Disclaimer- Don't own Resident Evil. Capcom does.
I'm sure alot of people have probably written fics based on this part, but I felt like giving it a shot myself. There's not much Claire/Steve love out there, much like Billy/Rebecca; those two pairings are my OTPs of the RE series!
Sorry if anything seems OOC, this is the first time I've ever written for Steve.
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0xx0
It was completely agonizing, like his entire essence was being ripped apart at the seams. One minute he was pressed against the wall, held by iron bars as she frantically tried to find a way to free him, the next his very soul was on fire, the heat radiating through his entire body until his cheeks flushed deepest crimson and his body went rigged with pain.
At that point he thought he may have said something to her, perhaps her name; it was hard to tell when pain was so intense you were seeing nothing but spots and hearing a horrible buzzing in your ears. Bones popped and cracked, dismembering at the joints and then elongating and realigning in some new shape or form. It made him cry out in true and unparalled agony, but the scream came out much deeper than normal, wet and gravelly and so angry.
Throughout the entire ordeal he could barely focus on anything, but at some point her horrified face swam into view a few feet below him, as if she had shrunk.
A part of him ached at the sight of her terrified gaze and covered mouth, wanting to reach out and touch her, hold her...but he couldn't. Another part of him, a part that was quickly overpowering his other, was pleased at the sight of her fear, became excited by it, ready to reach out and tear her limb from limb, to taste her blood and sweat and fear. In the most literal sense.
No, he thought vaguely. No, not Claire!
But it was no use, and suddenly his new claws were wrapped around something metal, wrenching it from the wall as though it were a feather. A gutteral, animal sound ripped from his throat and he took a pounding step forward, talons digging into the concrete like it was dirt.
She raised her guns, a painful, uncertain expression on her face.
Another throbbing ache in his mutated heart.
Run, Claire, I can't stop!
As if hearing his silent plea, she turned the sub machines to the floor and spun on the spot, legs and arms pumping hard. Another feral snarl escaped him, this time excited by the thrill of a chase.
He took a step, then another, and he was horrified at how fast he caught up to her, at how he swung the ax up high and brought it down in a swinging motion that very nearly clipped her ponytail.
Claire!
Two more steps and he was caught up again, roaring as the ax swung again, this time cutting through one of the suits of armor on either side as he narrowly missed her neck.
A few more steps, the ax raised high again--
--and suddenly she was sliding across the ground in front of him and there was a metal gate of iron bars in his path. She was safe on the other side.
He had a moment to feel joy for her, but then a blinding rage swept through him and he was hacking at the gate left and right, screaming savagely as each swing made jarring contact. She stared at him with fear and pity and a whole other range of emotions he couldn't begin to identify.
God, I'm sorry, Claire!
The bars were giving way against the onslaught and he wondered why the hell she wasn't running, why wasn't she running!?
There was a loud noise and then concrete and cement rubble was tumbling around her as he continued his blood lust against the only thing keeping her safe. Something green and slimy snaked through the newly created hole in the wall and he saw a tentacle not unlike the one that had so spectacularly ruined their escape in the snow mobile.
There was a panicked yell as the vine wound itself around her, pinning her arms and legs together and then simply holding her there, suspended...
Holding her for him.
A crash and the bars were gone and he was squeezing his surprisingly agile bulk through, drooling with delight as he reached her. The tentacle tightened around her.
He pulled the ax high into the air.
Please, God no, no, NO! I made a promise!
The ax came down, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head--
--and then it stopped.
He blinked and suddenly everything was clearer, sharper as he took in the ax that had stopped mere millimeters from her exposed neck. He struggled internally, trying to find his voice.
"Cl-Claire." The voice was deep and distorted, but she seemed to understand and looked at him with some strange mixture of hope and dread. He struggled a moment longer--the monster was fighting for control--and then he yelled and hiked the ax back and brought it down hard.
A clean slice and the front half of the tentacle dropped like lead, taking her with it and unraveling as it died. She kicked it away and looked over at him, perhaps about to smile, but then there was a shriek and something struck him so hard in the chest he felt several ribs crack as he was lifted off his feet.
He hit the wall with enough force to crack it, sliding down and curling in pain. He heard noise as what was left of the tentacle retreated.
He couldn't focus on anything, fading in and out of blackness as pain wracked his body once again, this time as his bones and skin and organs returned to their original states. His whole body was cold except for a warmth pooling in his stomach; it could only be blood from some organ punctured. He was dying, and even as the thought struck him he could feel himself slipping away.
"Steve..."
He managed to lift his head up and there she was, looking battered and emotionally drained, but still beautiful and quite unharmed. With a strained twitch of a smile, he grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cool cheek. It was so warm, reminding him of their flight to this hell hole, when she had slept against him and her warm breath had tickled his neck.
It seemed like it had happened ages ago.
He didn't know what to do except keep her hand on his face, barely able to focus on the words coming out of her mouth as her eyes became moist with unshed tears. He caught something about her brother, and about how they(Steve and her) were supposed to escape together...
Yet another way he had failed her. He was dying on her; he was supposed to live and leave with her.
His strength was ebbing fast, and it was quite an effort to respond to her; he wasn't even sure what he said. He kept his heavy eyes open as long as he could, studying her beautiful blue eyes, thinking that even though he was dying in such a terrible way in such a disgusting place, that at least the last thing he would see would be her.
She was kind and pretty and sincere; she was like an angel.
He realized in that moment that he loved her. He'd never met anyone quite like her; he knew he must have annoyed her at some point, but despite that she stuck with him and helped him overcome emotional obstacles. This wasn't some pathetic hormone driven feeling, he could tell that much.
His whole body was going numb, and he knew this was it, he was dead. He'd tried so hard for her, he had...God was a cruel bastard.
He used his last breath to tell her exactly how he felt for her, then his eyes dropped closed and his head fell forward, and he heard a choked sob and his name and everything faded into oblivion.
Claire...
x0x0x0x0x0
I'd love to see Steve back, but I also DON'T want him to come back. He probably just wouldn't be the same Steve....=-( Anyway, please RxR!