Disclaimer: Don't own 'em if'n you know 'em.

Author's note: Pretty self-explanatory chapter title... Goes into Madre's background a little bit, as discussed between myself and a friend of mine. Which- incidentally- spawned off into a few inside jokes...

Predator: Epilogue

Leon watched from a nearby hill as the flames burst up from the ground, consuming and destroying everything within its path. Shaking slightly, he holstered his gun and let loose a sigh of relief. Finally- it was over...

Turning, he trudged further up the hill, maneuvering around the trees. The fresh air was nice- a complete change from the recycled air down in the base- and it invigorated him a little bit as he continued up to the designated rendezvous point. The chopper would meet him there.

He still had all the papers he had gathered during his time down there; he would have to surrender them to his superiors when he got back, but he had a few friends that would be able to help him out on the inside- his mission wasn't over quite yet.

At the top of the hill, he shielded his eyes from the backwash of the helicopter as it came down for a landing. He approached as the blades slowed and the engine idled; the side door opened and a uniformed man jumped out, approaching him and extending an arm to take hold of his.

“Mr. Kennedy,” he yelled over the noise of the wind and motor. “We weren't sure you were gonna make it!”

Leon said nothing as they walked to the helicopter together, instead keeping his sight on the interior of the chopper.

“We weren't given any details on it, but damn- it sounded like you were the only one that could get it done! Did you get any data?” he asked as he let Leon board first before following him.

“More than I wanted to know,” came his response as he sat down on a seat and buckled himself in. Which was true, but ultimately the information would be very useful.

“Any other survivors?”

He merely shook his head.

He patted his shoulder. “I'm sure you did what you could.” He then turned to the pilot. “Let's get the hell out of here Jimmy- this man needs a drink!”

As he watched the trees drop away below him, Leon caught sight of the plume of smoke that was just beginning to diminish in the obliterated ruins. The wind picked up and the cloud began to disperse; that was the last he saw of it before the helicopter turned and flew away.

10 days later...

Nobody looked at the sandy brown haired man that stared at the front page of a newspaper as he pretended to read it, nor did he look at anyone else. Occasionally a light would flash by the windows as the subway continued through the tunnel, but the lights inside remained on. His piercing blue eyes never moved from the paper.

His contacts from within the organization had proved useful- he had gotten a copy of certain pieces of information, which were now sitting quietly in a memory chip in his shirt pocket. He didn't tamper with the originals; the papers he had taken from the Montana base were safely tucked away in a government facility- he only had scans of the ones he wanted. However, it would be enough.

He had gotten a hold of Claire shortly after the end of his mission and had agreed to meet her in New York- she had reunited with her brother, so he would be along as well. Although they had corresponded before, he had never actually seen Chris Redfield- this would be the first time they would meet face to face. He was later told that Jill Valentine would be with them, another name he had heard of but didn't have a face to associate it with. It would be good to meet them all; it sounded like Claire had had quite an adventure the last time she had contacted him, and he wanted to know more. They had a lot of catching up to do- he had the vacation time coming, having been a good little secret service agent and all.

Okay, so that wasn't entirely true- he had kept one artifact to himself rather than surrendering it to the authorities: Madre's necklace. He had hidden it from his superiors- and got away with it- but for a very good reason- he wanted to return it to her family. So when his vacation started the day after he got out of the Montana base, he searched the newspapers to gather info on her; a task that wasn't hard to do, as she was on the list of people that had recently gone missing. However, her case had been different- everyone believed she had been murdered, even though no trace of her had been found anywhere. In her last letter she had written in the base, she had specifically written a sentence directed to a certain person. As it turned out, this person was her fiancé- also the man suspect for her murder.

According to what he had told police, they had gone out together one night and were mobbed- he was knocked out, and she was raped. She became pregnant as a result. This became an almost constant dispute for them; they hadn't wanted a child to begin with, but she felt that since the birth was now inevitable, she should have it; he, however, didn't want the baby, and thought she should have an abortion. After a particularly heated argument, she had left with a friend to go hiking up in one of the larger paths along the many hills- this was the last time anyone ever saw her. Several other hikers saw her boyfriend leaving the park in his car shortly before her friend had called the police, claiming her missing. He claimed he had gone there to try to talk to her again- he knew the pregnancy was making her moody and emotional- but he chickened out before even leaving the car. Although very few seemed to believe him, he was never tried or convicted for her murder- there was no body, and no physical evidence connecting him to her murder. He still lived in their apartment they had once shared- that was where Leon had met him after knocking on the door.

It was dark hair and eyes that met his when the door cracked open, not even enough for him to get a look inside the house. The voice that followed was cautious.

“Can I help you?”

Pulling out his wallet, Leon showed him his government ID. “My name is Leon Kennedy. I'm here to talk to you about your fiancée.”

The younger man seemed to tense. “Look, I already told you people a hundred times- I didn't kill her!”

“I believe you.”

That seemed to surprise him a little bit, and the stony anger seemed to fade from his dark eyes a little. He hesitated, unsure if he could trust the blue eyed man on the other side of the door.

“I know what happened to her.”

More surprise, and a second later the door shut, the clanking of a chain lock coming through the wood before the door opened again, this time unrestricted.

“All right. Come in and let's hear what you have to say.”

He stepped inside, glancing around. Mail was piled up on the table in the living room, one of them open and visible- the sender of that particular piece had written “TURN YOURSELF IN” in red marker. A trash bin was nearby, already full of more letters- most likely similar to that one. The floor was not vacuumed and the kitchen was unswept, dirty dishes heaped in the sink. Apparently being accused of murdering your fiancée made household chores insignificant. Not that he could blame him- his own apartment looked similar.

The younger man shut the door behind the government agent before walking over to the table, unceremoniously pushing the pile back with an arm. Several pieces fell to the floor when they passed the edge, but he paid them no mind. Instead he pulled out a chair before sitting in the one next to it. He gestured towards the other chair for the older man to sit in it before folding his arms.

“Tomorrow there will be an official government release regarding everyone that has disappeared,” he began as he sat. “You name will be cleared of all suspicions and the incident will be removed from your record.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?”

Leon held back a sigh. He was hoping the guy wouldn’t jump to the point like that… “She is. I’m sorry.”

He put his left elbow on the table, using that hand to wipe down his face. He had apparently thought she had been for a while, but that didn’t make it any easier for him. Leon could sympathize.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you much, but I did find something I think you should have.” Reaching into his pocket, he fished out an object and set it on the table.

Removing his hand from his face, the young man could only stare for a few moments as he recognized the three pearls and small diamond. Finally he reached out and took it, holding the ornament in a hand that began to shake just a little bit. “… Her necklace…”

“I figured it was special to her, since she went through hell to get it back.”

He swallowed. “It was. Her grandmother gave it to her after they found out she was dying; she almost never took it off since then...” He put a hand over his mouth as his eyes developed a definite shine.

“There's something else,” Leon continued, fishing through another pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper in an envelope. “She wrote a letter during her last few minutes”- he didn't consider her time as Madre as “living”- “and in it she addressed her family- and more specifically, you.” Pulling the paper from the envelope and unfolding it, he spread it out on the table before him and turned it so the younger man could read it. All but the second to last paragraph was blocked out with black marker- he didn't need to know how horribly she had died. His name in the paragraph was still blurred- as it was a copy of the sheet he had pulled from the printer in the base- but the rest was readable. The dark eyes blinked several times as he looked over the words, seeming to linger over the last few. Several moments later he spoke, but his words were muffled by the hand over his mouth.

“What?”

The hand curled into a lose fist, but remained over his mouth- almost like he was about to cough into it. “We were celebrating. We had gotten a little... out of hand one night, and when she realized she was late, we were worried she could have been pregnant. When the test came back negative, we went out to celebrate- that's when we were mugged.” He slowly inhaled a shaky breath. “All I remember is getting shoved and hitting my head on the bricks, and her screaming...”

Leon was quiet for a little bit. No doubt this was all still a trauma for him, and getting confirmation that his fiancée was dead probably wasn't helping any. Furthermore, there was no body for him to put to rest- she had been burned to nothing in the explosion, a fact that he would never be aware of; for all he knew, her body could be lying somewhere and rotting.

“I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but the case is still being held confidential by the government. I'm putting my job at risk as it is.”

The hand suddenly dropped from his mouth, but his elbow remained on the table. The dark eyes reflected how much he needed to know what he was about to ask next. “Did- did she suffer? Was it quick?”

That was a hard question to answer. He had seen people get eaten by zombies before, and those usually lasted only about thirty seconds after the first bite. However, those were usually a group of zombies- unless the first bite hit a major vein, it could have been a few minutes before she finally died if it had been only one. No doubt that felt like an eternity when it came to being devoured, not to mention how much terror must have been going through her at the time.

“... A few minutes, at most.”

The younger man hung his head, his face out of the government agent's view. That didn't keep him from seeing the drops that splattered against his pants and the floor beneath him, his chest jumping a little as his other hand rose to block the flow.

That was about a week ago.

The same dark hair and eyes looked back at him now, this time as a newspaper clipping he was holding over the front page the other passengers suspected he was reading. Apparently, a few days after Leon had met him, the young man had swallowed twenty pills and took a nap. He was now staring at his obituary.

They had held his funeral three days ago; Leon had still been in Montana at the time, so he went. Although he had mostly kept to himself- save offering his condolences to his parents- he had kept his ears open. What he didn't learn from the discussions of the people around him he used his government ID to get from the coroner and the police. From what he had gathered, he had been found on their couch- the same couch that was a gift from her parents, and that had been in the house she had lived in when she lived with her parents- that they would often nap on. He had had one hand on his chest, which was closed in a fist when rigor mortis had settled in. After struggling to pry his hand open, they discovered he was tightly clutching his fiancée’s necklace. According to the family he had overheard talking during the funeral, the jewelry was returned to her parents, who gave it to her brother, in case he ever married and had a daughter.

The speakers overhead crackled to life as the train slowed down. Recognizing his stop, he rose to his feet, joining the rush of people as they flooded out through the doors. He briefly disappeared in the herd, moving with the flow as everyone hurried to get where they needed to go. A hundred footsteps later he blinked as the bright sunlight struck his eyes, making him squint until they adjusted.

The cafe was relatively small, with several tables and chairs on a patio that was constructed over the sidewalk. Rather than going the extra distance through the building, he opted instead to take the stairs that took him directly to the patio. His hands in his pockets, he took his time, hearing his footsteps clang dully on the metal. He didn't look at anyone else seated up there, rather right away finding a table isolated from the others. Four chairs- it would do.

As soon as he sat down a waiter approached him. A high school kid looking for a summer job, apparently, but still seemed to put some effort into his work. “Anything I can get you, sir?”

Leon glanced up. “Just a water for now; I'm waiting for some friends to show up.”

The kid nodded, tucking the notepad and pencil back into the dark green apron he wore that matched the color of the patio and furniture. He disappeared inside the building.

Leaning back in his chair, Leon crossed one leg over the other as he pulled an arm back to rest it on the back of the chair. The slight breeze that found its way though the tall buildings made his sandy brown bangs- the ones that liked to stubbornly hang in his face- wave a little bit. He had had them cut evenly at the time of the Raccoon City incident- it was his first day on the job, after all, and he wanted to make a good first impression. It turned out surviving was the best first impression he would be making that day...

A glass of water was suddenly put in front of him, and he sat up, internally startled but not showing any outward sign of it. He murmured a thanks as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward against the table, taking the glass. He didn't really hear the waiter's reaction as he brought the glass to his lips, watching the kid's white shirt walk away from the corner of his eye as he surveyed the area around him.

It was a good spot- in the back corner, meaning they would see if anyone approached, making it harder for someone to “accidentally” overhear without them knowing. So far, the tables around him were fairly empty- most people preferred the nice air-conditioned interior- so they wouldn't have to worry about anyone sitting nearby for a while. There would be four of them; sitting one on each side, there would be at least two pairs of eyes on each direction. Although their position would be a bit public, if they spoke quietly enough they should be able to speak freely.

The sound of footsteps coming up the metal stairs caught his attention and he lowered the glass, keeping his gaze neutral as he watched to see who it was coming up.

The first thing he saw was short brown hair, almost in a military buzz. The guy was buff- not absurdly so, but he looked strong enough to hold his own in a fight. He wore a faded green tanktop and comfortable fitting jeans. Behind him followed two smaller figures- both female. He rose to his feet as he recognized the smallest in a vest, hair up in a ponytail. He knew of only one girl that dressed like that...

Sure enough, the girl's eyes met his and a smile instantly split her face, the hand gripping the strap of her pack over a shoulder tighter as she suddenly charged forward, brushing past her brother- he assumed- as an excited call of “Leon!” escaped her.

He couldn't help but to smile as the girl ran right up to him, throwing her arms around him and almost knocking him over. He chuckled as he returned the hug; the last time this had happened was with Ashley back in Spain...

“Long time no see,” he greeted as she let him go.

The other two moved to stand beside her, and Leon moved his focus to the other man. “You must be Chris.”

With a smile, he offered a hand. “I've been meaning to thank you in person,” he said as they shook hands. “For watching over Claire in Raccoon City.”

“Hell of a lot better than trying to do it alone,” he replied, “but I imagine you already know what that's like.”

They released, and Chris motioned towards the other woman. “This is Jill. She was one of the other S.T.A.R.S. members that managed to get out of there.”

Refocusing his attention, he offered his hand to the woman. She took it with a strong grip and a smile.

“Jill Valentine.”

“Good to finally meet you; I've heard quite a bit.”

“Most of it good, I hope,” she said with something between a smirk and a grin.

That made him chuckle. “Let's just say it's an honor.”

Introductions over, they all sat down- Chris across from him, Claire to his right, and Jill to his left. The waiter returned, taking their orders- waters for Chris and Jill, while Claire took a Coke- and once they were delivered, the four all leaned up against the table in their chairs, effectively forming a semi-private huddle without looking too conspicuous.

“So,” began Chris. “Claire tells me you’ve been in Montana lately.”

He nodded as he swallowed a sip of his water. “Been keeping busy.” With his free hand, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope while briefly scanning the area with his eyes to ensure nobody was watching. Once he deemed it safe, he set the envelope on the table and slid it over to Chris, entrusting him with the chip and its contents. “So has Wesker.”

End

Author's note: Yup. That's it. The group swaps info about their adventures and what they learned, hang out for a while, then go their separate ways- Chris and Jill heading for Russia and who knows where Leon and Claire end up... Although I'd like to see Steve make a comeback. Maybe like Wesker, but not evil. Maybe in another game where Leon and Claire pair up again.