder, more Russian pouring through her mouth like a waterfall. She's raging, she's pouring, and above all else, she's hurt . The cracks in her words aren't just verbal cracks. She looks like she's tearing at the seams and a feeling sinks deep in Leon's gut. One of his own liabilities in this situation. This is my fault . Leon feels awful for that thought.

As their eyes meet, hers slowly turn from furious to... almost regretful? Guilty? Her expression softens as she examines his face, and notices the fear in his eyes. Their eyes meet like that for a long time, her tears still drowning her eyes, pouring over her cheeks and down her chin. Leon isn't sure what's happening, but he's still panting, trying to calm his pounding heart.

"Please... eh, thank you." She tries, her voice sounds strained like she's really trying to convey something and Leon doesn't know what it is.

She begins to approach him, causing him to tense up, even more, trying to hide further into the wall. She hesitates, Leon doesn't know her intentions but he does notice that she seems quite a bit calmer. He doesn't know how to gauge her. He doesn't know what she wants from him. He just knows of his role in this.

"Please." She repeats, holding out a hand. Leon turns his eyes down toward it before meeting her eyes, warily. She's got a solemnness to them, guilt, a tad of melancholy. Leon doesn't take her hand. He doesn't do anything with her. A mess of emotions run through his head, unsure if he should trust her. She's switched from anger to guilt with a snap of her fingers and she's now trying to regain his trust. Leon still doesn't know if she wants him dead and he has nothing to protect himself but his own fists. He's tired. He's been traveling all day for nothing. He wants to sleep. He wants to forget today ever happened.

Leon watches her a while longer. When she realizes he's not going to take her hand, she merely sighs. Leon doesn't know what the hell she wants from him, but he can't help but feel a twinge of his own shame for denying her when she drags her feet back to the kitchen, pulling a pan from above the stove to begin cooking. It almost seems like a... habit for her sadness. Like it's all she knows. She seems terribly distressed and Leon doesn't know what to do.

That guilt that had stirred inside of him just before he left is stirring again. She's done everything for him. She's cared for him; she's given him shelter. And how does he repay her but to leave at the first chance? Deny her of any friendliness?

Those thoughts stir in his head as she leaves for a moment, returning with a recently deceased hare, pressing it to the dining table. He can't help but wince the slightest as she relieves it of its head in one, skilled chop of an axe.

"I'm sorry," Leon speaks, his voice much weaker than he intended. Her eyes rise from the dead prey on her table to him, matching his eyes with her own emotionless. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't reply, only turns her head back to the rabbit, slashing it to prepare for cooking. Leon grumbles softly, a knot turning in his stomach where guilt rises to his throat like bile. He doesn't know how to make this better. He doesn't know how to fix what's already been done.

As she continues to chop at her catch, Leon kicks off his shoes softly, allowing them to fall to the side of the bed. The blankets catch in his hand as he pulls them up over his body and he lays down, staring at the wall. The least he can do to get rid of this guilt would be to sleep. He's tired. He aches. He needs rest. He just hopes when he wakes, she'll forgive him for what he did.

It isn't until she's tapping him on the shoulder that Leon wakes again. No nightmares this time, just a black sleep. It's already dark out, at least a little while past sunset when he's brought to his senses, a plate of cooked rabbit extended out to him.

"Thank you," He yawns, slowly taking the plate from her. She returns a weak smile back before sitting at the dining room table across from him. She has much less food than he does, he notices. He wonders if she didn't have enough for the both of them or just didn't want to eat that much.

Guilt still weighs in on Leon's chest, it outweighs the guilt of completely abandoning Claire and Sherry. It outweighs everything that had happened. All he's thinking of is this woman. How he's shown her nothing but numbness and fear since coming here while she's given him no reason to feel that way.

He watches for a moment, still not taking a bite of his food as he watches her take small nibbles of her hunt. He bites his tongue, then with a soft voice, he breaks the routine of their silence.

"Hey."

Her eyes rise almost immediately from her meal, still as numb as before, sorrowful more now than numb. She watches with sharp eyes as he swallows the lump in his throat and pats the cushion of the bed across from him, pointing to her then to the area to further enforce the idea. "Come here."

She looks hesitant, it's hard to read thoughts through the eyes, but somewhere deep in them, it seems as if she wants to. Her eyebrows raise just the slightest, as if asking.

"Please," Leon nods. She hesitates once more, but after another long moment, she rises from the table and approaches the bed before resting across from him, dinner plate in hand, eyes solemn.

"I'm sorry for leaving." He murmurs, he knows she won't understand, but he hopes his tone of voice will get through to her. Or something from his words. "I needed to get back to Raccoon City. To my friends and family. I just needed to get home. I miss home. I shouldn't have put your emotions aside because of it. You've taken great care of me and I appreciate the meals and the medical care and everything. It means a lot."

She's got an expression of blank confusion, tilting her head to express it better.

"Thank you," Leon murmurs. She smiles just the softest at that.

"Thank you. Спасибо."

"Спасибо." Leon repeats. He can't help but feel the corner of his lip twitch upward, repeating that again in his head to remember.

"Anna." She says, pointing to her chest. "я Anna."

"Anna?" Leon is surprised by the sudden words from her, betraying her wistful eyes. "Your name?"

"Мое имя Anna," Anna replies. Then points to Leon's chest. "Как тебя зовут?"

Leon doesn't know the words, but he understands her question as he replies, "Leon. I'm Leon."

"Leon," She repeats, "Leon."

Anna turns her head down to her meal at where she's already halfway through her slice of rabbit. Leon notices that she still doesn't have much food on her plate, much less now than before. So, he tears off half of his own, setting the remaining piece on Anna's plate so they each have one and a half pieces.

"Нет," Anna tries, shaking her head and picking it up with her fork to give back.

"Take it." Leon replies sharply, "Please."

She stares at the piece of meat for a little while longer, darting up to Leon's eyes shortly after as she shyly replies, "Спасибо."

They eat in silence again, but this time it's a more satisfying silence. It's a silence that feels secure. It feels soothing. And when Anna takes Leon's plate and he pulls off his vest to set on the table above him, it doesn't feel as exposing as it normally does.

When Anna returns to check on his bandages, Leon leaves his sweater off this time. He doesn't pay any mind to the way her fingers dance on his bare chest or when she pulls down his jeans to change the bandages on his thigh. He only flushes slightly when this time, her fingers brush over his cock as they pull his jeans back up. His eyes meet hers directly afterward, to which her own cheeks go slightly pink.

"Прости..." She murmurs, pulling her veil from her head and letting down her hair.

Leon's eyes match with hers while she pulls off her own boots and crawls into bed beside Leon, sneaking her arm under his side yet again. This time, when he faces the wall and the moonlight streams through the window, Leon doesn't feel as weird about being pulled back against her. This time, it feels comforting.

This time, it almost feels like home.