Author's note: this is a fic I wrote while watching Romeo and Juliet;
because Steve reminded me a little of the younger Leonardo Decaprio, I
wrote a lover's tale on a whim and it makes little to no sense. This is
like a random chapter for my other story, Unscathed, in which Steve is
brought back to life. A scratched idea, if that makes sense. If you want,
imagine that Steve's back and they're kicking some Umbrella ass when things
go wrong. Terribly wrong. Flames are welcome, but make sure they're
constructive. ;p -- rhea@mayaku.org
***
Blood caked the cell's walls. It dripped from the airvents, dribbled down the graffitied wall and pooled up in a puddle on the cracked cement floor. Rustling sounds echoed throughout the room; something was in the damn vents. Sherry Birken wrapped her arms around the lifeless body of Claire Redfield and buried her face into the young woman's vest. She didn't want to see Claire's vacant blue eyes anymore and she didn't want to see what was coming out of the vent. She just wanted it to be over.
The cell door swung open and Sherry gasped. She lifted her face off Claire's body and glanced up towards the doorway. Through the dim hallway light, she could make out the form of a teenage boy. "Steve..?"
The seventeen year old stood there, silenced by what he saw. The CB-radio that was attached to his belt crackled once and went on being ignored. "What.. happened.. in here?" He choked the words out, his voice cracking.
"Claire.. she's.."
"Where was Leon? Where was Leon? Where.. the hell was Leon?" He took a step into the room. "Did he let Claire die? They wouldn't let me be on her side, no, they had to let Leon S. Kennedy take care of things. Leon. Yes. Leon with his rookie cop charm, Leon with his crush on Claire." Steve took another step towards the dead Redfield.
The radio crackled again and Sherry could hear Chris' voice: "Steve.... Jill taking Ty... Weske..."
Steve deftly picked up the radio. "Chris, Claire's.. dead." He flicked the off button and shoved it back into his pant pocket. Then, directed towards Sherry: "Why did you let her die?"
Sherry looked into Steve's eyes. She could feel the rage radiating from him. "I didn't let her die, I swear to God." This was the only thing she could hurl out in her defense as he approached her. She could tell something was wrong. Very wrong.
"You killed Claire. You and Leon killed Claire."
"Nnnnno. We didn't kill Claire. We love Claire." Sherry buried her face into the vest again, breathing in and out. It still smelled like the nineteen year old; sweaty, warm and somehow girlish.
"Love?" He scoffed. "You don't even know what love is."
Sherry blinked. "Steve..? Are you.. ok?" He obviously wasn't. The teen was sweating, his face was red. He was on the brink... He already had lost it.
He didn't respond to her question. Instead he shoved the young girl out of his way and kneeled down next to Claire. Her face was growing pale and blood streaked her cheeks. He ran his hands up and down her beautiful, beautiful face. He started to kiss her, slowly at first, then speeding up as he covered her face with his lips. He kissed her until he could kiss more and through his kisses she was alive, she was never dead..
Tears spilled onto their faces and he pulled away. They were his tears. His face twisted up in agony and he howled. He cried for their lost love, he cried for her and then he cried for himself. He was all alone again. It felt like a needle was in his heart and it pressed deeper and deeper until he couldn't take it anymore. Claire was gone. The only reason he was alive was gone. He lifted the pistol to his temple and gestured towards Sherry. "Leave Sherry."
Sherry grabbed his arm. "Steve, you're not thinking straightly."
"Maybe I'm not.."
"Steve.." Sherry stepped backwards as he turned the gun to her.
"Leave." That was all he offered.
Sherry Birken exited the room and a few minutes later, the crack of a Desert Eagle being fired rang out.
***
Blood caked the cell's walls. It dripped from the airvents, dribbled down the graffitied wall and pooled up in a puddle on the cracked cement floor. Rustling sounds echoed throughout the room; something was in the damn vents. Sherry Birken wrapped her arms around the lifeless body of Claire Redfield and buried her face into the young woman's vest. She didn't want to see Claire's vacant blue eyes anymore and she didn't want to see what was coming out of the vent. She just wanted it to be over.
The cell door swung open and Sherry gasped. She lifted her face off Claire's body and glanced up towards the doorway. Through the dim hallway light, she could make out the form of a teenage boy. "Steve..?"
The seventeen year old stood there, silenced by what he saw. The CB-radio that was attached to his belt crackled once and went on being ignored. "What.. happened.. in here?" He choked the words out, his voice cracking.
"Claire.. she's.."
"Where was Leon? Where was Leon? Where.. the hell was Leon?" He took a step into the room. "Did he let Claire die? They wouldn't let me be on her side, no, they had to let Leon S. Kennedy take care of things. Leon. Yes. Leon with his rookie cop charm, Leon with his crush on Claire." Steve took another step towards the dead Redfield.
The radio crackled again and Sherry could hear Chris' voice: "Steve.... Jill taking Ty... Weske..."
Steve deftly picked up the radio. "Chris, Claire's.. dead." He flicked the off button and shoved it back into his pant pocket. Then, directed towards Sherry: "Why did you let her die?"
Sherry looked into Steve's eyes. She could feel the rage radiating from him. "I didn't let her die, I swear to God." This was the only thing she could hurl out in her defense as he approached her. She could tell something was wrong. Very wrong.
"You killed Claire. You and Leon killed Claire."
"Nnnnno. We didn't kill Claire. We love Claire." Sherry buried her face into the vest again, breathing in and out. It still smelled like the nineteen year old; sweaty, warm and somehow girlish.
"Love?" He scoffed. "You don't even know what love is."
Sherry blinked. "Steve..? Are you.. ok?" He obviously wasn't. The teen was sweating, his face was red. He was on the brink... He already had lost it.
He didn't respond to her question. Instead he shoved the young girl out of his way and kneeled down next to Claire. Her face was growing pale and blood streaked her cheeks. He ran his hands up and down her beautiful, beautiful face. He started to kiss her, slowly at first, then speeding up as he covered her face with his lips. He kissed her until he could kiss more and through his kisses she was alive, she was never dead..
Tears spilled onto their faces and he pulled away. They were his tears. His face twisted up in agony and he howled. He cried for their lost love, he cried for her and then he cried for himself. He was all alone again. It felt like a needle was in his heart and it pressed deeper and deeper until he couldn't take it anymore. Claire was gone. The only reason he was alive was gone. He lifted the pistol to his temple and gestured towards Sherry. "Leave Sherry."
Sherry grabbed his arm. "Steve, you're not thinking straightly."
"Maybe I'm not.."
"Steve.." Sherry stepped backwards as he turned the gun to her.
"Leave." That was all he offered.
Sherry Birken exited the room and a few minutes later, the crack of a Desert Eagle being fired rang out.