A/N: Here we are, chapter two! Well, enjoy and I actually want some constructive criticism .So feel free and don't go too hard; I have a bad temper about almost everything… but don't go too easy either! I like this chapter dude.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of RE, but I own this story, Marisol, Sarah, and Esmeralda.

Two Weeks Later

For some reason, the house was quiet, and it actually frightened Claire so much that she got out of bed. Once again, Wesker was not there, he was probably in the basement doing something totally unnecessary. An ominous cloud shed rain over them, and lightening was illuminating the room every now and then. Where was the thunder? Where was Sarah?

Storms normally scared her into her mother's room, or had she somehow missed this storm? No, something was definitely wrong. Claire was one of those people who believed in signs and premonitions, it was something that she had gotten from Marisol, or maybe it came with being a mother. A creak that was never there before sounded as she opened one of the bedroom doors, and down the hallway, she saw Emily with a candle in her hand, a white robe on. The maid gave her an eerie smile before disappearing around the corner.

Emily was never up this late; she worked so hard all day and whenever the chance for a break came along she would take it without arguing. Now completely alert, Claire made her way to the other wing of the house. Silently, she crept to her daughter's room, praying that she was in her bed, asleep and alone in the room. Slowly, she opened the door, her paranoia getting the best of her. The sight of an empty bed caused her eyes to go wide, as thought she was missing some of the picture.

Wordlessly, she jumped onto the bed, groping around for her child. A sound came from the walk-in closet, and her eyes suspiciously leered at it. Not considering anything but her daughter being in there, Claire ran to the door and pulled it open, finding nothing but darkness. Her hand searched the wall for the light switch, and upon finding it, she flicked it on without hesitation or fear of what may have been lurking in the large space. Nothing was in front of her, nothing was hiding behind the many outfits.

"Sarah!" she called out, receiving no answer. Fear caused her lip to quiver, and tears to form in her eyes.

"Claire." It sounded like a whisper, but from whom? Her blue eyes frantically searched the closet for anyone, for anything, but she found nothing. A shadow fell over her, and she turned to have her view blocked by a chest.

"You are an outsider." The voice was coated with a thick accent, like the intruder was Spanish. Even when she looked up, she could not see his face. Why couldn't she see his face, everything about him was shadowed and she felt so weak in comparison to him? It was like her strength was nothing. Slowly, he turned and walked away, only for Leon to take his place.

"Leon, where's Sarah?" she practically begged, ignoring the fact that he was somehow there. He did not answer. "Leon?" His eyes had turned red, like he was not in control of himself. "Le-" His hands gripped her throat tightly, stopping her from completing his name.

She had caught a glimpse of his arm and saw what appeared to be red veins, making their way up. Breathing became difficult, and she could not fight him for some reason. Instead, everything became darker, but she could still see him. Just as she was about to give up, something bright and red illuminated the surrounding area, and then she realized that it was firing rushing towards them. Burning, destroying, she could feel the heat drawing closer-

"Sarah!"

"Mommy?" Claire's breathing was labored, and she could feel beads of sweat on her forehead, but she was cold. "I'm right here." Indeed, her daughter was sitting beside her, trying to calm her mother down. Without thinking, she grabbed the girl into a tight embrace, fearing that someone would take her away.

Sweetly, Sarah asked, "Mommy did you have a bad dream?"

"Yes," Claire sobbed, finding that she was breaking into tears over a dream. This was nothing that she wanted Wesker to see, so for once, she felt fortunate that he was not there. Where did he say he was going? He said something about "Business." That most likely meant another country.

Claire did not feel safe; something was wrong, and even though it was five years ago, the image of Marisol in that coffee shop loomed in her memory. Was she right? Five years was not a long time, and now she could not get it out of her head. That same fear that she had was now haunting Claire, and she had to do what she thought was best for her family.

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Rustling on the floor had disturbed her sleep, which obviously was not that deep. Groaning, Marisol combed her hair from her face with her fingers and turned to look for Leon, who was not where he had been earlier. In their bathroom, she heard the shower running and she rolled her eyes as the rustling sound caught her attention once again. Peeking over the side of the bed, she saw nothing but the cherry oak floor and a pair of Leon's jeans. Unable to remember them doing anything, she frowned and picked them up, only for something to hiss and crawl beneath the bed.

"Did we get a cat?" she asked herself, and jumped to the floor onto her knees. In annoyance, she clicked on the lamp and resumed her search under the bed, unable to see anything still. Blindly, she groped around for anything, eventually grabbing something slimy, but she did not withdraw from it, only pulled it from under the bed as fast as she could. "What the…" It was a beige-gray color and appeared to be a rather large arachnid.

It looked like something from that movie she saw about large, black aliens with slimy skin. She believed the creatures that they used were called "face-huggers" or something like that. Whatever this was, it appeared to be dead; it lied on its back, motionless.

"Leon?" she called, hoping that he understood what was going on. Afraid that more of those things were around, she ran to the bathroom and opened the shower door, only to find that it was empty, and that the water was running for no one. Slowly, she turned off the water and looked around before cautiously making her way to Esme's room. The rustling of cloth caught her attention, but she only began to run to her daughter's room, but there was no Esme. "¿ Esme, donde estas?"

No answer, but the sound of robes rustling once again caught her attention. There were very few times in her life that she was afraid, and this was one of them. Not wanting to draw out the moment, she turned and saw someone walking out of the room, their purple robe dragging on the floor behind them. Thinking fast, she the TV remote from Esme's nightstand and threw it down the hall with all of her might. At hearing it hit the wall, she grew confused.

It was almost impossible that she would miss. They didn't duck or make it into another room that quickly, did they? Where was Leon, where was Esme? Determined to find her daughter, she ran throughout the house, finding no one. The den was empty, no one occupied the living room, the kitchen, or the dining room.

It was moments like these that she wished she did not want such a large place. Having nowhere else to look, she went back to the bedroom to pick up the phone, finally feeling that this was a moment of urgency. Just as her finger was about to hit the button, the sound of water falling stopped her. With speed that she had not used in years, she ran into the bathroom to find that the shower was on again. Enraged with the theatrical games, she flung open the sliding door to turn the shower off, but this time the shower was occupied.

Whatever had been eluding her beneath the bed earlier was back up, looking ready to attack. Before she could turn, it had jumped onto her face, holding her in a deadly embrace, one that no one would expect for the creature's size. The hisses it made were unbearable, and after struggling with it for what seemed like minutes, she pulled it off of her face and threw it to the ground, stomping on it violently with her bare feet. It shrieked as she continued her attack, but it was still alive. Thinking quickly, she took her toothbrush from the cup on the vanity and drove it into the arachnid's body over and over again until its screeches were no more.

Her eyes could not leave the sight before her, but when she remembered that her husband and daughter were missing, she stood up on her shaky legs and went back to her room. Once again, she picked up the phone, not knowing whether to call 911 or the Government.

Deciding on 911, she waited for the ring, and a male voice was on the other line. "911 what's your emergency?" That voice, the dying, French accent was subtle, but it was something that Marisol could never miss. "Hello"? It was then that she realized that the voice was not coming from the receiver, but from behind her.

The cordless phone fell to the ground with a clatter, and she turned with fear evident on her face. As Spencer's face came into view, she let out an ear-piercing scream. His hand covered her mouth, keeping her quiet.

"Hello, sweetheart," he breathed, looking at her hungrily. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as he backed her up into the bed, where he got onto her. His hand was removed from her mouth as she stopped trying to scream. She didn't even struggle, because she knew that it would be a pointless fight. "God, how I've missed you."

Shuddering beneath him, she heard his breathing change drastically, as though he was enjoying her fear. So many times had she been in this position, so many times had she been helpless against him. Silently, she pleaded that he not put her through this again, that he just let her live a peaceful life with the man that she loved.

"You're coming back with me," he whispered into her ear. Once again, she let out a scream of protest, flailing her arms in all directions, trying to get him off of her.

"Marisol, be still!" Daring to open her eyes, she was met with the sight of Leon, his face red and scratched. "No more midnight snacks!" he shouted.

"Wha-?" she started, only to be interrupted by Esme.

"Ew! Lock your door when you do that!" she yelled, running back to her room in fear that she may have just seen her parents "having relations." Leon gave a heavy sigh as he watched his wife reach for the phone. Just as she started dialing, the phone rang, causing both of them to scream in surprise.

"Dammit!" he yelled, going into the bathroom to splash his face with water.

"Hello?" she asked shakily. "Claire! Yeah- no. What? Now? No, no, it's ok. Yeah. All right."

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Playing with the sleeves of her jacket, Marisol watched Esme play on the tire swing that hung from the tall oak in the front yard. Behind her, she could feel Leon staring at her from the dining room window. After last night, even she was worried about herself. Several cars passed by before she spotted a silver Escalade that slowed down as it reached the driveway. A smile on her face, Esme jumped from the tire and jumped excitedly as the car stopped and another little girl ran out of it.

"Sarah!" she cried happily as the red haired girl embraced her. Marisol watched the two run around the house to play in the backyard, and then her attention fell on the red haired woman that had just locked the car. Claire's puffy eyes were met with sympathy from Marisol's gray ones. Not saying a word, Marisol embraced her friend, whispering calming words into her ear as she sobbed onto her shoulder. Her own eyes beginning to tear up, she ushered Claire to the front door of her home.

Once inside, they sat at the kitchen counter, watching their daughters swing while they drank cappuccinos. Leon had served them, and now poured some coffee for himself, eying the two women with interest. After learning that Claire had come here because of a dream, he felt that he had something to be worried about.

Marisol tucked her long bangs behind her ear and took a sip of her beverage before asking, "Where's Wesker?"

"I don't know. Probably in Europe somewhere," she said, licking her lips. Leon sat across from them and silently drank his coffee. "He's been quite busy lately and I called him. He said for me to just stay here until he got back."

"That'll take weeks," said Marisol, and she bit her bottom lip in thought.

"Tell us about this dream that had you all shook up," said Leon, interested in hearing what made her want to take off with her child in the middle of the night. Also, he was not too happy to be having a conversation about Wesker.

Claire frowned at first, trying to remember what happened. "I woke up and Wesker and Sarah were missing. I went in her closet and this guy that was like seven feet was there… And then you were there Leon." Seeming to be more interested, Leon leaned forward, showing that he was listening. "You were choking me, like you were controlled, and then there was an explosion. Oh! The guy said something like, 'You are an outsider.' What about your dream Marisol?"

"Leon and Esme were both missing. There was this 'face-hugger' thing and a man… he was in a purple robe. Then I called 911, but the man that was talking wasn't on the phone, he was behind me. It was Spencer and he tried to… Yeah."

"They're just dreams," groaned Leon, rubbing his temples.

"Excuse me if it's in me and Monette's blood to take dreams seriously," snapped Marisol, before taking another sip of her drink. Behind Leon, she saw the girls still swinging, seeing who could jump off farther. Marisol saw Claire staring at the kids, afraid that they would get hurt. "Don't worry, they're strong. The other day Esme kicked a Doberman in the ribs and managed to bruise 'em." Claire gave her a wide-eyed look, but she told her how the dog had been growling at her.

Worry for her daughter was the main reason that she came here. She had forgotten that her child could defend herself quite well, but she would never agree that there was such a thing as too much protection for her child. However far she had to go was never to far, and she would be damned if someone took her away. God have mercy on anyone who tried to take her.

A/N: It's shorter than I planned on making it, but I'm pretty sleepy right now. So give me reviews and I'll give you… more chapters! Peace.