Wooo~ I'm pretty proud of myself. Writing like crazy! Good news, found a decent Let's Play/Walkthrough to use to help keep this all accurate as possible! And I started Leon's campaign again~ Oh joy!

I wanna thank everyone for the follows! As well as the favorite and even the reviews! Thank you so, so, SO much! You have no clue how happy they made me! And made me want to proofread even more and get to writing Chapter 3! So yeah. Motivation via reviews/follows/faves works. But right now I'm in that stage where I'm just like "writewritewritewrite" regardless. They make me happy nonetheless. ;u;

SI/OC is...kind of a bitch. Which by the way I should state, the language in this is pretty bad. And probably will continue to be. So if you're sensitive. She's a big potty mouth. Yeah. Anyways, she's kind of a bitch in this chapter, but she won't be for long! But I mean...she does have a good reason to be. At least in my opinion.

But I digress.


disclaimer: i don't own RE. Not Helena. And sadly not Leon. Just my SI/OC and anyone I toss in at random! Enjoy!

chapter two.

So, let's just say I didn't exactly feel very welcome. (I shouldn't be complaining, it's not like I want to be welcome) After witnessing Leon Kennedy shoot my Uncle, and being told by some woman named Ingrid Hunnigan that I had to go with the two agents on their mission to uncover the truth at some Cathedral, I'd walked about a couple of feet, walked into a half open door in the same hallway where the President's office was, and managed to scare the shit out of myself. I mean, how was I supposed to know the guy in the chair was dead? And how was I supposed to know that we were supposed to be 'incognito', as in no screaming at all? As soon as the dead guy fell to the floor out of that chair, I screamed and I swear I almost pissed myself. What? Seriously. Leon and Helena had to literally grab me and drag me out of that room. I was frozen solid. Honestly you couldn't blame a girl.

Leon stopped us before opening the door. He spoke directly to Helena, both of them ready to fly through the door and shoot someone. "If you see one of 'em, aim for the head. It's your best bet."

Heading through the door—dramatically might I add—, Leon and Helena did a sweep, checking for any hostiles, while I eyed the reception below. I must have had a sad expression on my face, because Leon put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze. I brushed him off, not too nicely, refusing to look at him. I was still hurting from what I'd seen. What he had done just a couple minutes ago. Composing myself once again into that emotionless façade, I listened to the agents speak.

"This was where the reception was going to be. They'd all be here eating dinner right now if…" The guilt in Leon's voice was unmistakable, and I felt my heart clench tightly. The burning fire of hatred was still there, but I knew it was significantly lessening the more I heard Leon speak of earlier or even a hint about it, the more I heard Leon's regret and anguish. I'd only heard him speak of it about two times, but those two times were enough to make my heart break. I didn't understand it either, normally it was easier to control, my emotions and thoughts, my façade, but here and now it seemed so much more difficult. I felt myself slipping up way too many times to count.

"You think anyone survived?" Helena, I was starting to see that she was the more hopeful, emotional agent.

"I hope so."

We continued on, Leon leading the way, Helena behind me, putting me between the two of them.

"I can't believe this is happening. It's just like Raccoon," the male said, far away sounding. My eyebrows shot up at this, but I remained silent. I had no reason to speak.

"The Raccoon City incident," the brunette muttered behind me. "You were one of the survivors."

Survivors? There had been survivors? My mind raced, trying to recall if Adam had spoken to my step-father about anything of the sort. Nothing came up; however, I was sure there was something there.

"Yeah…I'll never forget it."

No doubt. I don't think anyone would—

Leon's next words caused me to tense up. Anger spreading through me. My blood boiled.

"We're going to this Cathedral of yours. But if you really had a hand in this, you can kiss your freedom goodbye."

He seriously had the audacity to say that.

I couldn't stop the sarcastic laugh that slipped from my tightly pursed lips. Both agents stopped, but I kept walking, passing Leon right by. "Maybe you shouldn't be saying that and sounding all high and mighty," I said, before turning to look at him. "After all, you shot the President. No matter if he was a zombie or not. You're in just as much shit as she is. And without proof that he was a zombie well…as far as I know…freedom is but a mere distant memory for both of you." I laced every word with the precise amount of venom. My tone was ever so condescending.

I wasn't always this way. In fact, I was rather polite and kind. It wasn't a very good day though, and these people had rubbed me the wrong way. I didn't plan on respecting them at all. I didn't plan on being sympathetic, because I was hurt, and human nature played a bigger picture, making it seem just fine to be hurting someone else just as much, if not more, as they had hurt you.

So what if it made me look like a bully.

I didn't actually care.

Turning away, I walked down the remaining flight of stairs, and heard Helena murmur a simple and short 'I know', before they began moving once again. My eyes glanced over the hall before loud footsteps were heard from way far in the back. I didn't wait, adrenaline suddenly coursing through me, and raced past two long tables, both having chairs litter the walkways making it impossible to get through, and managed to get through the walkway between tables two and three. Leon and Helena called my name, but my body protested, and raced through tables one and two, zig-zagging through the chairs blocking my path and down yet another pair of tables.

I slid to a halt, staring straight at the door to the kitchen, I assumed. The agents were at my side in a minute. Feeling eyes on me, I looked to my left.

Leon looked pissed, giving me this look that seemed to say 'you're-becoming-troublesome-so-stay-put-and-stop-or-this-is-going-to-get-ugly'. Challenge accepted.

"Don't run off like that again," he ordered.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

The male ignored that, hurrying towards the doorway. We followed, and I jumped when pots and pans crashed to the floor.

"Shit! What the hell," I exclaimed, and was shoved quickly behind Helena.

Getting tired of being shoved!

"In the back!"

I barely had time the catch up to the racing agents. We sped through the kitchen and then down a corridor into the back of it where once again I almost pissed myself, because a trashcan fell over on its own. In the door on the right, down the end of the hall, distinctive sounds of a man coughing could be heard. My mouth was drying up, and my heart was racing faster than ever before. With a slight moment of hesitation, both agents burst into the room, guns pointed to start unloading some rounds.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, in fact, I'm pretty sure none of us were sure. Seeing an actual man allowed me to release the breath I'd been holding in. Not a zombie. Thank god.

"Wait! Don't shoot," he begged, and then exploded into a fit of harsh sounding coughs. I bit my lip, starting to move towards him as Leon asked if he was alright.

When he finally stopped coughing, the man looked up. "The fog…'

My eyebrows knitted, and I looked to Helena who was questioning my own thoughts out loud.

"The fog…it came out of nowhere," he elaborated, but I still didn't understand. What fog? There hadn't been any fog when I'd got here. Could it have swept in when I'd gotten inside? But how? How could it have so fast? Shaking my head, my body grew rock solid as sounds came from somewhere far behind us. An inhuman roar and then a female's scream.

The man promptly flipped his shit, yelling 'Liz', and then trying to take off after the sound. Leon attempted to hold him back. "Wait," he grunted. "It's too dangerous." The distressed man broke free however.

Glancing down, I noticed he'd dropped something, and I picked it up carefully. A picture of a girl lit up the screen. She was pretty, smiling with brown locks pulled back into a tight braid. The man was back in an instant, taking it from me and then saying, "My daughter…she's all alone! If we don't do something—"

Leon's hand clasping firmly over his mouth, cut him off. I felt a little bad, because I was thankful for him doing that. To be honest the man was freaking me out. I was already on the edge, but he was making it worse and worse by the minute.

"Alright, I get it," Leon said. "But if you don't keep it down you won't live to save her. You understand?"

The man answered with a nod, and I moved to stand close to him. He didn't seem to notice, glancing down at the picture of his daughter. It looked like he was mourning her possible death already, but maybe that was just me. I reach out to grab his shoulder, to show him that we cared, that I cared, and that we'd find her, but I hesitated, and dropped my arm back to my side. I couldn't. I didn't know why, but I just couldn't assure him those things. Maybe because I was waiting for someone to do it for me. Maybe because I was waiting for my Uncle's killer to finally get fed up with my bitch-yness and yell at me that he was sorry, that there was nothing he could do, that he was so, so sorry. I didn't think that would happen—

Wait. What was I thinking!?

Shut up, Nikki. There's no way in hell you want him to do that. You don't care. You don't care how bad he feels. Just shut up and keep moving.


Startled, I looked at Helena who was waiting for me to follow. With a nod, I hurried along and made it to the man's side as we entered the kitchen, listening to the sounds of shattering glass and rustling objects that sounded so far away. The lights were out, and I narrowed my eyes trying to see. Thankfully, Leon's light, a tiny little flashlight in his ear, lit up enough for me to see. Through the reception tables, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The atmosphere was so tense; it caused the hair on my skin to stand.

"I hate this," I found myself saying. My body shook a little. I'd never been in a situation like this before, but I knew I'd always hate it. I was silently wishing I was somewhere else. Preferably back in the apartment Zoe and I shared. Eating frozen pizza and watching the funny TV shows. Letting myself enjoy that alternate reality, I barely noticed the chandelier fall from the ceiling and crash, blocking the way to the stairs. I assume I'd been way to close to it, heading in that direction for some unknown reason, and it caused Leon to grab and me and pull me into him. Puzzled, I blinked and looked up at the man.

"Be careful," he told me, before letting me go and moving away, closer to the once beautiful object. "That's quite a draft."

"I don't think it was a draft." Reaching out, I gripped the end of his leather jacket, and gulped hard. My eyes were wide, staring at the burning part of the chandelier. I no longer tried to hide my fear. It was much harder to, and not worth the effort.

"We have to find her," the man said, moving to the door.

"We will. Just stay close," Leon assured him, and then glanced down to my hand. I jerked back, letting go of it like I'd been stung by a bee, suddenly realizing what I'd been holding on to, and whom.

"Thank you," was the last thing the man uttered before we entered even more tense territory.

"Your daughter…Liz was it? Can I see the picture again?" We were in the room with the books under glass. The man had yet again broken into his typical coughing fit.

Now a little better, he nodded and handed me it. My gaze traveled over it one last time before I handed it back.

"Liz is a really pretty name. It suits her." I smiled. It was weak and a bit strained, but the look on the man's face, the bright happy look that engulfed it, was worth it all. I was putting forth effort to make him feel better, at least take his mind off the emanate possibility that his daughter may not even be here anymore, and that female scream we heard earlier could be someone else's. Or worse…she was dead.

"You think so?" He seemed so happy, it was contagious, and I found myself smiling genuinely.

"Yeah! I wouldn't lie about names. I am a girl after all." I laughed. "I can't wait to meet her."

We carried on; passing by the elevator I'd used to get up onto this floor. It was—no surprise there—powerless, like the rest of the building. Luckily, the man worked here and had the keys. He also had a car in the underground parking lot. I didn't say I had one too. Something told me that even if we had the car, either one of them; it wouldn't help our situation, whatever our situation was. It was still a mystery to me. All I knew was we were going to the Tall Oaks Cathedral. How we were getting there was as much a mystery as where it was to me.

The man pushed a piece of debris out of the way, and we rounded a corner, only to find yet another long hallway for us to walk down. I kept quiet, not wanting to complain.

The door we were heading to was the last door after another turn, near the end of the hallway, yet that wasn't the thing I was most focused on. It was the thing on it. Bloody handprints. Smudged a bit. Still fresh. My skin crawled. I wasn't very religious, but I found myself praying. Praying that what ever was beyond that door, it wouldn't be bad, or at least not that bad. Something Leon and Helena—no we could handle. I wasn't going to stand back and be useless, no matter what they said or how scared I felt.

Leon opened the door cautiously, ever so slowly and both their guns were up in no time. Slow steps inward. Slow, deathly slow.

And then someone jumped into view. She was covered in blood, holding her side like she was injured, and fell to the floor.


I grunted as the man rushed passed me to the girl's side.

This was his daughter? This was the girl I'd seen—we'd seen in that picture? I couldn't believe it. Eyes sweeping around the room, I took in the blood stains on the floor, and the other two bodies, one lying on top of the other.

My throat closed up and I found myself looking at Leon. He met my blue-green orbs with his gray-blue ones and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze, a harder squeeze than the one he'd given my shoulder before, and pulled me towards him. This time I didn't pull away. I didn't protest. I didn't argue. I didn't do anything. I couldn't. I was an icicle, frozen, cold, and shivering.

"This time do what I say. Stay behind me."

I made no move to protest. I didn't say a word.