Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wesker’s boots click over the tile as he uses his high security clearance keycard to go wherever he likes. Right now? Straight to the offices to scavenge off of important documents like a vulture. It had been too simple to kill all the guards and corner the scientists; Join us, or die. The choice was easy, really. 

Some were just too stupid to comprehend it. He swipes the card across one of the panels and the door clicks, allowing him to push it open with ease.

A normal office, one with trinkets strewn across the desk and All sorts of papers. There’s no nameplate, so Wesker has no clue who it belongs to, but he leans over the desk to begin hacking into the computer anyway.

Whiiiiine.  

Wesker freezes. He snaps his head in the direction of the sound at the same time a ball rolls into his boot, bouncing off and rolling underneath the desk. He hadn’t realized there was a dog here. Well—his eyes set upon this dog, and he feels slightly conflicted. Sharp jawline, fluffy blonde hair, floppy ears… torn and barely fitting clothes. 

The dog keeps its distance, tail wagging back and forth hopefully. Wesker’s lips form a tight line. “Here, boy.” His command is obeyed immediately, and though the experiment ushers over on two legs, he drops back down to four as soon as he’s where he’s wanted, head butting Wesker’s hands with an excited yip. “Alright now. Let me see your tag.” Wesker tilts the experiment’s head up, scritching his chin to keep him occupied while he turns over the tag on his collar. Leon.  

The name sounded familiar, but Wesker had met a lot of people. Finally, he retracts his hands and looks into those hopeful, stupid eyes. Fuck, this one might be useless but it’s… uncharacteristic of a bioterrorism cell to keep such things around. Leon hadn’t growled or attempted to bite; his claws were neatly trimmed so he didn’t scratch himself or others; he was a pet, not a weapon. 

“Sit there and be patient, alright, Leon?” Wesker orders as he sits down in the office chair, deciding he could take a little bit more time here rather than just rushing through it, gathering up all the data on a usb and then leaving for the next office. Leon wiggles closer, setting his chin on Wesker’s knee.

Wesker doesn’t shake him off. He pats the experiment’s soft head, just for a moment before cannibalizing off of the info on the computer. Not much, but there is a diary the owner left behind which Wesker clicks into. It’s not a normal diary—one with sappy shit. No, this one was made specifically to detail Leon’s creation. Wesker clicks off, deciding that it would be best to save for another time. 

Wesker finishes up and pushes the chair back, dislodging the warm weight on his leg. Leon had been quiet and good, staring up at him with an adoring expression the entire time. He obviously had no survival instinct whatsoever. He even sits patiently as Wesker goes to the door and pushes it open. Truly, Wesker thought Leon would have followed out of desperation, but no. His order is kept. 

“Come along, then, Leon. We have places to be.” He pats his thigh, and Leon yips in excitement, ears bouncing on his blonde head as he bounds forward. He remains on two legs this time, trembling with excitement. It doesn’t appear that he got to leave this room much, and upon a last second glance around, Wesker confirms it. 

A dog bed, water bowl, food bowl. “I won't be feeding you out of a dog bowl. It’s uncouth.” He says, leading the dogboy out. Leon doesn’t understand, but he responds to the tone, a soft whine leaving his throat. He gets a pat on the head for his troubles. Wesker was weird. His voice was gruff and cold, but his hands were nice and friendly. Hard to understand. 

Wesker moves to the next doorway, unlocking it with his keycard. Leon stays at his side the entire time, a newly procured companion that seemed to radiate warmth. Wesker could appreciate that. 

A USSTRATCOM rat found his way into our facility today. All the way to the labs, somehow. Rebecca caught him nosing through our vials. Hilariously enough, the one he’d grabbed was one meant to begin the deconstruction of the human body into that of a dog’s. The higher ups want us to kill him, but I’ve taken on the monumental task of convincing them that he can be useful. 

I have a limited amount of time to do so. Right now, they’re torturing him for information. I can hear his screams when I pass by storage room B. I need to get permission before they kill him or he gives them the information they want.

-Andrew

“Fetch.” Wesker lazily tosses a ball past Leon’s head and the experiment nearly trips over his own feet trying to catch it, barking excitedly. Now that Wesker could really hear them, they sounded like bastardizations of a dog’s noises, not actual barking. Wesker was confident this man could still speak if he tried hard enough. 

He would have to read into the diary more, but for some reason Wesker could only take it in small doses. Something about having Leon try to worm his way into the man’s lap while he was reading, begging to be cuddled with soft whimpers, had made it… difficult to swallow. “USSTRATCOM, huh? I bet I can figure out who you are. I might even be able to brag about it to Chris Redfield, that bastard.” He wasn’t in the same organization, but Chris definitely had a lot of USSTRATCOM friends. 

The faintly slobbery squeaker ball is dropped back into his awaiting palm and Wesker throws it again, watching it hit the wall and bounce off with a thump. Leon tries to change trajectory to catch it as it does, but ends up falling onto his back. Wesker doesn’t even have to ask if he’s alright; the experiment simply rolls over and shakes it off, as if he hadn’t felt it at all. 

Leon retrieves the ball, sitting politely (shaking) as he waits for Wesker to throw it again. “We’ve been doing this for thirty minutes. Aren’t you tired?” Wesker asks the dogboy as he gears up to throw the ball again, cruelly only pretending to throw it. Leon twists, raring to go fetch , only to find the ball is nowhere to be seen.

He slowly turns his head, ears drooping. A soft, pathetic whine leaves his throat and Wesker feels his heart crack. “Damn you,” he growls, tossing the ball past Leon’s head and onto the ground behind him. Leon perks up, following the ball as it rolls, tail waving high in the air until he finally captures it between his hands, stuffing it into his mouth. “Okay! Enough fetch. I’m growing bored, even if you’re too stupid to.” Wesker turns back to the computer screen, usb still inserted. Diary still open. 

Leon whines but settles at Wesker’s feet, tail curling around his legs. He was fine doing whatever Wesker wanted, and if Wesker didn’t want to play, then he would be quiet and good, because Wesker was nice. 

“Okay.” Wesker takes a deep breath, “Let’s keep going, then.” 

I have done a bit of research into the USSTRATCOM employees and have narrowed it down to one in particular. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s very close with the president, and apparently they find us a much greater threat than we realized. I thankfully convinced the higher ups I could make him docile and useless to everyone else, and they agreed to let me begin my experiments as long as it was on my own time and not during otherwise working hours. 

When I first met Leon, he jerked away at my touch. I have never seen a man bleed so much and survive. Though he is weak right now, I have begun injections anyway. He begged me not to; he doesn’t want to become a B.O.W. 

I didn’t bother promising he wouldn’t, although I have zero plans to use him for war. No, he has much too cute a face. 

-Andrew

Wesker’s lip curls as he looks down at Leon, politely laying at his feet, batting the ball back and forth between his hands and trying to catch it with his teeth in his own game of keep-away. The blonde was completely unassuming, but Wesker had a bad feeling about what he’d find in later entries. 

“Here, Leon. Let’s go get something to eat.” He pushes himself out of his chair and Leon follows him, looking forward to a meal. The Kind Woman had forgotten to feed him breakfast this morning, she was about to, but the alarms went off and hurt Leon’s ears. Then they stopped and the Kind Woman did not return. Leon was too good to go rummaging around for his food, though he very well could’ve. 

Wesker makes something simple on the stomach. Rice and veggies with a little bit of soy sauce. He even puts some egg in there, scrambled, so Leon gets a bit of variety in flavor. “I don’t know what you’re normally fed, but get that out of your mind now.” Wesker says as he pats one of the dining room chairs, setting the food in front of it. 

Leon stares at him in confusion for a moment before settling down, and he’s handed a spoon. Leon works it over in his fingers, only vaguely remembering that he used to use one of these. “Eating without utensils is too messy. Use that because I’ll have to clean it up and I don’t want you slobbering all over my table.” Wesker sits down to eat his own meal, keeping one eye on Leon as he struggles to orient the spoon in a way that works.

The scientist allows him to figure it out himself. Humans were smart, and so were dogs, so given enough time Leon should be able to problem solve. 

It takes a few minutes, but Leon does indeed figure out a way to eat without losing half of the food on his spoon to the plate, a happy whine leaving his throat as he tastes the first bite of stir fry. He almost goes back to his old ways of shoving his face into the food and licking the plate clean, but he behaves. He uses the utensil so he doesn’t make a mess. 

Each bite is like heaven to an experiment who’s had nothing but dry kibble, belly full and warm for the first time in a long time. Leon does end up licking the plate clean of rice grains, but it wasn’t on the table so Wesker could ignore it. Wesker enjoys his own meal, even though Leon stares at him the entire time after he finishes up his own. 

“Do you want more?” 

A few yelps in response, the blonde nodding rapidly. Wesker didn’t trust him to be able to get it on his own, so he hauls himself out of his seat to spoon more into Leon’s plate. “Okay. Don’t make yourself sick.” he warns, “I don’t have much for belly aches.” 

Leon doesn’t listen, not when there’s good food in front of him. Unfortunately, Wesker doesn’t hand out thirds, but by the time Leon’s done with the second portion, his belly is very full. He rests his head on the table, tired from the events of the day. He was excited to get to leave, to see new things even if Alpha had disappeared. 

Wesker was better than Alpha in every way, anyway. Leon wanted Wesker to be Alpha, not Alpha. 

The agent has a fever. He tried bashing his head into the wall in an attempt to kill himself, so I chained his neck to the wall. He can’t get enough leverage to hurt himself that way. He’s a little less fun to play with, but that’s not as important as keeping him alive. I administered the second dose, and he is already showing signs of growth on the top of his head and the bottom of his spine. 

He won’t stop screaming. Apparently it’s pretty painful. To keep his vocal chords intact, I gave him some medication to ease the pain. I shouldn’t be wasting unnecessary material on a pet project, but it is what it is. 

Hopefully by the next entry, He will have grown in his new features.

-Andrew 

Wesker groans as Leon shoves his head up underneath his arm, settling himself forcefully between them. “You’re too hot.” Wesker complains. “Why are you so persistent?” It was hard to say ‘no’ to those big blue eyes, and he was really too tired to fight it. Leon gives him a quiet bark in response, settling his head on the pillow. 

Leon had been at the end of the bed at some point, curled up in a ball, but apparently that wasn’t enough for him. Wesker had been fine with giving him his own room to sleep in–there was a guest bed for a reason–but Leon followed him around like a puppy, desperate for his attention, even if he was tired. 

The man finally just elected to go to bed early. 

Leon shuts his eyes and he’s out, quiet snores leaving his lips. While he’s asleep, Wesker takes his chance to examine him a bit closer. The scientists’ smallest clothes didn’t fit–too big–but they looked better than the shit he was wearing before, some remnants of his STRATCOM uniform, torn and stained despite having been cleaned. 

Wesker pulls up each floppy ear, feeling them twitch between his fingers as he rubs the velvety fur. Leon leans into his touch, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “So they don’t hurt,” Wesker muses under his breath, flipping them inside out. Though they have the impression of what a normal dog’s ear would be like, they’re shallow; they don’t lead to much at all. Leon doesn’t even show discomfort as Wesker prods around inside. 

With the knowledge that they amounted to little more than a visual change, Wesker curiously moves onto Leon’s actual ears. They hadn’t changed at all in comparison to a normal person’s, and Wesker knew better than to push. Leon’s tail was a bit more difficult to access, seeing as the experiment was cuddled up to him, fingers curled into paw-like fists that pressed against his chest, tucked between their bodies. 

Instead, Wesker uses his tentacles. It made more sense that the tail would be more of a nuisance, making it more difficult for Leon to stand upright as his balance was thrown off. It would explain the odd hunch he had and his preference to all fours. 

The fur remains consistent with the fur on his ears, almost hair-like but definitely closer to an actual dog’s. Wesker was partial to dogs, but he imagined Leon was most like a golden retriever in personality and appearance. 

Leon growls softly as Wesker gives a soft tug to his tail. Wesker concludes his examination with an apologetic rub between Leon’s ears. Apparently, that hurt. He would have suspected that–Wesker was feeling the urge to test the limits of Leon’s docile nature. 

He probably shouldn’t be. 

Finally, with a sigh, Wesker wriggles down into the dip in his bed and shuts his eyes, hoping tomorrow he’d be strong enough to finish off the journal he’d found so he could move onto more important things. 

It’s been a glowing success! He complains of pain in his ears and tail when I touch them. They haven’t grown much fur yet, but I can see little blonde tufts forming. His tail is extremely sensitive and he tried to kick me when I tugged on it. I ended up punishing him for that. I won’t tolerate a bad dog. 

The next step is training. I believe that will be a little more difficult, but he’s already showing signs of regression with the administration of the third dose. I expect by the fifth I will have my new dog right where I want him. I don’t think going further would be smart, but I will monitor and make changes as things develop.

-Andrew 

The dog knows ‘sit’. He’s extremely intelligent, although he often gets into trouble. I thought about changing his name, but it’s much easier just to reteach him ‘Leon’ than find something new. I am struggling between the punishment and reward phases of training, because Leon constantly fights me. Henry asked me about the bite marks on my arm today. I hope the virus doesn’t transfer through saliva. If it does, things will be a lot more difficult. I’d have to start wearing protective gear when interacting with the dog. 

I will monitor myself to make sure nothing changes. I sent my bloodwork over to the lab to compare against the dog’s. 

-Andrew

Wesker was by no means a late sleeper, but Leon woke him up at 5:45AM. Wesker shoves the experiment’s face away, groaning in annoyance. “It’s too early. Wake me up in fifteen minutes.” Leon does not listen to this order. He’s hungry. He barks, wiggling away from Wesker’s hand and crawls onto his side, putting all 180 pounds of pressure onto the man, knocking the air from his lungs.

Wesker gives up on sleep after that, stumbling out of bed and avoiding Leon as he circles him, pulling on his normal work outfit. 

Breakfast is similar to last night’s dinner, with Leon receiving double the amount that he normally would. Wesker assumes that it has something to do with his transformation; he’s burning more calories than the normal human, and therefore, is hungrier. 

“You’re not much of a B.O.W,” Wesker tells him as he pulls up a second chair to his desk, patting the seat. Leon settles, looking a bit uncomfortable about it; his tail curls over the back of the seat, swaying from side to side. He was normally designated to the floor, but this was nice, too. “Maybe a biologically organic pet. Which is arguably worse.” Leon’s ears droop slightly, and Wesker feels a bit guilty.. “Not that there’s anything wrong with you . I need to get some work done now.” 

Leon was used to Alpha needing to work for long stretches of time. He doesn’t mind resting his head on the cool desk, watching Wesker work from the same level as opposed to looking up to him. His fingers blur as he types and he huffs every so often, facial features shifting minutely. Leon is very aware of them; Alpha was a bit unstable, and so Leon got really good at paying attention . 

Wesker sorts through the files he grabbed from the laboratory, placing some in the ‘to be deleted’ folder, then some in a ‘could be useful’, and ‘definitely useful’ folders. He puts the journal in the ‘definitely useful’ folder to make sure no one deletes it when it goes onto the main servers. The scientist skims the other files, but his mind keeps drifting back to Leon’s. It felt like such a waste. Why would you want to turn anyone into a dog?

Especially one you weren’t even going to use. USSTRATCOM members had extremely unique skills that would be paramount in winning fights. Leon was a goldmine this idiot was sitting on top of, guarding like some sort of shitty dragon. Even worse, it seemed like Leon had started out aggressive and the guy had trained it out of him. He could’ve had so much power at his fingertips and he threw it away because he wanted to create a human-shaped dog. 

“Moron.” Wesker mutters under his breath, anger blistering up in his chest as he uploads everything to the laboratory’s main cloud for his subordinates to deal with. He didn’t want to look at the other files, he wanted to look at Leon’s . Special. Unique. The ramblings of a madman as opposed to a complete assessment. Wesker almost wished it were in the proper form, that way it would feel less like he was reading someone’s stream of consciousness. 

Leon leans closer to him, blue eyes wide and round. He could smell the fury radiating off of the man, instinctively wanting to soothe it, whether for his own safety or for Wesker’s sake. He couldn’t really tell. He never could. Wesker gives him a glance before sighing deeply, reaching out to run his fingers through Leon’s blonde hair. “It’s nothing. You’re pretty emotionally intelligent for someone who had his brain rewired. Don’t worry. We’ll work on it.” Leon presses his head into Wesker’s hand, tail wagging happily. It was nice to be touched without any ulterior motive, although Wesker spoke of things in a way Leon couldn’t quite understand. He could comprehend the words, but could only pick out a few to latch onto. Pretty. Intelligent. Work. 

It sounded positive to him . 

There has been a little lapse in updates to this, but I have made GREAT progress. The dog knows many tricks now, and it rarely bites. Unfortunately, I have been feeling a bit under the weather. I monitored it, and it seems that some of the live cells in the virus infected me too. Not enough to make much of a difference, but I do wonder if it made him respect me more.

I got him a dog collar with his name on it. To prevent the dog from getting suspicious about its origin, I have been feeding it dog food and keeping it in my office. It’s nice to always be greeted with excitement. He knows now that I am in charge, and has given in fully to me. It will do anything I ask, however horrible. 

I almost feel bad about it. 

Almost.

Listed below are the tricks it has learned, with varying degrees of success: 

-Sit

-Lay down

-Up

-Roll over

-Fetch

-Play dead 

-Come

-Follow

-Spin

-Stay

-Crawl

-Circle

-Protect

-Rosebud 

All of the tricks Leon supposedly knew were standard, except one. Wesker got a bad feeling about it. Leon stands next to him, watching him intently as he makes lunch. Those blue eyes were so clear, it made it difficult to focus on the sandwiches. Two for Leon, one for him. “After lunch, I’d like to test out a few of your tricks.” Wesker tells him, and Leon tilts his head to the side, a dopey smile on his lips. 

He gets a soft ‘woof’ in confirmation that Leon understood, or… well, Wesker hoped he understood. “I feel it’s degrading to give you a treat for every time you perform one correctly, so I’ll just give you a bit of ice cream after and consider us even, alright?” 

Treat. Perform. Correct. Give. Even. 

Holy shit. A treat. Leon was gonna get a treat. He can barely focus on his food as he scarfs it down, nearly choking. He wanted to perform his tricks now , so he could get the treat. Chicken? Beef? He’d gotten a steak once or twice, when he’d been really good. It didn’t have any seasoning, but Leon didn’t mind. Any meat was good meat. 

Wesker is a slow eater. He takes his time, and Leon ends up pacing around the living room after he’s released from the kitchen table. He finds his ball under the couch, pawing for it with long arms. He manages to grab it, tugging it from its hiding space with a happy growl just as Wesker finally walks into the room. “Good. We need that.” Wesker tells him, “Bring it to me.” 

Leon obeys, tail wagging, muscles tense. “Fetch.” And he does . When Wesker throws it, he’s on it, panting and drooling as he scoops it up in his mouth. At least Wesker kept his house unsettlingly clean. Leon turns to look at Wesker, puffing his chest out in pride as he returns it to his new friend-master-alpha. “Very good. Sit.” 

The dogboy’s butt hits the floor before Wesker can even finish the word, pupils dilated. Wesker hadn’t given him a treat for successfully performing the tricks, but praise was almost just as good. 

“Lay down.” 

“Roll over.” 

“Play dead.” 

Those were easy. Leon could follow them with ease. It seemed like Wesker was simply running through the list of his commands, ones Leon knew from heart. Though he could run through them himself, he waits for Wesker’s request of it, knowing that randomly doing tricks netted him nothing in the long run.

“Up.”

“Spin.”

“Very good. Impressive. Stay.” Wesker walks across the room and waits half a minute before ordering him to come, and Leon is at his feet in two seconds flat. It felt nice to be given commands again, especially because he knew there must be a reward at the end of it all. “Circle.” Leon circles the man’s body once, and then twice, and then stops in front of him again. Sometimes, Alpha would have him circle until he was too tired to continue, but most of the time he just wanted proof Leon still remembered. 

Leon remembered all of his tricks. 

“I know there’s no threat here, but can you do ‘protect’, Leon? I’d like to see what that is.” Wesker could imagine, but he’d like to see it for himself. Leon tilts his head to the side, registering the request. He then bolsters himself at Wesker’s side, a sharp growl leaving his lips. He bares his teeth, fangs so sharp they nearly cut his own lips, and suddenly Wesker understood why the man doesn’t need his claws to be long. The growling continues, his ears pinned back until Wesker rests a warm palm on Leon’s head, releasing him from the command. “Thank you. You’re very fierce.”

Thank you. Fierce. 

The dogboy breaks out into a grin, leaning his full body weight against Wesker’s leg. Thankfully, Wesker was stronger than him so he didn’t budge. That would’ve been embarrassing. 

Leon performed Crawl and Follow well, and finally, there was just one left. Wesker swallows, wishing Leon could communicate with actual words so he could simply ask about the command rather than make him perform it. The blonde sits expectantly before him, ready to be released or ready for another command. 

“Just one more, alright? Out of curiosity–Rosebud.” 

Wesker regrets it immediately. Leon hadn’t hesitated and that made nausea roil in his belly. Though he had performed plenty of experiments, Wesker had never gone so far as to use them for his own sexual gratification. He pushes Leon’s face away– “Enough. Enough. I understand. Down.” Leon whines in confusion over Wesker’s sudden retraction of the command, but he sits back anyway, licking his lips. 

“Oh-ohkay. Alright, Leon. Come on. Let’s get you a treat.” Wesker, though he was slightly nauseous, would follow through with his promise to get Leon a bit of ice cream. 

“Don’t eat it too fast, Leon. You’ll get a brain freeze.” Wesker warns as he places the bowl in front of the dogboy, and Leon does not listen, chowing down. He grimaces as he bites into the ice cream, the cold burrowing its way into his teeth. He figures out he’s supposed to lick it instead pretty quick, allowing the vanilla flavored treat to melt in his mouth before he swallows it. 

The sudden pounding in his head makes Leon shake it wildly, trying to be rid of it. Wesker doesn’t laugh, he simply writes something down on a napkin and moves on. 

Wesker had wasted enough time on this venture anyway, he needed to get back to his actual work instead of turning Leon into his own pet project. He could worry about Leon when he was done with the more important items on his list.

I have been considering allowing the dog in contact with other members of staff. I showed it to Rebecca, and she recoiled in horror as he tried to lick her hand. I was told off by her, even though we have done infinitely worse things here. It’s curious how the human mind perceives its own morality. Creating monsters is okay, but creating pets is not? She will not speak to me any longer. She always finds excuses to avoid me while we are in the lab together. I overheard her talking to Francine about how she wished she had just let him go when she saw him. 

It’s much too late for that now. I do worry that if someone else comes along, she will avoid alerting anyone to their presence to prevent a similar outcome. I have no plans to continue using this virus as it does not appear to be helpful to the cause, only for one’s own pleasure. Leon is not very good at fighting in his current state, though perhaps the virus can be modified to make the subject more aggressive. 

I have continued to teach Leon tricks. He shows some level of higher intelligence, but he no longer responds to words the way he used to. I fear I may have pushed a little too far in regards to his dosage. I have no plans at this time to try and fix that, however. 

Here is a list of new tricks I have taught Leon: 

-Shake

-Speak

-Retrieve

-Present

-Search

-Howl

-Blossom 

Wesker was definitely not going to be practicing tricks again. He sends Leon’s genome sequence to Rena Santiago, one of the other scientists under his employ. She specialized in genes, and so perhaps she could find a way to reverse engineer what parts of the virus were left in his body. It had been a long time, though, so there might not be any left at all. 

Leon lays on the floor on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes are hazy, probably still recovering from the brain freeze he’d so awfully given himself. Wesker didn’t feel like talking to him at the moment anyway. It wasn’t Leon’s fault, and he knew that. Wesker had done… well, worse, in any other sense to a lot of people. There was a purpose to his madness, though, and not once had he even entertained the idea of his weapons being anything other than that. Weapons . Not… Not toys to be played with, to be used for sex as if he were some sort of beast himself. 

The older blonde distracts himself, throwing himself into his work for a while. Replying to emails, particularly one from Rena that he got as soon as he sent the email off. ‘I’ll see what I can do. Give me a few days.’ ‘Put a rush order on that. I want it done as soon as possible.’  He looks over the enhancements made with various viruses they’d created, particularly the most recent one, U-Virus Beta. It was promising, and he couldn’t wait to become even stronger . 

One doesn’t put all their eggs in one basket, though. Albert Wesker had half a dozen viruses in the works, some based around the plagas, others expanding off the Umbrella’s T-virus, a successful predecessor. B.O.W.s were a lucrative business, one Wesker intended to exploit until the end. 

Word has spread. Rebecca is a fucking liar. She doesn’t care about the stupid dog. All she cares about is being promoted , and to do that she has to get through me .

-Andrew

 I attempted to show Daniel the dog. It was fine at first–I instructed Leon not to get close until Daniel told him to, so there would not be any freakouts like last time. Daniel was also not happy with the state of Leon, finding him obnoxious at the very least and disgusting at the worst. That fool accidentally said one of Leon’s flower commands. I trained him with uncommon conversation items for a reason–if Daniel hadn’t fucked up everything things would’ve been FINE. Leon does not understand why I’m angry with him. 

I’m so mad I could kill him. 

-Andrew

Rebecca came to take the dog. She pointed a gun at me. She won’t get to keep him for long. I dare her to try. Colonel Becker keeps emailing me. I refuse to open them. I know what they’ll say.

I am NOT ending my experiment. Not when it’s been so fucking successful so far.

They just don’t understand.

-Andrew

I’ll KILL THAT BITCH. WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HER SHE’S FUCKING DEAD. IF THEY INTEND TO KILL ME, I’LL TAKE HER WITH ME. 

That was the final entry, not dated or signed. The last stand of a madman who’s plans unraveled like loose wool. Wesker felt great satisfaction in knowing the man had died, probably before the siege. Whoever Rebecca was, it was unlikely she was dead. She was probably somewhere in the lower labs.

Wesker would have to look around. It would do Leon some good to get out of Wesker’s apartment for a while, see some new sights, smell some new things. He pulls himself from his chair, snapping his fingers. “Leon. Come on. We’re going to take a walk.” 

The dogboy snaps back to reality, rolling over and clambering to his feet. Walk? Walk? Walk! He hadn’t been taken for a walk in ever . Wesker really was shaping up to be his favorite person of all time. 

The labs are cold, so Wesker gave Leon a jacket before they left. He doubted the experiment would need it, but it was better to be safe than sorry and have to listen to him whine the entire time. Leon presses into his side as the elevator drops down to the basement floors, deep below the ground. 

He’s still much hotter than Wesker’s own body, like a living furnace. Wesker sort of appreciated it as the environment grew frigid, though he keeps his face carefully schooled into neutrality. 

Ding. 

The elevator doors open and Leon is the first one to step out, tail sweeping low. Uncertain. Wesker follows, and instantly whatever odd looks Leon got were gone, replaced with more understanding. This was not a loose B.O.W., but a contained one. “Sheesh. I got worried for a sec.” one of the scientist murmurs, now anxious for an entirely different reason to the hybrid in their midst. 

“Was anyone named Rebecca brought in a few days ago?” Wesker asks coldly, raking his eyes over the rather messy table. Leon strays from him, careful not to touch anything as he leans over a middle-aged woman’s shoulder, pupils dilated. Curious. 

“H-hello, dog…thing.” she greets him, “It’s uh–shiny, isn’t it?” Her voice is thick with uncertainty, keeping one eye on Albert Wesker as she pours a bit of the pink liquid into a reinforced vial and caps it, placing it in a case. “It’s Uroboros-Omega.” Leon didn’t know what that was, but he nodded anyway, the word having ended up as a keyword his brain latched onto. 

“We’ve been working on it for months. It’s going to create intelligent super soldiers. It’s going to make a lot of money.” She relaxes slightly, finding Leon to not be much of a threat at all. Most B.O.W.s were volatile, including Albert Wesker himself–even if he controlled himself most of the time. Better control came with higher intelligence, and she was questioning the hybrid’s considering he hadn’t spoken, and the most she gets in reply is a happy yip. A terrible, undoglike yip. “So… you came in with the rest of those new B.O.W.s? How come Doctor Wesker has you with him?”

Leon just tilts his head at her and smiles. 

“Rebecca? I… I haven’t really learned the names of the new scientists. S-sorry, sir.”

“I haven’t met any new people named Rebecca. Sorry.” 

“Have you tried another laboratory? Maybe she’s on one of the ones above. Do you know what she does?”

“Rebecca…? Yeah, I–I think that name sounds familiar. She’s new…? Yeah, scared–um… I think she’s here now, in room three, sir.” Finally, He’d gone through nearly the entire group of scientists on the clock and only a single one had taken the time to learn anything about their new coworkers.

He couldn’t blame them, of course, but dammit, maybe he should start doing those fucking ‘community bonding’ exercises to get them to actually pay attention to who’s coming in and out. How were they supposed to weed out rats if they didn’t know everyone?

“Leon!” Wesker calls out from across the room, voice firm. Leon perks up, ears lifted high off his head. “Come on, now.” Leon nudges the friendly scientist good-bye with his nose–maybe much too personal for her but definitely not for him–before following his friend-alpha-whatever. “I believe we’re about to meet someone you might like.” As if Leon hadn’t liked everyone he’d met thus far, and that was just a continuation of his personality as outlined in Andrew’s journal. 

Wesker tracks through a winding hallway, leading them both to a heavy metal door. He pulls his sunglasses off, using the eye scanner instead of a keycard to gain access. The door beeps, the red light above it turning green and he pushes the door open with ease. “On you go.” He ushers Leon into the room before him, and Leon looks around; it was similar to the main room, except smaller and full of different equipment, one more meant for surgery rather than the creation of viruses. 

Leon gives the older blonde a glance and gets a nod in confirmation; he was free to explore while Wesker looked for this woman. Leon doesn’t hesitate. The first person he saw was his first victim, and he pops up next to him, making him jump. “Jesus christ! What are you doing here? How are you out of your cell?” The man grabs onto the nearest scalpel, receiving a bark in reply–a hello. He happily points over to Wesker, and that gives the man a little bit more confidence in his own safety. “Fuck. Don’t sneak up on me like that. I didn’t even hear him come in.” The last part is muttered under his breath. “As long as he hasn’t come to yell at me , I don’t care.” He turns back to his dissection of a rat.

Wagging his tail, Leon watches him work despite the man’s obvious discomfort over being so close to a B.O.W. It was hard enough to not get attached to the nicer ones, the ones whose eyes tug at your heartstrings. Leon definitely qualified, and he was arguably worse because he was running loose with his new master. 

“...So how come you’re so special?” The man asks as he removes the mouse’s liver, “why are you allowed out and about?” Leon shrugs, not thinking too terribly hard about it. This had been a great walk so far, and if he were good Wesker would probably take him on another one! To different places, even though this one was fine, too. At least it was interesting, though the weird mix of blood and cleaning chemicals made his nose burn. 

Leon was a good listener, so he listens as the man goes into a spiel about the T-virus and the way it would reanimate whatever it was injected into, even if it had been dead a long time. He makes sure not to touch the rat with black blood oozing out of it, sensing the danger–or maybe it was the fact that the man was wearing really thick gloves that gave it away… 

“I’m looking for Rebecca.” Wesker says gruffly, tapping his thigh with his fingers. He was getting impatient, and it was getting late. Although, while he’s out here it might be beneficial to bring Leon to Rena Santiago directly… He speaks loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, and only one woman shrinks down into herself, trying to make herself unseen. “You. Come here.” 

She squirms but sets her scalpel down, shaking lightly as she’s faced with the monster that had brought down their entire operation within hours. “Y-yes, sir?” She croaks, her short red hair obscuring her eyes, but Wesker knew they’d be full of fear. 

“There is no way a B.O.W. can live without human intervention in some way. You felt guilty, didn’t you? Were you the one caring for him?” He motions behind him, assuming Leon was still hanging around the entryway since he hadn’t followed Wesker deeper in. Rebecca leans over to look, a shaky breath escaping her lips.

“Y-you took him? Why? He’s useless to you!” She raises her voice and Wesker’s lip curls in disdain. He didn’t appreciate the tone she was using. He stuffs down his anger. 

“He’s useless to me as of now . I fully intend to make him useful. Seeing as his original handler is dead, you’re the only link I have to examining his behavior better. Did he change after his old handler died?” Wesker questions, and it’s obvious Rebecca doesn’t want to answer his questions.

“You’re just going to hurt him,” she replies coldly, “I w-won’t have any part of it. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“He’s a spy.” Wesker snaps back, “he was a threat to your company’s privacy. Why are you defending him?” 

“He’s–He’s just…” Rebecca swallows, “I tried. I tried, I really did, okay? It’s not fair, but it’s the way things are now. He’s not a spy. He’s not even good at fighting. Andrew did throw him in with one of our other B.O.W.s once and he lost in seconds. There is no bite. You won’t find anything worth using. Y-You might as well just kill him.” 

Wesker had sort of believed her up until the last part, eyes flashing behind the safety of his sunglasses. She was trying to trick him into killing Leon so he couldn’t be used. She’s trying to protect him, give him a better ending.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re being untruthful with me.” Tendrils burst from his wrist and wrap around her throat, cutting off her air. He squeezes tight, being kind enough not to snap her neck right then and there. “I’ll give you a chance to think about lying to me. So you take a long time, and when I come back, you had better have the right answer for me. Understood?” 

She nods weakly at him, clawing at the Uroboros as her lips begin to turn blue. He holds her for a little while longer before dropping her, her legs immediately giving out from under her. None of the other scientists move to help her. Wesker turns away, heading back to the entrance. “Leon. Come along, now.” 

The hybrid perks up as Wesker calls for him, giving the man a nudge good-bye, too. The man grimaces, resisting the urge to shove Leon away as he gets way too close. He still didn’t like the B.O.W., he just made a good sounding board because he couldn’t talk back. Leon trots over to Wesker’s side, and Wesker eyes him. 

“How come you never do that to me?” Leon tilts his head to the side with a smile, leaning forward to nudge the man’s raised hand. “...Fine. Good enough, I suppose.” Leon barks happily, perhaps a bit stupidly, as Wesker opens the door for him, releasing them both from the normally locked room. 

His employees weren’t locked inside, obviously. They had their own rooms and keycards. It was just safer for everything to be locked to prevent rats like Leon used to be from getting in and running freely about the place. 

As much as Wesker loathed to admit it, he was growing attached to Leon. The dogboy went everywhere with him, and not just because Wesker wanted to keep an eye on him or test him. Sure, it got annoying sometimes–especially when Leon sat outside the bathroom door while he showered or used the toilet–but having someone to stave off the constant, crushing silence and the rare tugs for affection from his brain helped immensely. 

Leon kept him sane, and it was horrible to think about the way Wesker now couldn’t imagine life without the happy-go-lucky dogboy. “Alright, Leon.” Wesker says as they step into one of the quiet, clean medical rooms. Rena Santiago had supplied him with an experimental dose of a virus that would effectively undo the damage done to Leon–if it worked, that is. There was a slight chance it would have a bad side effect, and Wesker would be there if it did. “I had one of my employees create something that will help you. I know you’re not a fan of needles, so I want you to keep your eyes on me and not your arm, understand?” 

Eyes on me. Leon understood that, and needle. He whimpers, but he sets his eyes on Wesker’s calm, focused expression instead of the way he rubs an alcohol swab on the spot he was going to use. “Good job.” Wesker offers him praise, choosing to continue to talk because he knew that it would better calm the poor creature. “Once we’re done here, I’ll give you a treat . More ice cream .” 

Wesker spoke to him as if he were also a human, and Leon was getting better at understanding full sentences because of it. His old Alpha used sharp commands and oftentimes wouldn’t speak to him outside of them, ignoring Leon if he tried to help or perform tricks when he wasn’t ordered to. “Don’t tense up. You’ll be sore if you do.”

Even though Wesker warned him, Leon found himself yelping and tensing anyway, his arm only held in place by a firm hand around his elbow. The liquid is cold going in, but it doesn’t last long, warmed by his body. “All done. See? That wasn’t so hard.” Gloved fingers ruffle Leon’s hair and he throws himself into Wesker’s arms as soon as he’s allowed, burying his face in the man’s arm. 

He trusted Wesker, but it still hurt. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt later, on the inside rather than the surface of his skin. 

Ice cream has a tendency to make everything feel survivable. Or maybe it’s the fact that Wesker allowed Leon in his lap for once. It could be that, too. Even as Leon’s head begins to hurt, he’s not too worried. Wesker said it would be okay, so Leon was sure it would be. 

After finishing off his lovely waffle cone, Leon tries to sleep off the discomfort. Wesker takes the evening to monitor Leon instead of doing paperwork, quietly running his fingers through the man’s fluffy locks of hair. Three hours after injection, Leon begins to show physical signs of discomfort, eyes beginning to water. Half an hour later, he wakes, howling. 

Wesker convinces him to take another shot to ease the pain and lower inflammation. It wasn’t a hard task, either, considering Leon was clinging to him as if he were the only one who could help–and in that moment, he was. “Yeah, that feels better I’m sure.” Wesker soothes, chest loosening up only after Leon’s cries fade to soft whimpers. “Let’s focus on something else, yeah?” Leon nods weakly, resting his head in the crook of Wesker’s arm. He feels so hot compared to Wesker, his clothes nice and cool, smooth against his skin. 

They watch ‘dog T.V.’ until Leon calms down, the pain fading completely. Wesker is exhausted, tired of watching squirrels, but he found Leon was better distracted by squirrels and similar woodland creatures than actual shows, which he quickly lost interest in. Probably on account of not being able to understand them. 

Leon tilts his head up to stare at Wesker, who was effectively nodding off with his head rested on the arm of the couch. He gives a glance at the T.V., pupils dilated heavily, a look of faint confusion on his face. Back to Wesker, friend, alpha, whatever– “Wuh…wuhf.” No, no, that’s–that’s not right. “Wuhf.” Wesker blinks open his eyes, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“Huh? What is it, Leon?” Leon was vocal at the best of times, but he sounded a bit distressed now. Leon lets out a soft growl, smacking his forehead against Wesker’s broad chest. Light, but it does get the point across. He’s upset. 

“Wuhf. Wuh…wuh…Weh…” Closer. Closer, ever closer–Wesker’s breath catches in his throat, suddenly much less tired. “Wehshker.” Excitement. Leon yelps as Wesker pulls him into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling his nose between the man’s ears.

“It worked. It fucking worked. Good boy, good boy. That was really clear. I’m proud of you.” It was important to reward progress, especially such substantial ones. Every word Leon said would be treated to encourage him to speak more, although Leon was already very pleased with the resulting affection. He laughs–not just a barking chuff. 

Wesker hadn’t yet figured out how much he wanted to ‘fix’ Leon, but if a few more doses gave him back the intelligence he knew was locked up in the dogboy’s brain, he’d absolutely take that risk. Leon could be such a powerful ally, in addition to being a good companion. 

Wesker just hoped he could find a good balance between ‘companion’ and ‘ally’ and that continuing to drag him back into his humanity wouldn’t undo all the hard work he had put in bonding with him. The scientist really didn’t know what he’d do without his cuddle buddy now. 

Leon had mostly free reign of the facility with the express rule that he did not touch anything in the labs, and Leon made sure not to. Wesker had chased him out of his office so he could concentrate, leaving Leon completely alone with his thoughts. 

He felt weird after Wesker had given him that shot. It was like his mind was really really clear all of the sudden, as if he had no idea he was wading through fog until he wasn’t anymore. Leon could understand exactly what Wesker was saying, not just bits and pieces, and that was… nice. He’d often stare at Wesker just to urge the man into speaking, because it attracted his attention. ‘ What is it, Leon?’ ‘Staring again, are you?’ 

The elevator opens up to the B2 floor and Leon steps inside, tail waving from side to side. He knew almost every scientist by now, though a lot of them changed floors depending on where they were needed. 

“Leon!” Someone calls his name, and his ears perk up at the noise. His eyes track across the room, settling on Marnie. She had been the first person he’d interacted with when Wesker had taken him to visit the labs, he only learned her name later. It had taken a few times–but Leon’s mind was clearer now. Her name came to the forefront of his mind instantly. Leon gives an excited yip, wandering between metal tables to meet her in the corner of the room. “It’s been a while. I was a bit worried about you.” She pats him on the head. “How’s it going?”

Leon decides that it would be a good idea to practice his speaking now, with someone who wasn’t Wesker. It was a bit daunting, and Leon’s face twists into a near grimace as he tries to work up the courage to even try . “Oh, that’s a face. No good, huh?” 

“Guh…Goohd.” Leon replies, and Marnie freezes, nearly dropping the vial she had in her other hand.

“Sweetie, when’d you learn that trick?” She asks, “that was pretty good. Is that all you can say?”

“Noh,” Leon shakes his head. He was good with ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ though the words felt a bit off on his tongue. All of them did, really. “Prah…Phracticing.” 

“Ah, I see.” Marnie gives him one of those kind smiles she has, the one that reminds him of the Kind Woman–who avoids him whenever she sees him now, running away before he can approach–“Well I think you’re doing great. Wanna watch me work for a bit?” 

“Yehs!” Leon nods enthusiastically. He always liked watching her. It was like magic because with just a few drops of a clear liquid she could turn a blue liquid bright red! She laughs, motioning for him to sit beside her. He does, taking up the metal stool. He keeps his hands in his lap–obeying the lab rules. No touching! 

“...And this will strengthen the virus so it’s sure to infect.” Marnie carefully measures out the liquid, dropping it into a flask of light blue liquid. “Mixing viruses together is dangerous, but extremely effective when done properly.” Her watch beeps and she glances down at the time. “Ah. My shift’s up. I’m sorry, Leon. I have to go. No overtime for us!” She quickly cleans up and Leon tells her good-bye, and though it’s messy and slow, she waits for him to spit it out. 

He gets another rub to the ears as a reward. 

Leon moves onto someone else once she leaves, unabashedly peeking over their hunched shoulders to see what they were up to. “I’m a bit busy, Leon. I need to focus. Go find someone else to play with.” They tell him, and his ears droop with disappointment, but he listens anyway.

“Oh-Ohkay. Bye.” He says, drifting off to the next closest person.

“Bye Leo –Huh?? ” 

Word spreads pretty fast amongst the labs that their resident B.O.P. had learned to speak. It only takes a text from someone who’s not supposed to have their phone, after all, or a quickly typed out email with a ton of typos to someone on another floor. 

“Hey, Leon. Serenity down in B3 wants to see you.” Someone tells him, “she says she has something to show you.” 

Leon’s ears prick. He liked being wanted! He says ‘bye’ and waves to the scientists in B2, heading over to the elevator to go down to B3. It dings as it opens, and he mentally prepares himself for the rush in his head as it drops. 

He will never get used to that sensation. 

The second the doors open he’s grabbed by the wrist by a very excited brunette. “Leon! You came so quick,” she says excitedly. “Is it true you talk now?” He tilts his head at her with a smile. 

“Heh…hello.” he greets, “Suh…surprise fohr me?” Wesker told him not to worry about proper grammar and sentence structure at first, to just focus on actually getting the words to come out of his mouth. Generally he did well enough that people understood what he was saying anyway.

“Oh my god. And yes! Come on. I’ve been waiting to show you this.” She leads him to a rat in a cage. “I taught it tricks!” He’s a little bit incredulous but watches as she taps the ground in front of the rat once, and it sits down. Two taps and it lays down. Leon’s pretty impressed, to be fair. He didn’t know rats could learn tricks. 

“Cuh…cuhl.” He tells her, voice a bit higher pitched than usual. She laughs, patting him on the shoulder.

“ You’re so cool. I didn’t know you could speak. That’s a much cooler surprise than a rat that can sit.” She shuts the cage back up so her test subject can’t escape, guiding him back over to the main portion of the lab. “If you ever need someone to practice with, I was a speech therapist for a school when I was younger.” Leon didn’t know what that was, but he nods anyway, thankful for the offer. 

Eventually, Leon gets bored of hanging around the labs and heads back upstairs, wandering until he reaches Wesker’s apartment. He swipes his keycard and steps inside, listening for the telltale click behind him. “Weh…Wehsker?” He calls out, coughing after. Wesker yells back, still in his office. 

Leon pokes his head in, ears forced forward. “Breahk now?” Wesker shakes his head in reply, looking the slightest bit regretful. Leon could see it in the way his lips twitched down, though he couldn’t see the deep red of his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, Leon. I’m the one fielding an important sale and I need to be available. I’m not as busy now, though. You can sit with me, if you’d like. Did you enjoy your visit to the laboratories?”

“Yeh…yehs.” Leon replies as he flops down into the chair next to Wesker’s– his chair–and rests his head on the desk, one arm curled up around it. “Prahcticed.” 

“Very good. Rena will be done with the second dose of the medicine I gave you. It should help.” Wesker was explaining it in simple terms for Leon; he wouldn’t understand the intricacies of a virus, and Wesker frankly was too tired to explain it. Leon nods, a small frown on his face.

“Hurts.” 

“Yeah, it does. But it’s making you better. You couldn’t talk before, and now you can. Isn’t that worth a little pain?” Wesker asks, glancing over at the dogboy. Leon thinks about it quietly for a while, lips pressed into a fine line. 

“...Yeah.” He finally says, “Like… Like tahlking.” It was easier for people to understand him! Not only that, but when he asked for things, Wesker gave them to him willingly! Even if it was ice cream for dinner and pizza for breakfast. Wesker chuckles, lips quirking into a smile.

“I’d hope so, Leon.”

The second dose helps immensely. Wesker finds Leon staring at him even more, now, and he doesn’t even pretend he’s not. Blue eyes track his every movement, face twisted into an expression not unlike shock . Wesker really couldn’t place why, but he doesn’t plan on asking. 

He figures it’s better to let Leon figure things out by himself in his own mind. Wesker can’t help him sort that out; it was something Leon had to do by himself. 

Whether it’s practice or truly the virus Rena made, Leon’s speech improves. Wesker finds himself enjoying hearing the man talk, almost as much as Leon liked hearing him talk. Wesker wasn’t generally much of a monologuer, but he found himself doing so, commentating what he was doing at work just so Leon’s ears would prick, eyes betraying just how intently he was listening. Down in the labs or doing paperwork, Leon liked hearing about it all. 

Wesker liked Leon’s rambling, too. Most of it was nonsense about his friendships with the scientists in the laboratories—Wesker knew a lot more about them than he ever intended to know—but some of it was ‘dog’ related. ‘ I’d really like to chase a squirrel some day. I’ve not seen one in real life.’ ‘I promise you, you have seen one. You just don’t remember.’ ‘Do you think I chased it?’ ‘Probably not, Leon.’ 

Wesker did make a decision to take Leon outside though. It wasn’t as if they were close enough to civilization to be a problem, they weren’t going to be seen. 

“Are you sure?” Leon asks as Wesker buttons up his jacket, tail betraying just how excited he was.

“Of course I’m sure. You can’t go outside without me, but being with me is perfectly fine.” That was less about Leon being seen and more about him getting found by a wild animal that he can’t fight. Wesker hadn’t even attempted to throw Leon against one of his other B.O.W.s, and at this point, he doesn’t think he has the heart to. 

Leon was too important to risk. Not a bite from a zombie, not to have his brains bashed in by a Tyrant. All of Wesker’s monsters were much too strong for a dogboy who’s ‘aggression’ amounted to a growl and a smack of his hand. Maybe that was just with Albert, though. 

“You’re bringing your magnum?” Leon questions, eyeing the man’s hip. Though his holster was hidden behind his long leather trench coat, he could still smell the gunpowder inside the bullets. 

“Bears live in this area. It’s just to be safe.” Wesker replies, ushering Leon out the front door. “Neither of us need to be fighting grizzlies in close range.”

“I want to fight a grizzly bear, though!” 

“They’re much bigger than you. They’d eat you in one bite.” Wesker teases, and Leon’s tail lashes.

“They absolutely would not! I’d get ‘em real good!” 

Leon enjoyed the snow. Wesker sits on the concrete overhang leading out of the base as his hybrid romps through the snow, rediscovering it. Wesker keeps careful watch of the man’s nose, but Leon’s higher body temperature leaves him perfectly fine in the frigid weather. 

Though Leon had seemingly lost his memories, traces of it still remained. He knew how to make snow angels (basic, practically instinctual) and snowmen, which Leon claimed was Wesker even though it had no face. He made a second smaller one with two balls on top; himself. 

He couldn’t figure out the tail, unfortunately. 

“Can I use your gun?” Leon asks as he clambers up onto the overhang, grip slipping slightly on the icy concrete until he digs in his claws. 

“Why?” Wesker asks, though he’s already unholstering it. “Do you know the rules for using firearms?” 

Leon pauses, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought. “I… huh. My old handler never taught me how, but I—I remember them. No pointing the barrel at anyone unless you have intent to kill. Safety is always on unless you’re firing.” Wesker blinks, grateful his shock is hidden behind his glasses. 

“Alright. Aim for that tree over there. The dying one.” Wesker concedes, trusting that Leon wouldn’t turn the gun on him the moment he got the chance. He hands the magnum over to Leon, placing the grip flat in his hand. 

“Yes!” Leon’s tail whips from side to side, ecstatic as he settles the gun in both hands, his placement perfect. Wesker watches intently as he cocks back the hammer and pulls the slide, finger lightly on the trigger as he lines up the shot— BANG! The loud noise scares off a few nearby birds and they both can see dead bark fly off the tree. It wasn’t terribly far away, only 150 yards, but definitely impressive for someone who hadn’t held or thought about a gun in years. 

“I hit it!” Leon laughs, a few barks leaving his lips, so excited he can’t help himself. “Gimme something else to shoot!” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now. We have a shooting range inside,” Wesker reaches over to ruffle the hybrid’s ears, amused. “We don’t have to be in the cold to practice your aim.” 

“But I like it out here.” Leon admits, “The fresh air is nice. And I like the sun. It’s warm.” Sure, his words were basic, but Wesker saw into it. I don’t want to go back inside, because if I do, I might never come back out. 

“Hmmm. Fine. We can stay out here a while longer. We have to go in when it starts to get dark, though. It gets into the negatives up here and I don’t want you getting frostbite.” The scientist concedes, “Aim for that. It’s a little further away, so don’t feel bad if you miss it.” Leon did start out aiming for the target Wesker gave him, but he switches at the last second, firing off right above a bird as it takes off, hitting it front and center.

“Wow! I’m gonna eat it!” Leon puts the safety back on and  leaves the gun behind before Wesker can stop him, hauling off after the bird he caught.

“You can’t eat it! It’s full of lead!” Wesker yells out to him, but Leon’s tail disappears behind some shrubbery. It takes him a bit to return, covered in twigs and burrs. 

“I got it! I got it, Wesker!” He yaps, holding up his prize. Wesker truly was impressed, although he let out a low sigh. The bird was nearly torn in two by the bullet. 

“So you did. It’s difficult to hit a moving target. You did good.” The scientist was pleased to see that Leon had retained his marksmanship despite the lapse in time and memory. He must have been a kick ass USSTRATCOM agent. A smile drifts across Wesker’s lips. Well now he’s mine. 

All Wesker’s. Leon had other friends, sure, but it was always Wesker he returned to, who he adored . Wesker helps Leon back onto the concrete overhang, letting the hybrid set aside his disgusting prize before pulling him into a tight hug. Leon squeaks, struggling to free his arms so he can return it, nuzzling his face into Wesker’s neck. 

“I did real good?” 

“Absolutely, Leon. I’m very proud of you.” Wesker rumbles in Leon’s ear, making his tail shake. He loved it when Wesker was proud of him. That fuzzy feeling he got when looking at the man was always ignited tenfold, turning into a raging fire that burnt him from the tip of his tail to the tops of his ears. 

“A-ah… Thank you!” 

Leon lazily stretches himself out across the grass, just out of sight of the base’s cameras. After he’d proved himself with a gun—more than once, actually—Wesker had finally allowed him outside on his own. But only in spring and summer and only in the middle of the day when all the wildlife was holed up to get away from the heat. 

The mountains stayed relatively cool in spring, though, and Leon found himself happily basking in the sun’s warm glow. It’s easy to fall asleep in such perfect conditions, and Leon almost does. 

A strange scent fills his nose, drifting on the wind. It grows closer and he opens his eyes, quietly shifting locations to be more hidden. This wasn’t the scent of an animal, but of man, and a man who smells of sulfur. It doesn’t take long before Leon’s heightened sense of hearing picks up on the quiet crunch of footsteps as they approach. 

Out of the foliage comes a man in a bulletproof vest, cheeks covered in stubble. He looks tired. He doesn’t have his gun in his hand, but Leon can see it on his hip. The man passes by and Leon follows, almost silent. It isn’t until the man stops at the edge of the forest, just out of sight of the cameras that Leon begins to suspect there’s something a bit odd here. Surely he’s not looking for the guards’ shift change? That doesn’t happen for another two hours, and they never leave their stations until they’re relieved. 

He pricks his ears as the man sucks in a deep breath. “Where are you, Leon?” he whispers, thumping the tree he was hiding behind with his fist. 

How does he know my name? Leon wonders, and he almost emerges from his hiding spot, but he doesn’t. He sits, he watches, and he waits. 

The man stays until the sun begins to set.

He knows Leon’s rules. 

“Maybe tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Stay safe, Leon.” 

That’s when Leon takes the chance. He purposefully snaps a twig, alerting the man to his presence. “How do you know my name?” Leon questions, staying hidden in his spot behind a tree, just like the stranger was.

The man had instinctively gone for his gun, but his fingers relaxed as he recognized the voice. “Leon! You’re here.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about you. You—you don’t remember me? Chris Redfield?” 

“No,” Leon replies, poking his head out from behind his tree, “Are you one of Wesker’s friends?” He tilts his head to the side, and Chris’s lips go flat, eyes flashing. Leon can smell his anger, but Chris soothes it quickly.

“Yeah, I am. But you can’t tell him I was here, okay? I have to be a secret.” Chris tells him, as if sensing Leon told Wesker everything (true). 

“Mmm… how? How are you friends?” Leon had never heard Wesker talk about him before. Not that Wesker talked about having any friends… Except Leon, of course. Leon was his best friend.

“We used to work together.” Chris replies, wistfulness entering his voice. “We were thick as thieves. He always had my back, and I had his. We made a great team.” 

Leon pauses. He sounds genuine enough, but… “So why aren’t you now?” 

“Call it—differences of opinion, Leon. He wanted something and I didn’t, and we fought over it.” That was an understatement, but Leon seemed pretty deep into this Stockholm syndrome thing he had going on. 

“Oh. I have to go.” Leon says, looking up at the sky. “I need to be back in before dark. Wesker gets worried about me.” He moves to leave, but Chris calls out to him before he can.

“What happened to you, Leon? Why do you have—a dog’s ears and tail?” The question had been eating at Chris ever since he saw Leon that day in the snow. The only reason Chris hadn’t moved in yet was because of the risk to Leon. 

“Huh? I’ve always had these.” Leon’s ears twitch. “You’re weird. See you.” And then he’s gone, leaving Chris feeling slightly sick. That couldn’t have been Wesker’s doing. It was too… tame. Too basic. Wesker would’ve turned him into a muscular beast with fangs like a walrus and claws like a wolverine. No, someone else did that to him.  

Why Wesker was keeping him, Chris had no idea. He was just glad Leon seemed healthy and confident. Unafraid of strangers, as Chris expected he would be. No, Wesker hadn’t poisoned Leon to the outside world. 

Chris just had to hope and pray Leon wouldn’t tell Wesker about him… 

“You work too much,” Leon complains as Wesker shifts to get up at 6AM. “Why don’t you ever sleep in?”

“Big talk coming from the guy who woke me up at 4:30 for three weeks in a row.” Wesker says wryly as he pulls on his work shirt and clips his harness on. “Go back to bed, Leon. I’ll be in my office when you wake up.”

Leon grumbles, settling back into the bed. He listens to Wesker shuffle around in the dark, but eventually clambers out of bed with a yawn. “What happened to you being tired?” Wesker asks as he moves toward the door, and Leon grumbles. 

“I want to be with you more.” He whines, and Wesker feels a stab in his heart. 

Leon ends up curled in Wesker’s lap, snoozing away with his head pressed into the man’s neck. Was it a little inconvenient, and did Leon’s breath make him feel a bit hot under the collar? Yeah, to both things. Wesker ignores them in favor of his work, going slow for once so Leon can get a few more hours of sleep before they both end up down in the labs, because Leon is a clingy little burr who doesn’t let go no matter how hard Wesker tries to convince him he should.

At around 8AM Leon wakes up, and Wesker makes him get dressed. 

“I won’t leave without you. Just move your tail.” Wesker pushes him towards the closet, and Leon frowns, but he pulls on some jeans anyway, and the first shirt he finds—one of Wesker’s. It’s big on him, but Wesker quite likes the look of the man in his clothes. 

Leon is always cautious in the labs. He sits nearby as Wesker carefully doses out some oddly colored liquids, squinting his crimson eyes. Because they were alone in Wesker’s personal laboratory room, he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. They made it difficult to see, anyhow. 

Leon knows to stay quiet, however hard it is. When Wesker is in the zone, he needed complete and total concentration—

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! 

On the metal door outside. Leon nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden break in silence, and Wesker growls furiously. “I’m going to kill somebody, Leon.” He snarls, and Leon thinks he might actually mean it. 

Wesker rips open the door after putting on his sunglasses, a scowl on his face. “What is it now? I’m busy. ” 

“Chr-Chris Redfield was caught on the security cameras, sir.” The poor messenger squeaks, cowering. Leon’s ears prick. Was Wesker still mad at his friend? 

“Redf—Get out of my sight. Strengthen security. Make sure no one gets in or out, not even a fucking mouse.” Wesker orders before slamming the door in the guard’s face. “Christ. He always makes things so difficult.” 

“Who’s Chris Redfield?” Leon yips, pretending not to know. 

“A member of the BSAA, and a royal pain in my ass.” Wesker grunts as he tries to refocus on his work, setting his sunglasses on the table beside him.

“Are you friends?”

“No, Leon. You’re the only one I’d even consider close to a friend.” 

So he was lied to, because Wesker would never lie to him. A happy growl rumbles in Leon’s throat at those words, cheeks flushing. He was Wesker’s only friend. Chris Redfield was a liar. Leon still doesn’t say anything, because Wesker might restrict his outside time if he does. 

“That makes me so happy.” Leon tells him, “I like you. You make me feel warm.” Wesker freezes, visibly swallowing hard. He breathes in deep and exhales slowly before replying, but Leon knows he was just caught off guard. 

“Thank… Thank you for letting me know, Leon. You’re a good boy. And—stay inside today, alright? Until we confirm that Chris Redfield is no longer in the area.”

“Okay.” Leon didn’t want to see him anyway! He might just bite him if he does. 

Wesker had a guest bedroom, but by the time Leon was aware of its use they had both gotten used to Leon being in Wesker’s. Leon liked it there; it smelled like him. His pillows, his sheets… Leon liked the idea of being doused in it so he carried it with him. Only those with heightened senses would be able to tell, but the thought was still comforting.

The hybrid is splayed out in Wesker’s bed, snoring softly. He had always taken midday naps, but normally they were in Wesker’s lap or otherwise at his side. With Wesker gone on a mission too dangerous to bring Leon, Leon was forced to take his naps in an actual bed. Constant sleep also helped him forget the crushing sense of anxiety he had about Wesker being gone for more than a few hours. Three days, it was just three days. 

The window opens with a low shriek, making Leon’s ears twitch. He thinks he imagines it at first in his haze of sleep, but in the moments where he manages to force his eyes to open, head unsteadily oriented at the window, he could see a massive form lumbering through it. A low growl leaves his lips, crescendoing into a snarl as the person invades his safe space. 

“Leon!” The voice is familiar, though Leon has to take a moment to place it. He blinks away sleep and sits up, ears pinned to the back of his head to show his unhappiness.

“What are you doing breaking into Wesker’s bedroom?!” Leon snarls, “you’re not supposed to be here! Wesker doesn’t want you here.” Obviously, it was Leon’s duty as best friend and companion to kick Chris the hell out. 

“Hey—hey! I just wanted to talk to you. You haven’t been coming out.” Chris tries to deescalate the situation, and Leon rolls his eyes. 

“That’s ‘cause someone saw you and now I’m not allowed out! Thanks for that, by the way,” Leon replies, voice dripping sarcasm. “It’s not like I enjoyed being out there or anything.” 

“I… I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t know I’d been spotted. Anyway, I—I have so many questions. You just disappeared on us. I looked into what USSTRATCOM was doing at the time, but there’s very little to go off of.” Chris approaches slowly, but he doesn’t get too close. Just close enough to see Leon better. Leon huffs, shrugging his shoulders.

“I dunno what you’re talking about. I hear Wesker mention that place sometimes, but I’ve always been with my old handler. Well… him and Wesker. I like Wesker better.” His tail beats happily beneath the sheets, unable to be controlled despite Leon’s best efforts. 

“You don’t remember anything at all?”

“No, I suppose not.” Leon replies, “but I’m fine here. I don’t need USSTRATCOM or… whatever.” He’s flippant about it, and Chris’ heart breaks for him. He had no idea how bad things were without him, and he probably wouldn’t care even if he did. 

“Albert Wesker is a dangerous man. A bioterrorist, Leon. He’s a bad guy. You used to fight against those.” He’s treading a dangerous line by doing this, and he knows it. Leon growls in reply, baring his teeth in Chris’ direction.

“You’re a liar. You lied to me about being friends with Wesker, and you’re lying about this too. I’ve entertained you enough. Get out.” He lunges forward and Chris stumbles backward to avoid the nips at his ankles. 

“Hey—Leon, please,” He’s careful not to kick the man as he’s hounded backward toward the open window, giving a glance back. “It was true. We just aren’t friends anymore because he made a lot of bad decisions. Wesker is stubborn and he can never admit he’s wrong—”

“Out!” The barking snarl shakes the window pane and Chris frowns, turning around to crawl out the way he came. 

“Try to remember, Leon. We all miss you. Claire misses you the most. She was so worried when you disappeared.” Leon growls, enough to scare off his unwanted visitor. Now he was much too awake to go back to bed… Down to the labs it was to bother some poor scientists. 

Leon was all too glad when Wesker returned. The man was a bit dirty, but Leon didn’t mind. Blood and sweat were nothing. He clings to him, desperate never to let the man disappear again. 

“I missed you,” Leon whines, “so much I thought I’d die.” Wesker chuckles, pulling Leon’s legs up underneath him, electing to hold him so he can actually move. It wasn’t as if Leon was difficult to carry. 

“I’m back now. Next time you can come with me, okay? We can test out your marksmanship in the field.” Wesker promises, “This was just too far away. I didn’t want to risk something happening to you.” He strokes the back of Leon’s neck with his other hand, making the man growl, pleased. He rests his head on Wesker’s shoulder, tail wagging wildly back and forth, beating against Wesker’s legs. 

“I’ll do a really good job,” Leon promises, “so you’ll always take me with you. I can handle it.” He hadn’t been slacking on his practice, and he was only getting better. Moving targets were no issue; farther ones weren’t either. Leon could always gauge where the bullet would land perfectly. 

“I’m sure you can.” Wesker replies, moving towards his bedroom, “I need a shower, so I’m gonna drop you off, okay?” 

“No! Don’t leave.” Leon refuses, digging his claws into Wesker’s back until the man concedes.

And that was how Wesker ended up in the shower with his clingy little burr. He leans down so Leon can scrub his hair with shampoo, letting all the dirt and grime accumulated over the past few days fall out. “You had a twig!” Leon yaps, “how’d you not feel that?” 

“No idea.” Wesker rumbles, shutting his eyes. He can pretend it’s to keep the soap out, but it felt good to have fingers running through his hair, especially from someone he actually had trust in. Wesker was confident Leon wouldn’t betray him, not ever. It wouldn’t be like S.T.A.R.S, where he betrayed them and the survivors turned their backs on him because of it. 

Chris and Jill just didn’t understand! He wouldn’t have killed them. No, he loved the Alpha team. It killed him inside to have to do that to his own people. 

It’s just easier to play the bad guy. 

Suds flow down around Wesker’s face as Leon uses the showerhead to wash all the soap from his hair. It slides down his slick body, the warm water soothing on his aching muscles. “Okay. Conditioner now.” Leon yips, and Wesker lets him work. He had felt off over the days he was gone; it’s hard to go from sleeping next to someone every night to roughing it on some wooden crates or on a concrete floor all alone. 

Once his hair is finished, Wesker suds up Leon’s. He’s careful with the hybrid’s ears, even though he knows they lead nowhere. He could imagine they still get infections if left wet for too long. Leon’s wagging tail splits the water and Wesker is grateful his ‘fur’ isn’t true fur so he doesn’t smell like a wet dog every time he gets out of the shower. The scientist would’ve lost his mind if he had to deal with that smell all the time. 

“Alright. All done.” Wesker finally lets Leon’s head go after he washes the conditioner from his hair, which is slicked to his head and makes him look a lot smaller and quite a bit more silly. 

“Thanks.” Leon blinks at him, eyes full of adoration. Wesker’s heart stutters in his chest. 

Fuck.

He really was falling for this… guy, and he hated himself for it. The closest he’d ever gotten to a relationship was Chris , and everyone knew how that turned out. 

“Of course, Leon. I’m happy to help.” Wesker forces out, averting his gaze. At least he can blame his blush on the steam from the hot water. 

After the two of them finished washing up, Leon made them sandwiches for lunch. Basic, but he was doing his best to be more independent. Less reliant on Wesker, so Wesker could do more important things. “BLTs coming right up,” he announces, placing one plate in front of Wesker, and the other (with two sandwiches) in front of the place where he was going to sit, next to him, of course. 

“Looks good.” Wesker comments, tummy rumbling. Shit, he was starving. He hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The toasted bread crunches between his teeth, and the lettuce is nice and fresh, the bacon crisp. “mmm.” 

Leon bolsters himself, warmth welling in his chest. He was so glad Wesker liked it. It was difficult to make bacon without burning yourself, and Leon was still clumsy with his hands at the best of times. He bites into his own, eating much quicker than Wesker even though he had been eating like normal. He just had a massive appetite and a bottomless pit for a belly. Leon sticks around even as he finishes his food to tell Wesker about all the stuff that happened while he was gone—minus Chris’ breaking and entering, Wesker was way too overprotective and Leon chased him off just fine—that he hums in response to. 

There wasn’t much, in truth, but it’s enough to pass the time and let Wesker eat without Leon seeming impatient. 

When they’re both done, they do the dishes and then head to bed. Wesker sighs in relief as Leon settles in his proper place tucked between the scientist’s arms, nose pressed to his chest. “I missed you so much.” Leon mumbles, closing his eyes. He could already tell he’d have no issues falling asleep tonight.

“I missed you too, dear heart.” Wesker murmurs, pressing a kiss to the blonde’s head. Impulsive, yes. Does he regret it immediately after? Yeah, pretty much. Leon’s ears twitch up at the action and his tail beats hard, ecstatic over all of it. 

“I like you, so so much,” Leon admits, “More than anyone else in the entire world.” Wesker rubs the hybrid’s back, words choked in his throat. He wishes he could say the same aloud, but he was a massive coward. 

It takes him a few moments to work up the courage— “I like you too. You’re my good boy. Now c’mon. Let me sleep, Lee.” Leon hums a bit but goes quiet after that, breathing evening out.

Wesker is left awake, wondering if Leon even understood what he was saying. Leon was definitely more in tune with his sentience now, showing more human traits than dog, though he had his moments. The problem was—Leon had been trained to perform sexual acts on command. Was it even right for Wesker to indulge in these feelings? 

What if Leon is just saying these things because he thinks he needs to? 

It made Wesker’s head hurt. Feelings aren’t scientific. They aren’t cut and dry, black and white.

Wesker hates feelings.

He wants to hate Leon for making him second guess himself, but he doesn’t. He just can’t. 

Wesker’s sleep is fitful that night, and he blames it on the mission still being fresh in his mind.

“Did you like your old handler?” Wesker asks Leon as they sit side by side in his office, scrolling through a bunch of pointless emails to find the one he needed to reply to ASAP.  

“no,” Leon growls softly. “He was not kind. He just wanted me to do things for him. I was a party trick, not a living thing.” Well, it makes sense. Wesker nods. 

“Let’s go outside later. It’s been a while.” He changes the subject quickly, hating himself for being… What, insecure? uncertain? Over a dead man? Wesker was losing his grip on reality, apparently. 

“Yes please . I’ve been going crazy cooped up inside. I know every nook and cranny of this place.” Leon sighs, “I’ve seen more dust bunnies than I care to count.” 

“Well you might see real bunnies outside.” Wesker replies, “It is the season. As long as you stay still, of course. I don’t think you’re quick enough to catch a rabbit.” He smirks at the thought, knowing damn well if they saw one Leon was going to chase it to the ends of the earth. Or until it found a burrow. 

“That sounds like a challenge.” Leon growls, “and I don’t back down from challenges.” 

“I know you don’t.” Wesker gives him a sly glance, eyes glittering with amusement. “You catch a rabbit and I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner.” 

“I’d catch a rabbit even if there weren’t a prize at the end! Deal.” 

Leon’s cheeks are flushed as he pants, dropping his bloody prize at Wesker’s feet. “A rabbit for you,” He gives a playful bow, eyes glittering happily. “caught with my own fangs!” Wesker could tell. Drying blood crusts the man’s lips and drips down his chin, staining his lean throat. 

“Thank you, dear heart.” Wesker approves, reaching down to pluck it by its ears. It had been a relatively clean kill, too, much to his surprise. “Have you been practicing?”

“Hah! No. I’m just that good.” Leon presses his side to Wesker’s, careful not to spread the rabbit’s blood to the man’s expensive clothing. 

“Well, you’ve successfully beat the challenge I set for you. What do you want for dinner?” 

“The rabbit!” 

Wesker totally passed off the butchering of the rabbit to someone else. There was no way he was about to do that . Much too messy. 

It tasted good, yes, but it was much too small for two B.O.W.s and Wesker ended up adding some steaks to their meal as well. 

Leon was fine with it—especially as he wanted Wesker to eat most of the gift he’d hunted for him. The thought of providing made his big, stupid, half-dog brain boom with serotonin. Almost more than receiving affection did. 

Leon munches on his rabbit leg, the gamey taste leaving him salivating. “I picked a good rabbit.” He decides aloud, and Wesker nods, carefully cutting some of the meat off the bones. He received the body of the rabbit, all the white meat, delicious and fat. He tries not to think too much about the implications. 

…He’s thinking a lot about the implications. 

If Leon likes him so much, and is willing to say so, then why is Wesker still trying to deny it? To himself—it’s not for Leon’s sake as much as it is for Wesker, trying to protect himself from being hurt again. 

“Do you believe in soulmates, Leon?” Wesker asks, and Leon tilts his head thoughtfully, ripping some meat from the bone. 

“I’d like it if they exist. Someone who’s so perfect for you, they fit right in…” He sighs, “but nothing is ever perfect. You have to work hard to have a good relationship.” 

“Good answer.” Wesker nods. “It would be more convenient if they did, but humans are too messy for soulmates.” Wesker was constantly striving for perfection in all aspects of his life. Perfection and power . Leon might not be either, but Wesker couldn’t imagine life without him. He didn’t want to imagine life without him. “Stay with me, Leon.” 

Leon raises an eyebrow. “I don’t want to leave. I like you.” He had no idea where this was coming from—... Oh. oh. “I… I will, Albert. Always.” Leon still struggled with relationships a bit, using the terms . He knew Wesker didn’t like them, though. He thought they were silly. 

Still, Leon knew that he was being confessed to. Finally, what he so desperately wanted was coming to fruition. It must be a damn good rabbit, Leon thinks to himself with a smile. 

“Good… Good. I’ll treasure you, Dear Heart.” 

And that is where that conversation ends, just as abruptly as Wesker started it. 

Neither of them were very good at… confessing properly, anyway. That didn’t matter, though. They knew what they were. Partners until the very end. 

Leon curls himself into Wesker’s body, humming softly under his breath. “D…does me being… tainted bother you?” He asks quietly, almost fearful of the answer. Their pre-sleep talks were normally light-hearted, but this had been weighing on Leon heavily. Wesker would kiss him, but he’d never go further. He’d never even try to initiate. 

“Tainted…? Leon, you’re not tainted.” Wesker replies, voice firm. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I just don’t have a high sex drive.” He runs his fingers through the man’s soft blonde hair, rubbing his ears gently between his calloused digits. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“No, no… I was just wondering. Some of my friends talk about their partners being ‘insatiable’ so I… you know.” Leon sighs, “That’s fine with me.” 

“You worry too much.” Wesker kisses Leon’s forehead, curling his fingers into his bangs. “If I had a problem, you know I’d let you know.” 

“I… I do.” Leon relaxes, looking relieved. “Goodnight, Albert.” 

“Goodnight, my Dear Heart.”