Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘SPECIAL TACTICS AND RESCUE SERVICE’

Somehow, those five words were enough to halt Leon in his tracks. Hand high, ready to knock, but suspended still in midair.

He swallowed something viscous down the back of his throat, trying to steady his breathing. Somehow, those five words shook Leon to his core; more than the blood and the gunfire that pierced through his memories. He blinked, but the words remained, seemingly larger and more intimidating than before.

He didn’t want to become a member of S.T.A.R.S. And he meant that.

Why was it so hard for others to simply accept that truth?

But he had been ordered to the office. He was expected to arrive on time and prepared with his trusted firearm. And all because captain Wesker couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

His hand lowered, thumb rubbing back and forth across the fingers in his fist. It was a nervous habit, and it frustrated him how much his own body was betraying his attempts to remain calm. He swallowed that same, viscous sensation in his throat, clearing it and allowing himself to breathe despite how his chest constricted.

Before this, before yesterday’s brief meeting with captain Wesker in the filing room, Leon had always been confident in what his next move would be. He had his life sorted; not day by day, but he had his goals and he had met those goals. S.T.A.R.S had never once factored into his life outside of his ‘work colleagues in the upstairs office’. And that was how it was meant to be.

He would just have to have a talk with captain Wesker.

After all, it was just an initiative position. He didn’t have to prove himself to S.T.A.R.S and certainly not to their captain.

But denying the position alone was difficult, and speaking with captain Wesker was no easy task.

There was a chime, somewhere in the distance. It wasn’t the bell tower, as that place was under repairs and had been even before Leon had arrived for his first day of work. But it was a clock chime. Six o’clock had rolled around and Leon was due to arrive.

He steeled himself, breathed, and knocked hard against the door.

There was a moment of silence before the door opened in towards the office. On the other side, a pair of dark shades and a disgruntled expression greeted Leon. The face softened slightly, and the door opened wider, allowing the rookie entrance into the room whilst Wesker stepped back and away from the door.

‘Right on time.’

‘Sir? Uh… I have to talk to you-’ Leon was interrupted by that same motion from yesterday. A gloved hand up, a silent order to cease talking. His mouth snapped shut and Wesker gestured to a nearby chair at one of the desks. He sat down as if on autopilot, noting with embarrassment how the captain’s mouth, once a hard line, had quirked up at the corner. It seemed he found Leon’s nervousness amusing.

‘In a moment, Kennedy. I’ve got a call on hold.’ The man turned and reentered his office without another word.

Leon was, once again, unable to get a word in.

He sat in the chair, trying not to twist and turn or spin it around in a circle. It was all too… Formal? No, he was sure that was the wrong word. Whatever word it was he was looking for didn’t really matter; he simply felt way out of his depth in this foreign world.

He eyed the office. The weapons locker at the far end of the room, a large communication station at the opposite end abuzz with static and then the series of desks between. The desk Leon sat at was swept clean and tidy. A few books were perched upright at the back, detailing bomb defusal guides and history of the United States’ military forces. Along the top ridge of the wooden desk was a polished plaque that read ‘Jill Valentine’.

Leon hadn’t the honour of meeting her yet, but if Wesker had his way, Leon would be working alongside her soon enough.

He could see Rebecca’s desk on the opposite side, a medical bag slung over a hook on the wall beside it and a framed bachelor’s degree in chemistry above that. It was a lot messier than Valentine’s desk, with pencils and scribbled sheets of paper layering the desk in a thin layer of chaos. He wondered what it would be like to work alongside Rebecca. They hadn’t been friends for too long, but they got along well even if their interests were vastly different.

‘I can’t tonight. Tomorrow after five?’ Wesker’s voice caught Leon’s notice. It wasn’t loud, but the man had left his office door open and even despite Leon’s attempts not to listen in, he could still hear every word.

‘William-’ There was silence for a moment. ‘I am not discussing this now. Tomorrow, after five.’ Despite how calm the captain sounded, Leon could almost feel the frustration ebbing out through the open door. He felt awkward, listening to one half of a conversation he didn’t even understand the context for. It was bizarre and he knew it was an idiotic thing to feel awkward about, but he couldn’t help it.

There was a long period of uninterrupted silence. When the captain spoke next, his voice was a growl into the phone, but it had a shiver rolling up Leon’s own spine.

‘Tomorrow, William. I will not say it again.’

The phone was returned to the receiver with some force. Leon flinched, feeling his hand twitch and fidget. He was rubbing his fingers together again in a fist, the knuckles turning white. He was reaching his limit on how long he could take being out of his element.

‘Kennedy.’ Wesker was standing in the door, gesturing with two curled fingers for the cop to follow him. Leon did as he was told, standing from Valentine’s seat and hurrying to follow the captain into his office.

Wesker didn’t move as Leon entered the office, forcing the younger man to shuffle past him in the doorway. It forced them close; close enough that Leon could smell the RPD’s toxic coffee on his breath and feel the heat at his back. He could feel that wave of embarrassment rising up against the skin of his neck and cheeks, flushing them a shameful red. He tried to hide it as best he could, keeping his head turned down to the desk and away from Wesker as he passed him by.

Once he was seated once more, Wesker shut the door with a click of the old lock. He rounded the desk and took a seat opposite Leon. There was a squeak of the old leather chair, the captain reclining against it in an unusual show of casualness. It was an odd image, the austere captain, always intimidating and at attention, almost relaxed in the cramped office.

‘Apologies. I had to deal with an urgent matter.’ It didn’t really sound like an apology, simply an explanation.

‘Of course, sir.’

Wesker reached one gloved hand below the surface of the desk, opening a drawer and withdrawing a folder into his hands. He opened it, peering through the pages there with some interest. Leon couldn’t see his eyes from behind the shades, but it seemed the captain was assessing him up and down. He had a feeling he knew what was inside the folder.

‘Your reputation precedes you.’ Wesker hummed again, thoughtfully. He turned another page. ‘Top of your class in the academy. ‘Exceptional performance in all areas,’ according to your commanding officers.’ Leon would usually feel pride when someone would mention his achievements, but now, all he felt was humbled. Next to captain Wesker, Leon must have seemed so… Normal.

‘Just exaggerating, sir-’

‘So, you’re saying they lied?’ Wesker tilted his head away from the file, allowing Leon a peek just over the top of those dark glasses. Eyes like steel, silver-gray and cold, glared at him and just like the previous evening, Leon felt himself shrink under such a gaze.

‘W-Well, no-’

‘Then don’t debase yourself.’ Wesker growled, turning his eyes back to the file in his hands. ‘I don’t intend to waste my time, so don’t interject with your meek attempts at modesty.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Leon’s voice was quiet, all thoughts of simply rejecting captain Wesker’s request to join S.T.A.R.S silenced for the moment.

The captain turned in his chair, sliding the folder onto the table. There were photographs of Leon’s graduation, both from high school and the police academy, copies of test scores and graphs of his improvement in the academy. There was also a long, compiled list of quotes from previous teachers and officers, commending him for his work, and civilians praising him for his efforts these last five months. It felt like all his dirty laundry was being aired out, even if all of what Leon could see was positive.

It was just embarrassing.

‘Says here that you also participated in several classes outside of school, including two languages and a martial class?’

‘The martial arts was for only a little while, sir. I’d hardly call it an achievement.’

‘And your language classes?’

‘French and Spanish.’

It all seemed like an interview for a college rather than a place in S.T.A.R.S. Leon wondered if anyone else was screened in a similar fashion before him. Even the smallest of things seemed to have caught captain Wesker’s interest, including some arrest forms regarding Leon’s own family. He wondered how Wesker had even gotten ahold of those.

Leon never liked thinking back to his family and what they were like. Sure, he didn’t really know them for long, but none of them were good people. They had attempted to initiate him into the ‘family business’, but it wouldn’t take. Leon had a greater sense of morality than most members of his blood, and he was still just a teenager when they died.

‘Sir.’ The captain looked up at Leon and stared, waiting for him to speak. It was the most freedom Leon had been allowed since he had entered the office, so he leapt for this opportunity. ‘I… I understand that chief Irons offered me this position, but, sir, this is above me. I couldn’t offer anything to S.T.A.R.S that one of your officers couldn’t do leagues better. You said you didn’t want to waste any time. Well, I think you’re wasting time, attempting to hire me.’

Wesker was quiet, his face stoic. Leon wasn’t sure what he was thinking, and it was unnerving him.

Finally, the captain’s face split into that dangerous smirk once more. Something about it seemed almost predatory and it had Leon struggling not to quake in his seat. He faced down guns and knives and even a flamethrower once. Why was it that the captain instilled in him such fear?

‘Attempting?’

Leon’s mind drew a blank. He tilted his head, confused by Wesker’s use of the word. It seemed Wesker was amused by Leon’s own use of it too, because there was a resounding chuckle deep within his chest. It was a sound that made something tighten beneath Leon’s sternum and he couldn’t help but shudder slightly in his seat.

‘I’m not attempting anything.’ Wesker said, standing and rounding the desk. As he did so, he took hold of his holster off the bureau behind him, clipping it with ease around his shoulders. He rounded behind Leon, out of sight and somehow, Leon realised, it was more unnerving being unable to see the man.

‘As of oh six-hundred hours, this morning…’ Wesker turned his gaze up to the clock on the wall above his desk. ‘… So, twenty minutes ago, officer Kennedy, you are now an initiative in S.T.A.R.S.’

What?!

Leon reeled back and wheeled around, out of his chair, in time to watch the captain open the door to his office with a click, and then open the door to the hallway. He gestured for Leon to follow with a flick of his head, smirk still plastered on those sharp features.

‘I was merely assessing your abilities, Kennedy. And we’re not done just yet.’

‘But captain-’

‘I need to understand how best to utilize my newest recruit most effectively.’ He stepped out of the office and Leon, on instinct, followed behind. ‘I can’t do that without seeing your more practical skills in action. If you impress me, maybe I’ll see you returned to the downstairs offices to say ‘goodbye’ to your old colleagues.’

There was no getting a word in with this frustratingly cruel man!

Leon shut his mouth, finally deciding to just go with it for now. At the end of the day, Wesker answered to chief Irons. He would have a talk with the chief after Wesker finally got an underwhelming performance at the gun range.

He refused to be the man's lap dog.