A/N: I'm trying hard to write something here with less dialogue, because I find that much harder...I'd love some comments on how this reads.
Disclaimer: Well, would you look at that; I still don't own any of the characters or story of the Resident Evil films (or games, or novels for that matter). Lame.
The porch swing was coming loose, Claire noticed as she sat on the step, enjoying the last rays of sunshine.
'Hey, Claire!'
The now-greying redhead looked up to see a small horde of blonde children descending upon her, a tall blonde woman behind them. It was she who had called to Claire, probably to warn her to prepare herself for the kids, who were at least as hyperactive as their mother had ever been.
Bracing herself for the impact of the five year old twins, she hugged the two boys tightly until they squirmed to be released. The two older children, both girls, were a bit more sedate in their greeting, but the younger of the two still climbed into Claire's lap for a hug. 'Hey sweetie. How are you guys doing?'
'We're good, Auntie Claire.' The oldest girl, who was ten now - where did time go? Claire thought - was the one who answered.
'All right, K?' Claire greeted the blonde woman, who smiled at her and then sat on the porch swing. 'Oh, careful, the chain's coming loose at the top there, see?'
K-Mart stood up quickly, moving to one of the wicker stools instead. 'I'll see if I can get someone to fix that for you.' She paused, her expression an amused frown. 'Now don't give me that look. You know you'll never do it yourself.'
Claire shrugged at this. Did it really matter if the swing was loose anyway?
'Why don't you guys go play in the yard, I need to catch up with Claire.' K-Mart said to the children.
'Sure thing.' The eldest grinned and jumped up from the step where she'd been sitting, herding the other three in front of her to give the adults time alone. Claire smiled as she watched her go.
'She's so much like you, you know that?'
'I know. I wonder if my parents were as exhausted by me as I am by her.' K-Mart was smiling, thoughts of her family were so distant now that grief had been replaced by fondness for the few memories she had.
'Probably. I was sometimes.' Claire grinned at K-Mart's mock-hurt expression. 'And how's the rest of the flock of little K-Marts doing? You know, they kind of look like something out of a horror film I saw once. I forget what it's called now though.' She paused, thinking. 'Or maybe it was a book?'*
K-Mart laughed cheerfully and shook her head. 'I could believe that sometimes. But yeah, we're doing well. Sarah really helps with the boys, but I wish she'd hang out with kids her own age a bit more.'
'School's opened now though, right?' Claire said.
K-Mart nodded. 'Yep. The whole school will be at the award ceremony tomorrow.'
Claire groaned at the reminder of this. She knew it was why K-Mart had come to visit, to make sure the old woman didn't forget her duties, but still, it would be tedious and she didn't necessarily want to remember the things that would come up.
'Do I have to do this?' Claire knew she sounded like a whining child, but she didn't care. She stood up and leaned on the porch railing, looking out over the little town.
'Yep.' K-Mart said again. Then she softened. 'It'll be okay. Just one day, and then you can come back here and be a recluse again.' She smiled, though Claire knew the girl worried about her; wanted her to move into the city, with the reliable power and water supplies. But she had lived in this house for fifteen years, ten of those with Alice, and she wasn't ready to leave yet.
When Claire said nothing in response to this, K-Mart stood up. 'Well,' Claire raised an eyebrow at the impatient tone in K-Mart's voice. Impatience for an old woman, she thought and the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. 'I'd better get home. We'll be here for you at nine tomorrow morning, okay?'
Claire nodded, silent, waiting for whatever it was K-Mart was hesitating to tell her.
'They're sending one of the government cars for you. You're an important person, Claire.' K-Mart paused. 'They're offering you a house in the city, you know that, right?'
And there it was, Claire thought to herself. Of course it would be easier on K if she moved closer. And she could see the kids more often, which would be nice. She had always liked children, but although the survivors were all encouraged to have children as soon as the cure established itself and the flora and fauna began to recover, no-one had ever suggested it to Claire. Too much in awe of her perhaps? Alice had simply refused, saying that there was no way to know what had happened to her body while the virus was inside her – which had of course turned out to be a valid concern, Claire thought, a sad and wistful look in her eyes as she watched K-Mart's children playing in the dusk.
'Claire?' K-Mart had been saying something, and Claire hadn't heard.
'Sorry.'
'I was just saying that maybe you could move to the city just for the winter. I know it gets cold out here, and we've got good heating systems now.'
Smiling, Claire put an arm around K-Mart and squeezed her shoulders. 'Sure, maybe.'
'Is that a yes or a no?'
'I'll think about it.' And K-Mart had to be content with that answer.
She started to leave, calling the kids, but then turned. 'Come to dinner? You can stay with us tonight, it'd be a quicker journey tomorrow.' She had her most worried frown on, and Claire almost relented. But no, she was a stubborn old woman now and she had to live up to that expectation from those around her.
'I have my dinner almost ready.' She lied. In fact, Claire ate very little, especially since Alice had gone. There wasn't much point cooking for one, she always said when K-Mart expressed her concern. And anyway, those years after the infection, in the desert and then after - Claire shuddered at the thought of the eighteen months spent like an animal – had taught her body to survive on meagre rations.
Claire waved the K-Mart flock goodbye, then headed back into her dark little house. The house had been repaired from an old frame that had survived the rot and fires that had claimed so many buildings of it's kind after the infection. It had needed a lot of work but they'd had to turn people away, there were so many wanting to help build Alice and Claire's house. As a result of this abundance of helpfulness, they'd ended up with elaborately carved details in unlikely places. The stair rail had always been Claire and Alice's least favourite of the carvings – hands clasped together, 'to show unity amongst the survivors' the artist had explained and the couple had smiled and nodded, but secretly it just reminded them both of the twisted arms of the undead reaching for them.
They'd also been given a lot of rather grand furniture, despite the fact that both would have been content with a simple table and the most basic of beds. Now most of it was just getting dusty, and Claire wondered if K-Mart would want the huge dining table. But she probably had one already, a clean glass-topped one from the new factory no doubt.
But at the top of the stairs was a painted carving that she and Alice both loved more than any of the other things in the house. The paint was chipping and wearing thin now, and Alice wished the artist were still alive – he had been an old man when he'd made this – to fix it up for her. The carving showed a phoenix rising from the ashes of a broken down town, tiny figures of Alice and Claire walking away from the viewer and into the town. It really was beautiful.
But what Claire loved most about it, the thing that so many others ignored, was that he out of everyone who had fallen over themselves to help the couple had acknowledged that they were actually a couple: The figures were holding hands, and Claire let a finger trace the carved hands affectionately, as she had almost every night for the last five years.
Tired and stiff, Claire climbed the last few steps to reach her bedroom. Well, it wasn't really her bedroom; she had slept in the guest bedroom for so long now. It just hadn't felt right to sleep in the bed she had shared with Alice, but tonight she hesitated before climbing into the single bed.
All in a rush, she grabbed up her bedding – comforter, blankets, pillows – and half carried, half dragged them to the old bedroom. She hadn't really changed anything in the room, only taken the sheets from the bed – or had K-Mart done that? She couldn't remember now – and kept everything dust-free, unlike the rest of the house. A couple of the photos had made their way into the guest bedroom by K-Mart's hand, and sometimes she would sit in here and remember life before Alice had gone, but mostly it had remained undisturbed.
She curled up on the bare mattress, wrapped in her quilt and touched the side of the bed where Alice used to sleep. Embarrassed by her own actions, she moved a couple of pillows over to Alice's side, and lay with her arm over them. She sighed, closed her eyes and imagined Alice's warm body there, pretended she could hear the rhythmic breathing, remembered nights wondering if Alice would be woken by nightmares again, Claire always there to soothe her and help her sleep again.
For the first time in years, Claire Redfield cried herself to sleep.
Pausing at the top of the stairs before she went out to meet the car waiting for her, Claire looked again at the carving of the phoenix, an indecisive frown hovering on her face. She started at the touch on her arm but turned slowly. She always moved more slowly these days, all the old injuries were beginning to bother her. Maybe a warm house for the winter wouldn't be a bad idea after all, she thought.
'It's time to go, Claire.' K-Mart said, apologetic but firm.
Claire nodded, feeling suddenly very tired, and older than she really ought to. At least I can sleep in the car, she thought, allowing K-Mart to take her arm and lead her to the car.
After the months she had spent drugged by Umbrella, Claire's memory had continually failed her. The doctors had thought it was because of the trauma of being alone in the wilderness as well, since K-Mart and the other survivors didn't share the same side effects. One problem was that she couldn't remember names very well, and had never been able to keep hold of K-Mart's husband's name.
He was there now, holding the door of the big black car, smiling broadly, an arm ready to help her in. She smiled at him, hoping that this time she would just remember his name. She didn't. He reminded her of her brother sometimes. But he wasn't called Chris, she knew that much. And anyway, Chris had died a long time ago now – killed in a stupid accident while they were building one of the new houses.
Some youthful official of the new city sat up front, and he turned round to Claire. He barely looked old enough to be out of school, let alone leading the new world.
'It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Redfield.'
Claire smiled and shook his offered hand politely, wishing she was anywhere but there. She turned from him before he could say anything more to her, watching the little town slip away past the windows of the dark car. The houses were all so neat here; it was mostly the older survivors living around her now, and they enjoyed looking after their little gardens and houses. Repainting them every year, keeping the flowerbeds weed-free. Flowers were important now though, after so many years with none, Claire thought. Of course, she didn't have to do any work on her house if she didn't want to. The old man from down the road – Claire laughed at herself using the word 'old' to describe a man barely five years older than her – would paint the house and the fence, and the woman next door was only too happy to potter in Claire's garden when she had finished her own.
Settling back into the comfortable seats, Claire closed her eyes to try and fend off the exhaustion she still felt. Her home was in the original settlement, now almost a ghost town, but with a tiny store and cafe and even a filling station for the new biofuels that the modified cars ran on. But most of the survivors had moved to the new city, a thirty minute drive away on the reasonably smooth and well-kept dirt roads.
Claire couldn't remember the name of the city. No, that wasn't true, she could remember what it had been called before the infection, but it had been given a new name when the rebuilding started. Not that it was really a city - just a larger town than the one she now lived in. And it really wasn't important what it was called anyway, there was nowhere else to go so that you could get there and say 'I'm from -.' All that mattered was that there was a fresh river running through it, the ocean wasn't far and the land nearby was fertile.
They stopped at K-Mart's house briefly so that her husband could take the boys in. They'd only get irritable and wouldn't understand the ceremony, so he'd volunteered to stay at home with them. Claire wished she could offer to babysit instead.
'Claire Redfield and her late brother Chris were pivotal in returning life to the planet. With their companion Alice-'
Claire shook her head sadly and stopped listening to the speech. She'd heard it before after all. Well no, she hadn't heard it before, she had lived it. Only her version was much, much more violent and grief-ridden than this watered-down one was. They wouldn't mention the people she had lost along the way. And of course, they would miss out the most important part; how it had been her love for Alice, and Alice's for her, that had kept them alive long enough to ever discover the Umbrella labs which had ultimately led them to the cure.
'...and so this celebration today is to honour Claire with this monument and plaque. For the woman who changed the world, and the memory of her brother, Chris, and friend, Alice.'
Friend. Claire shook her head again. Yes, the world had changed, that much was true. A shining fresh world from the ashes of the old one. A chance to do things right this time. But yet not so different, Claire realised as she looked at the crowd applauding her. Most of these people were still the same people that had lived before the infection. She looked at K-Mart's daughters waving at her and the group of children from the new school with their hopeful faces filled with awe at seeing the person they had been told about in their lessons.
She took her place at the podium, slowly, and the crowd fell silent, waiting.
'I'd like to thank Mr- umm; this handsome young gentleman-' polite smiles from the young officials on the stage at this lapse of memory from an old woman '-for such a wonderful introduction and explanation of the events that led to the cure and, ultimately, to all you see around you.' She hesitated, taking a deep breath, and glanced again at K-Mart and her daughters for strength. K-Mart smiled and nodded, looking all at once like the teenager Claire had known back in Nevada. She knew what Claire had in mind, as she always did. She'd known about Claire and Alice before anyone else, she'd known that Alice wasn't well even though neither Claire nor Alice had said anything to her. The day Alice died, she had answered the door and before Claire had even had time to open her mouth, she had pulled her into a comforting hug. She always just knew. Claire smiled back at her, then at everyone in the crowd, the old mischievous spark returning to her eye.
'However, I think the real story is much more interesting.'
And Claire told the gathered crowd the real story of her and Alice; how their devotion to each other had saved the world.
*Claire is of course referring to 'The Midwich Cuckoos', a book that has also been made into films but under different titles.
