Comforting Words

Ten-year-old Alfred Ashford poked his head inside the door, checking his sister's room if she was there. Alexia seemed to be absent for most of the day, and like the good brother that he was, Alfred was incredibly concerned. His sister wasn't always troubled, and he didn't even know when was the last time she got troubled. He sighed, disappointed upon finding the room empty. Silently, he closed the door, wondering where his sister could be.

He knew her well to know what she liked, what she hated, what she despised so much, and what made her extremely evil to everyone. Indeed, it's as if Alfred is Alexia's male counterpart, and it didn't actually surprise anyone to see that one is chasing after the other. What he didn't know, though, was where Alexia heads when she is troubled. Alfred mundanely trudged across the large hall, making his way down the huge staircase, in hopes of finding clues as to where his sister is right now. He was deep in thought, ticking off all the places where he thought Alexia could be. Realizing that he had looked almost everywhere and that there was no other possible location he could look in, he sighed.

He sat down on a chair. Thinking felt incredibly tiring, and for a while, Alfred tried to figure out how Alexia endured all this business with Umbrella. He tapped his chin, gently biting his tongue. He saw Alexia earlier that day, and she definitely looked troubled and incredibly mad. He was so scared of her expression that he didn't dare try to strike a conversation with her, even if he was desperate to do so.

"Where is Alexia?" he muttered to himself. "Someone under this roof should know, though I don't think anyone around here knows everything that happens in this household."

Suddenly, Harman emerged from behind a door, dusting cloth and window cleaner cradled in his arms. Alfred looked up, and, as if a lightbulb was immediately lit above his head, got an idea. He scrambled to his feet, almost tripping, as he ran to Harman, who was already heading for another room.

"Harman! Harman, wait!"

The butler turned around, an eyebrow raised. "What is it, Sir Alfred?"

"I'd like to know if you've seen my sister around recently?"

Harman chuckled. "Well, it is quite unusual for you not knowing where your sister is right now." he said gently (Alfred frowned at this remark). "I'm afraid that if you don't know where she is, no one does. You're usually the one who knows."

"But," he quickly added, before Alfred slinked away, hopes of finding his sister lower than ever, "I do recall Chef Franklin telling me that he saw Miss Alexia exit to the garden." Of course! Why didn't I think of the garden before? He thought, scolding himself. He grinned at Harman. Before he could utter a word of thanks, he had gone, dashing off to the nearest set of doors that led outside.

She wiped her eyes with a white handkerchief, not making any noise but definitely crying. She was sure everyone noticed that she in a very bad mood, but she couldn't let her angst-filled tears roll on her face in front of everybody. Their father will surely have a fit, and Alexia was very sure that he won't consider that something worth crying over. Foolish father. Yes, she felt guilty that she didn't let her dear brother know about this, but what choice did she have? Nobody saw her cry. Ever. It would worry a lot of people under the house, but it would worry Alfred the most. He depended on her so much that she thought it would break him even more when he saw her crying.

Alexia punched on the garden bench, wiping her tears. She didn't hate that Albert Wesker - she despised him. She despised him so much that she plotted against him, but everyone thought so greatly of that Wesker person that a lot of people would hate her if something happened to him. And how would something happen to him? He was a genius. Perhaps not as smart as Alexia, but seeing that he was a lot older than her, people tended to listen to him more than to her. The idea brought more tears to the girl's face.

What she needed was comfort. But we can't have all of that now, can we? It wasn't something so personal, but she felt that Wesker was competition, stealing everything she dreamt of away from her, even if he didn't realize it. A vulnerable little spoke in echoes in her head - who gave a grown man the right to make a little girl cry?

She knew she had to be strong, but how, when everyone was in favor of the great Wesker?

"A... Alexia?"

Alexia jumped in her seat slightly. She never expected someone to find her in this secret spot hidden behind the garden. But then again, she never expected someone to rival her genius that easily. She looked around, seeing her brother at the black, decorative gate, almost completely concealed by overgrown vines. She hastily wiped off the fresh tears on her face, collecting her voice the best she could but failing miserably. No words could find their way out of her mouth quickly.

"What are you doing here?" Alfred asked, greatly interested with his sister's activities. He approached the garden bench and sat beside her. Alexia did her best to hide her eyes, puffy from all the tears. "Is there a problem?"

She shook her head vigorously, but she knew well that Alfred looked through all her excuses and answers, and he knew which ones were lies and which ones were sincere.

"I don't believe you." he said flatly. "What's wrong, sister? Do tell me. I'll see if I can help."

Alexia looked at him. "You wouldn't understand."

"I'll try." He held her hand gently.

"Alfred, I cannot tell anyone this. It seems like a very shallow reason to cry, but someone is trying to steal everything from me. That Albert Wesker. Everyone likes him, everyone likes his ideas. No one gives attention to me. I try hard to be productive for Umbrella, but ever since that Wesker came to Umbrella, everyone has been overlooking my experiments, my work. Everyone prefers him over me, and I'm afraid that I'll be forgotten as fast as I got discovered by the company." she buried her face in the white handkerchief.

Alexia was right. He couldn't understand. Maybe it was something about being a genius, that's why he didn't really understand. He can't understand. Neither could he leave her alone in this state. No matter how far fetched and silly the reason was, he had to be there for her. It seemed very important to Alexia, as she had not cried over things for so many years. Alfred remembered every single moment when Alexia comforted him in his time of need. Could he abandon her? He took his own handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed her eyes with it. Alexia looked at him with wonder.

"Don't cry, Alexia..." he said softly, folding the used handkerchief neatly. He looked at her again. "Don't worry. You won't ever be forgotten. Even if everyone's impressed over that Wesker man, there are those who still like you very much. I'll always be there for you, and I won't leave or forget you when Umbrella does."

She smiled at him warmly and pulled her brother in a tight hug.

"I've been looking all over for you ever since you disappeared this morning. I reckoned you needed company. I thought you were upset, the way you went around the house this morning."

"Well, thank you, Alfred. You made my day. You certainly have." She kissed her twin at the forehead and giggled. Alfred blushed. "I'm glad to know that my brother is always there for me."

A/N: Well, another fic there. I thought I had to lay off the dramatic plots for a while, and thought that a lighthearted one would do. It seems that Alfred and Alexia's personalities here aren't really similar to the Alfred and Alexia that we all know and love.... er, you people DO love Alfred and Alexia, don't you? Well, anyway, I'd like to know what you thought about this oneshot. I didn't know how to end it, so I figured that, hey, maybe Alexia saying something would do. So I did just that. So... thoughts? Comments? Flames? Hate mail? Anything?

DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Resident Evil, Alfred and Alexia Ashford, or even Harman the butler. That Chef Franklin guy, though, I made him up, so I guess I own the character? But anyway, I'll make it clear again: I DON'T OWN RE. I hope no one's foolish enough to think so. I mean, if I did own the series or two of its characters, would I publish a fanfic right here? I'd like to own Alfred Ashford, though, :DDDDD