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Trophy Father's Trophy Son

Summary: Six years after Leon left you for Raccoon City, he shows up on your doorstep. In his sudden appearance, he learns of yet another reason why he never should’ve left that day. 

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7 K Words

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of death, mentions of depression/burnout, swearing, mentions of trauma

Tags: RE4/DI Leon, Dad!Leon, happy-ending, Leon breaks down, but he also gets his happy-ending, not proofread!

A/N: I am finally back! I never want to experience another hurricane again :) anyways, this was another request. I put a bit of a spin on it, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you all for supporting my work once again! <3<3<3! Song title from "Trophy Father's Trophy Son" by Sleeping With Sirens.

Six years. Six long, miserable years that seemed never-ending. Caught in a loop of trauma and loss, never once finding an ounce of peace, Leon wondered if he’d ever found a way to cope with what happened on September 28, 1998. He lived his life like a machine, oiling just enough to wake up in the morning before he’d eventually crash and break down at night. 

Six fucking years of living a life not for himself, keeping himself alive just to play the good agent. The best agent, willingly seated at the President’s beck and call, constantly wondering what would happen if he decided to swap out his usual, “Yes, sir” for one giant, “Fuck you.” Would they reprimand him, consider his work too valuable to do anything less than a mark on his record? Or would they bite the bullet and put on right through his skull, like he’d done to the countless innocents infected by corporations that lined the thick pockets of government officials and campaigners? 

Leon didn’t know anymore. Hell, did he ever really know anything in the first place, considering his memory always loved to backtrack just 24-hours before he would no longer consider himself a man. 

September 27, 1998. 

The day he walked away from you, watching you cling to the post of your family’s front porch, wailing in the rain as you begged him not to go. He could still remember the gut-wrenching feeling of getting in his car, sitting stiff in the driver’s seat as he tried to make up his mind on whether or not to leave you behind for Raccoon City. He’d been so excited to get the assignment, raving on for weeks about how he wanted to get the chance to investigate the Arklay Mountain murders. 

He’d barely graduated from the Police Academy back then, coming home to you with a much more muscular physique and a ‘good boy’ attitude. He’d matured more than you could’ve imagined in just a few months, and that included his view on your relationship. Leon would’ve dropped to one knee back then in an instant, if he thought you’d say yes. Which is what he thought you were going to say when he asked you if you were going to move with him. 

The breakup was inevitably coming, that much he knew by the way you faltered over your words and looked away from him. You were in your last year of college, and the university nearby didn’t offer a program for your major.

The guilt on your face when you’d declined still hurt him to this day, six years later as he sat beside Ashley Graham on the plane back home to the U.S. This last mission in Spain stirred up more emotions from the past than he was comfortable with. Seeing Ada again, the woman he’d tried to let distract him from his heartbreak only to end up hurt again when he thought she’d fallen to her death, brought him right back to that unlucky night. Learning Krauser, the man whose rigorous training had nearly killed Leon and given him a sense of purpose, had abandoned his morals and joined the enemy made him seriously wonder if the life he led would ever have its upturn. 

Watching Luis die, a man whose last minute efforts to be the good guy ended with a knife to his back, was what Leon considered to be the last straw. He couldn’t go on like this anymore. His life would not be reduced to following a “democracy” truly fueled by those who held the most cash in their pockets, not the people that resided within its borders. 

And for the first time in six years, the second he stepped off the plane and dealt with the hours-long debriefings and mandatory quarantine, he allowed himself to revisit the past. He hadn’t even gotten a full night’s rest before he sat at his kitchen table, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he wondered if this truly was the best idea. 

He wasn’t the same man that you remembered, the bright-eyed rookie long gone and leaving behind an emotionless husk held together by more glasses of whiskey than truly necessary. A workaholic, bordering on alcoholic, that refused to admit to himself or those around him that he was not okay. 

“Here goes nothing,” Leon huffed beneath his breath, brushing the blonde fringe from his eyes with a shaky hand. He opened up the civilian record system he wasn’t necessarily granted access to, having called in a personal favor with Hunnigan. Slowly typing in your first and last name, he scrolled through countless hits before he found you. 

You’d never left Boston judging by your driver’s license and voting records. You’d switched addresses a few times, having recently just moved to a better part of town within the last six months. He felt a twinge in his chest, the feeling unfamiliar to him, as he searched for anything that would cause his search to halt. Marriage licenses or divorce decrees were absent from your record, bringing a sigh of relief from his lips. 

Leon only let himself briefly glance at your tax returns to gauge your occupation before the guilt of diving too deep into his ex-girlfriend’s sensitive information began to make him feel nauseous. He clicked out of the program, shutting his laptop before he eventually decided to finally get some sleep. USSTRATCOM had so generously granted him a few days off after too many near-death experiences for one mission. 

He spent the first thirteen hours of his time off dead asleep, sleeping so deeply he didn’t even dream. And when he woke up, he booked the first flight to Boston. With only an overnight bag and your address scribbled on a sticky note, he made his way “home” for the first time since he’d left. 

And now, Leon sat in a rental car parked in front of the brownstone townhome, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as the minutes dragged on. He’d been sitting here for an hour, glancing back and forth from the bustling road to your front doorstep. What would I even say to her, he thought to himself as he leaned back in the driver’s seat, frown forming on his face. 

It wasn’t like he could exactly waltz up to the door, knock and say, “Hey, sorry I’ve been AWOL for six years. The government enslaved me, but I miss you and I want you back.” 

No, that wouldn’t blow over well. 

So now, he was left empty-minded and utterly petrified of your reaction. He wondered if maybe there was another man in your life, now. Or, if you had long closed the chapter of your life that included him and left the book on an old, dusty shelf in your mind never to be read again. Leon prayed, something he never did, that you’d find it in your heart to reread the story you used to love just one more time as he got out of the car. 

Slowly, he made his way up the concrete mat and onto the doorstep, taking in the painted door and double deadlocks. Smart girl, he mused internally before he took a shuddering breath. For a second, he thought about abandoning ship. You would never know if he just turned around right now and walked away, giving up all hope that he’d once again find happiness. It would be so easy. 

No, I need this. I need her. 

Leon knocked a few times before he took a step back, shoving his hands deep in the pocket of his windbreaker. He didn’t trust himself to wear another leather jacket, considering the one he’d worn and lost in Spain cost more than he was comfortable spending again. 

“Coming!” Your voice rang out from just behind the door, making his stomach twist and turn into knots. You sounded the same as you had when he’d known you, and it only made the nerves twisting in his stomach all the worse. 

He briefly glanced at the potted plant beside the door, making a mental note of it in case he lost the minimal lunch he’d eaten thanks to his nerves. His blue eyes, a duller blue than past versions of himself, flitted right back to the door when he heard the locks click. All the air in his lungs swept away with the afternoon breeze when it swung open, and your head popped out. 

The smile on your face stayed for only a few seconds before it dropped, leaving behind an expression he could only describe as utterly shocked. You blinked slowly, like you were trying to believe your own eyes as you opened the door slowly to reveal your full figure. 

You were the same height you’d been at twenty, but your curves were more prominent. You looked soft around the edges, just like he’d come to like over the years. And if anything, you were just as beautiful, if not more, than you were the day he’d left you and what remained of himself behind. 

“Leon?”

 Asking hesitantly, your words sounded airless and no louder than a hushed whisper. You looked him over from head-to-toe, making the seasoned agent squirm just a bit under your gaze. He’d been through bootcamp and bio-terroristic attacks, for fuck’s sake, yet the way you looked at him like you’d just seen a ghost made him feel like breaking. 

Leon licked his lips, looking down at his boots against the pavement as he tried to think of the best greeting possible. Something to ease you into his presence and not get himself kicked off your front porch. He settled on a simple, “Uh, hi.” 

You stepped out onto the porch, barefoot and in “lazy day” clothes as you looked up at him. You frowned, and he watched your eyes flit around his face. He could feel your gaze burn on the few beauty marks and moles he had, like you were checking their authenticity. 

“You’re.. God, I-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. Leon could see the reels turning in your mind as you took a step closer, holding your hands out in front of you. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before you touched his arm. “You’re.. Alive?” 

That threw him for a loop, eyebrows furrowing as he looked down and felt your soft hands brush over the slick fabric of his windbreaker. He could feel your fingers, as warm as he remembered, press into him. “I, uh, yeah?” He let out an awkward chuckle, clearly not having expected this kind of reaction. 

Your frown deepened, causing him to mirror your expression as you tried to find your words. You stammered a bit, stringing words of surprise together before you could finally form a coherent sentence. “I saw the news,” you started, swallowing harshly. “That they’d bombed Raccoon City.. I thought.. I thought you were dead.” 

Oh. 

It made sense to him, now. The government had painted quite a perfect lie, sorrowfully reporting there were no survivors of the incident that flattened an entire US city in a matter of seconds. Of course, you would think he was dead. It was only natural. 

“That’s a difficult story to explain,” he murmured, fingers fidgeting inside his pockets before he pulled his hands out. He’d made it this far, so far, it was too early to throw in the towel. “I can try to explain, uh. Can I come in?” Leon gestured to the open door behind you. 

You winced a bit, face twisting into a look of discomfort as you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the best idea-” 

“Mommy?” 

A soft voice sounding from behind you snapped both Leon’s attention and yours back to the open door. He couldn’t see its owner until you quickly turned around, and the sight before him caused his heart to fall flat right out of his chest and onto the floor. 

A little boy, probably elementary school aged, peered curiously up at you then around you. He looked at Leon, child-like bewilderment evident as he rocked back and forth on the door ledge. He looked just like you, mixed with someone else also standing on this porch. 

“Scotty, baby,” you started, your back to Leon but unease clearly evident in your voice as you bent down to eye-level with the little baby. “I told you to stay inside, didn’t I?” 

“You left the door open,” Scotty giggled, like he found the situation to be funny as he looked around you again. “Who is that?” 

Leon swallowed as a small finger pointed right at him, shock and other emotions tormenting deep inside his chest. Of course, she has a kid, he internally cringed. If only he’d scrolled through your tax return just a bit more, he would’ve seen that you claimed a dependent and not found himself in this situation. He didn’t speak, only looking away from the boy and back to you. 

“This is one of mommy’s friends from work,” you lied perfectly through your teeth, ushering the boy back inside. “Now, go on. I’ll be back inside in a minute.” You shut the door behind your son once he reluctantly disappeared inside, your shoulders slumped. Turning back towards Leon, it was clear that you were bracing for the incoming questions. 

If the fact that the little boy had a few traits just like Leon didn’t tip him off, the name definitely would click something in the depths of his mind. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked back at you, and he could only ask one thing: “How old is he?” 

You sighed through your nose, wrapping your arms around your midsection as you stared at the ground. “He turned six in June.” 

June, Leon thought. He counted back on his fingers, mumbling out the months until he got to the ninth one. September. His trip down memory lane had turned into yet another day he could put on the calendar as “life-changing”. 

I have a son. 

The thought was fleeting, but it shook every inch of Leon’s core as he stood before you, frozen in time. Sure, at twenty-one he really hadn’t been the most responsible about “family planning” or even bothering to reach for a condom when the box was right on his nightstand, but he never would’ve thought that this would happen. 

And then the soul-crushing guilt came crumbling down on him. He’d left you for Raccoon City. When you were pregnant. With his child. 

“When did you find out?” His voice cracked when he asked the question, blue eyes stinging with the threat of a substance that hadn’t rolled down his face in what felt like years: tears. 

You bit your lip, looking back up from the ground and into his eyes. The apologetic look on your face only made him sniffle, confirming that Scotty was indeed his. “Two days after you left,” you whispered. 

“Why didn’t you try to find me?” Leon’s voice now sounded hurt. If only he’d known just two days earlier, he never would’ve left. Hell, his life may have turned out somewhat decent instead of the clusterfuck it currently was. Maybe, he’d still be a cop. “File for child support, something?” 

“Leon,” you let out exasperatedly. “I thought you were dead. I spent the entire nine months mourning you and trying to figure out what to tell him when he grew up and asked where his father was.” 

Leon ran a hand over his face, looking up at the sky as he tried to will the tears not to fall past his lashes. He couldn’t cry now, because if he did, he’d never stop. “I never should’ve left,” he whispered, taking a deep, controlled breath to try and get a grip on his emotions. “I should’ve just stayed there, with you.” 

You frowned and took a step towards him again, placing your hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort. “You can’t blame yourself,” you tried your best to give him some sort of ease. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. That isn’t your fault.” 

Leon swallowed hard, finally looking back down at you. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from letting a few hot tears roll down his face. “I can’t even tell you what I went through,” he choked out. “And all this time, all these years, I had a kid? I had a family that thought I was dead?” 

When he started to tremble, it felt like a thousand needles had driven through your heart. Clearly, in your time apart, something had broken Leon. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as you rubbed his back. “Hey, hey,” you whispered against his chest. “Shh, it’s okay.” 

His grip around you could be considered crushing as his forearms dug into your ribs, pulling you into him with all of his strength. You could feel his tears staining your shirt as he buried his face in your neck, hiding himself as he displayed his emotions for the world to see. 

“I have a son,” Leon choked out through his shuddering but soft sobs, words muffled by your skin. The pain cut deep through him, torturing him as he realized he’d missed six years of his child’s life. For all he knew at this moment, Scotty had grown up believing that his father was dead. Whether or not you’d told him the “truth”, the damage had already been done. 

“We have a son,” you corrected him softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as you held him in your arms. You didn’t know what to feel at that moment. The man you loved had suddenly reappeared, cheating death in your mind and abruptly entering your life. And before you could carefully tell him, the truth had been revealed. 

“You can meet him,” you started, still speaking in a soft, soothing tone as your lips pressed against the shell of Leon’s ear. “You just can’t tell him who you are, right now. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?” 

He nodded against you, sniffling as he tried to reel himself back in. This was not how he’d expected this trip to go. But maybe, there was some light at the end of Leon’s tunnel, after all. 

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Leon grunted as he limped down the corridor of the airport, feeling every ounce of pain radiating all over his body. Not even seven hours after having gotten the tar beat out of him by Maria Gomez, and getting infected with the T-virus just to be vaccinated not long after, his body definitely wanted to give out on him right now. 

But, he didn’t have time to lay out on the floor and give his aching muscles a rest. He was already late, thanks to an unwanted delay in flight plans, and he had a forty-five minute drive to his destination. The event started in thirty minutes. 

The man didn’t bother to change out of his mission gear, instead abandoning his tactical vest and holsters in the backseat of his Jeep after he’d gotten his luggage. His beloved and dearly departed Ducati’s keys laid abandoned as well, a sore reminder of his short time in San Francisco. Leon sped out of the airport parking lot, taking off for the suburbs of D.C. with one thing on his mind. 

He didn’t even bother to tell you that he’d landed, instead doing as best as he could to get there on time. He owed it to you, and to Scotty, to at least show up for this. 

After getting caught in a roadblock, Leon did something he never thought he’d do. He’d flashed his DSO badge to the officer, mumbling something about “official business” that would definitely make his way back to his supervisor, considering he’d gotten out of a ticket for going 60 in a 45. But right now, he didn’t care. 

He finally pulled into the parking lot of the high school, circling around three times before he found a parking spot. He almost forgot to lock the Jeep as he rushed inside, making his way towards the gymnasium. They’d just cut off the lights, making it a lot harder to find you in the bleachers until he saw you waving your arms. 

“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, just gonna scooch past you real quick,” he spouted off to every person he cut in front of, inching his way down the row of plastic benches until he got next to you. Leon sat down with a huff once you’d moved your purse from the spot you’d saved him, resting his hands on his knees. “Did I miss anything?” 

“Nothing important,” your daughter, Bella, huffed as she scrolled through the phone she was always glued to. “Nothing but boring speeches so far.”

Leon reached out, yanking it from her hands and tucking it into his back pocket. He held a hand up when she tried to protest. “Ah,” he interrupted. “Pay attention. If I can make it, you can get off your phone for twenty minutes.” 

You laughed softly as she scowled and looked back towards the stage. Leaning against your husband, you interlaced your fingers with his. “How’d it go?” 

“Awful,” Leon grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand. “Don’t be surprised if I’m purple under my clothes.” 

Before you could reply, the principal took her place on stage again and announced the start of the senior class. After reading off names, she finally got to the K’s. You and Leon both leaned forward in your seats, eyes glued to the caps and gowns until you saw the head of floppy blonde hair making his way towards the podium. 

“Scotty Kennedy,” the woman announced. You could feel Leon squirming beside you, trying to hold in any noise until your son had actually accepted his diploma. “Following in his father’s footsteps, he will be attending the DC Metropolitan Police Academy in the Fall.” 

As soon as the diploma touched Scotty’s fingers, Leon leapt up from his seat. Usually not one to draw much attention to himself, this was definitely one of those rare moments he expressed his excitement. Using two fingers to whistle loudly, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out towards the stage. 

“That’s my boy!”