They remained there for a while, huddled up against the back wall of the dark room as they listened to the thundering of footsteps from the floor above. The monster Claire had the misfortune of discovering was terrifyingly sentient, slamming doors as it systematically searched the precinct, and she could only assume it was on the hunt for her. She hoped that she was simply overreacting as she closed her eyes, listening to its heavy stomping as it ascended the staircase.
"Once it passes through, we can make our way to the S.T.A.R.S. office." Leon whispered.
She nodded in the darkness despite his inability to see her. What she was truly hoping to find up there, she wasn't sure. Kevin had told her that Chris left the station and, although he had no reason to lie, a small part of her desperately wished she'd somehow find him there. Even in the worst case scenario, the more likely one in which Chris wasn't casually waiting for her, she assumed they would at least find medical supplies.
Claire was seated on the floor, knees bent with her elbows resting on top of them. Overwhelmed, she let out a heavy sigh and buried her face in her hands, a movement Leon felt on account of their shoulders being in contact with one another's. In response, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her opposite arm a reassuring rub.
"Don't worry, Claire. We're going to find your brother and get out of Raccoon City."
Despite the conviction with which he spoke, she didn't necessarily believe him. She gave him a weak smile in the dark and nodded her head, not particularly keen on the idea of getting into a potential argument with him as a result of her negativity.
The monster's heavy footfalls eventually faded into a muted stomp, the slamming of doors muffled to such a low octave that they could hardly hear it. Leon helped her to her feet with a steady hand, stalling for a moment to ensure that she was stable on her feet while standing. Claire hissed and braced her side with an open palm, forcing herself to breathe slowly on account of the stabbing pain in her side.
"Claire?"
There he went again, talking with that soft voice that brought a flush to her cheeks and made her heart flutter into her throat.
"I'm fine, really."
She wasn't.
Leon pulled the door ajar and pressed a gentle hand against her upper back as she moved through it, instinctively squinting as the fluorescent lights of the hallway assaulted her senses. With one hand on her side and the other tightly gripping her freshly reloaded handgun, she made her way to the first landing at an embarrassingly sluggish pace.
Biting her lower lip, she looked back at Leon, and he smiled encouragingly.
"Take your time. We're already halfway there."
Just as she made her way to the next step, a loud beating echoed from the base of the stairs. She leaned over the bannister to peer back down to find a zombie angrily throwing itself at the window, desperate to make its way in.
Claire felt the familiar fist of fear close around her heart and she nearly coughed, suddenly short of breath. That...thing was going to find them.
"Oh fuck…"
She gripped the handrail tightly and attempted to shuffle up the stairs more swiftly, but her pace was unimpressive at best. The heavy stomping of footsteps grew louder, becoming increasingly more audible over the noise of the zombie attempting to break through.
Leon acted in instinct. Suddenly, she felt the length of his arm along the width of her back, the other coming behind her knees to force her legs into a bent position. He hoisted her up into his arms soundlessly and hurried up the stairs, the noise of his own footsteps almost masked entirely by the loud shatter of glass as the zombie tumbled through the window.
Claire felt as though she would vomit again - not out of pain or terror, but as a result of embarrassment this time. Leon must have thought she was the most useless companion.
They were in the S.T.A.R.S. office in no time and he quickly sat her in the nearest chair before moving to close the door behind them. Claire inhaled deeply and held her breath as she heard the groaning of the zombie below, followed by the crunching of glass beneath the other creature's feet.
Leon stood there, back to the door as he leaned against it, pistol in hand. His eyes were locked with Claire's and they remained in their respective positions, unmoving, barely breathing, frozen in place.
The footsteps came again, growing softer as though moving away from their direction. Another door slammed in the distance and Leon let out a quiet, nervous laugh of relief as Claire relaxed into the chair she had been dropped into.
Leon moved away from the door to approach the desk beside her. Spinning her chair in his direction, she turned to see him rummaging through a medical bag that had been hung beside it. She could only assume it was Rebecca's and, though the medic herself was absent, she was grateful for the fact that something had managed to work in her favor that night.
She leaned back into the chair and allowed her head to loll back, eyes drifting closed as she took in a few short breaths. Though safety had not been an appropriate term to use in the scenario, it was the best descriptor she could think of to describe the way she felt in that moment-safe, if only for a moment.
When she opened her eyes once more, Leon had carefully arranged various items on the desk nearby. As he began to open packages, she lifted a hand to wave it in protest.
"I can do it." She insisted and he gave her a pointed look.
"Claire, please. Let me."
She was certain that the skin would melt off her face at this rate. Turning her attention towards the floor, she began to study an incredibly curious speck of lint that littered the carpet.
Claire let out a sharp hiss when he pressed a saturated pad of gauze to her forehead, the antiseptic cold and caustic. Leon gave her a sympathetic look and whispered an apology, leaning in close to gently blow at the stinging in an attempt to alleviate the burn.
She didn't think his technique was properly sterile, but she remained quiet. God, she could have crawled into a hole and died. Chris would have been so ashamed of her for being such a pussy.
Oh, shut up. He would be doing the same thing.
Swallowing thickly, she closed her eyes and tried to direct her attention to something other than the warm, gentle press of his fingertips and the careful, concerned look of concentration that he wore. Why couldn't she have been stuck in the zombie apocalypse with some gross old dude? Why did it have to be Leon, the police officer who really should have been a "cop" in a smutty calendar?
Not that she'd buy his calendar. No way.
"Claire."
God, did he know how to say anything else? Why did he have to say her name like that...all warm and stupid-like?
"Leon."
She batted her eyelashes and smiled up at him, having missed whatever he had said during her...totally appropriate musings.
"Lift up your shirt."
With her mouth agape, her mind struggled to replay what he had said. He hadn't said that, right? Her imagination was being awfully creative - smutty calendars, stripping…
Leon probably looked nice under his clothes.
"Claire."
She jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up at him.
"I'm not trying to be inappropriate, but I need to see. You don't have to take it off, just lift it up a little."
Oh fuck. He had said it after all.
It made sense, right? It made sense to let him see. She had been kicked by that asshole in the trench coat, not to mention the wreck she had been in. Basic first aid was probably part of his training. It was totally appropriate.
Totally.
Swallowing hard to drown the butterflies in her throat, she nodded and rose to stand on shaky legs. With the hem of her shirt firmly grasped between her fingers, she hesitated for a moment as she attempted to muster the courage to reveal herself to him.
Stop being a pussy.
She closed her eyes as she peeled back her shirt, terrified to witness the expression on his face.
"Jesus, Claire…"
She cracked open an eye to look down at him. He was bent at the waist, leaning forward to scrutinize the damage. A careful hand rose once more to ghost his fingertips along the side of her ribs and it caused her to gasp, skin tender beneath his touch.
"Your, uh...ribs are broken, I think."
Claire held in a laugh. She didn't need him to tell her that - the excruciating pain was proof enough.
She was unable to suppress the gasp that surfaced when she looked down at herself to see the massive stain of purple and red that had bloomed along her side and began to envelop the front of her chest like watercolors spilled on a canvas.
"Well, that's pretty gross."
Leon gave her an incredulous look and she shrugged, quickly pulling her shirt back into place.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, though it wasn't necessarily phrased as a question. Leon was pretty sure that she wasn't okay.
"Yep, totally." She lied. "It looks worse than it feels."
Claire was screaming internally as she walked in a small circle, hoping the action would add truth to her words. Leon watched her skeptically, but didn't push it. Instead, he turned back towards the desk to pour the contents of a bottle into his palm.
"Well, a little acetaminophen won't hurt." He offered it to her and she nearly snatched it from him, grimacing as she swallowed the pain reliever dry.
Desperate to shift the focus away from her, Claire cleared her throat quietly.
"So, um...did you meet any of the S.T.A.R.S.?" She asked, moving around the office to investigate what had been left behind.
"No…" His voice trailed off as though he were embarrassed, but he continued, "I know that they're really badass though, so I totally know where you get it from."
Claire broke into a fit of giggles. Badass? Her? Was he patronizing her or just trying to make her feel better?
"Thanks I guess."
It was all vaguely familiar. She had been there a few times to pester Chris, but it wasn't quite the way her memory had arranged it. She swore the desks were placed differently before. In fact...
Why were so many of them empty?
"Hey, um, did something happen to S.T.A.R.S?" She asked, taking a seat at Chris's desk.
"What do you mean?"
She frowned hard and turned to point at the photo on the wall, one that had both Alpha and Bravo team within the shot.
"There's, like...a lot of them, but most of these desks are empty."
She frowned and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest in a pensive gesture.
"I don't see any of Joseph's stuff. He was on Alpha team with my brother."
Leon had moved to stand behind the portrait and was shifting his gaze from it to the room.
"Yeah, you're right." He shrugged. "Maybe they have two offices now or something."
That made enough sense to her. Claire wrinkled her nose as she observed the mess atop Chris's desk and rolled forward in the chair to pull open the top drawer. She couldn't help but smirk upon discovering that it had been packed full of snacks.
She continued her snooping for a while until she came across a flash drive hidden in the bottom drawer. Curiously, she turned it over in her palm a few times before heading to the computer nearby.
"Are you snooping through your brother's things?" Leon asked, somewhat amused.
Claire rolled her eyes.
"He deserves it. Plus, it doesn't look like RPD property."
She was annoyed to find it was password protected. If she was a meathead like Chris, what password would she use?
Password? Nope.
Bacon? Nope.
Claire? Nah.
She looked back at his desk for inspiration and smirked.
Valentine? Bingo!
She clicked on the first file listed in the folder and rapidly scrolled through the document.
Arklay, Umbrella, T-Virus…
What the hell was all of this?
"Hey, Leon…?"
She paused her hurried scrolling to skim over a random page that detailed...encounters with zombies? It was a formal report from July authored by...Jill, Chris's partner.
What the fuck was going on?
Leon had come to stand beside her in order to read over her shoulder and she pointed at the page incriminatingly.
"Leon, what the hell is this? Jill is my brother's partner. How did she…?"
She continued to skim through the report, finding Chris's name printed beneath a list of survivors that followed a much lengthier list of deceased.
Chris knew? He knew about the zombies...and he didn't tell her? More than half of the S.T.A.R.S. were dead and he didn't say a word to her about it?
Claire felt rage bubble within her chest.
"I don't understand. Why wouldn't he tell me about this?" She spoke quickly, voice shaking. "I'm his fucking sister!"
Leon struggled to keep up, but he knew enough. It seemed as though Raccoon City wasn't the source of the outbreak after all.
"I don't know, Claire. Maybe he was sworn to secrecy. It's probably an open investigation."
She tore the drive from the computer angrily.
"Secrecy? We don't keep secrets from each other."
Leon kneeled down beside her and turned the chair to face him. Smiling, he placed a hand on her knee and squeezed it gently.
"I'm sure he'll explain once we find him, Claire. Don't worry about all that right now. We need to focus on getting out of here."
Despite the phantom knife that had been lodged into her back, Claire knew he was right, but she was still determined to beat the shit out of Chris when she found him.
"Alright." She surrendered, "Let's go."
Leon pointed towards the door, "You remember how to get back to the hallway, right?"
She nodded her head. It was the only path she was comfortably familiar with, really.
"I need you to go through the west office from the hallway. I unlocked the opposite door and cleaned the room out. It'll...take you to the lobby." He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain the rest of his instructions.
"This sounds crazy, I know, but...in the lobby...there's this statue of a woman." He cringed at himself. "I opened it. That's where the underground path is."
Claire stared hard in disbelief. Surely he was kidding. Was she in a god damn horror movie? Zombies, monsters, secret police reports, hidden passages…
"I need you to go there. The path below should take you to the parking garage. Wait for me there."
What?
"Wait for you?" She leaned forward in her chair, agitated, "Where are you going?"
Leon sighed.
"I'm going to distract that...thing so you can make it to the parking garage safely."
Claire shook her head vehemently, nearly whipping herself in the face with the end of her ponytail.
"Like hell you are, Leon! That thing could kill you!"
"Claire."
God, if he kept saying her name like that, she was going to lose her mind. She stared hard at him.
"I'm going to be fine. Please believe in me."
Claire refused to budge. There was absolutely no way in hell that she would agree to the plan.
"I thought I was going to be fine too, but look what happened!"
She threw her arms out as though she were on display, drawing attention to all her injuries.
"Remember what I told you, Leon." She spoke quietly, voice shaking as she tried to keep tears from surfacing, "I can't sleep at night if something happens to you either."
Leon groaned and ran a hand over his face, exasperated.
"Alright, Claire, but please listen to me if anything happens."
She held up a hand, little finger extended into the air.
"Pinky promise." She said lamely and Leon couldn't help but laugh.
After raiding the S.T.A.R.S. office for what little ammunition and medical supplies they could, Claire felt a smidge more at ease about traveling back through the precinct. Given the broken window near the stairs, they opted to continue down the hallway in the opposite direction, a path that Leon insisted would lead to the main lobby after passing through the library.
The library itself had an eerie aura to it. It was deafeningly silent, half of their view of the room obscured by the tall bookshelf that stood in the center of the room. Claire looked at Leon apprehensively and he nodded towards the shelf.
With their handguns raised, each of them approached the shelf, flanking it from either side. Claire could hear her heartbeat thrumming loudly in her ears as she approached. She knew her aim would be off due to the poor posture that her fractured ribs induced and she feared her ability to do much of anything because of it, but she was determined to ensure not only her safety, but Leon's as well.
On the opposite side of the shelf laid a uniformed officer, face down on the ground. Claire paused, staring hard for a while as she attempted to discern whether or not he was breathing. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she might have seen something. Maybe.
Leon approached cautiously, kneeling down beside the officer. With two fingers, he pressed against the side of the downed man's neck, groping for a pulse.
A loud shriek bellowed through the library as the former officer jolted upright, blood pouring down his now visible face as he gripped Leon's shoulders. It gnashed its teeth, spraying him with a fine mist of saliva and blood as Leon held his hands braced against its face in order to maintain distance between himself and it.
Fuck. They were fucked no matter what. She could already hear the loud stomping in the distance as their stalker barreled down the hallway, presumably in their direction. With their position compromised, the need for stealth had flown out the window.
Claire moved to stand beside them and held her gun a foot from the zombie's head, too afraid she'd miss and hit Leon from a distance. With her eyes clenched shut, she squeezed the trigger, and the force with which the bullet was expelled from the chamber caught her by surprise.
She hadn't missed, gratefully. The monster fell over as abruptly as he had risen, head split open from the execution shot.
Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, the library door swung open, colliding loudly against the wall as the massive hulk of a man ducked in the doorway. It began to storm towards them, arms heavily swinging at its sides.
"Claire, run!" Leon shouted, unloading into the monster's chest.
Claire watched with horror as it shifted its attention towards Leon, reeling back an arm to prepare for a punch.
"Claire! Go! I'll catch up with you!"
Adrenaline was a powerful hormone. In that moment, Claire found herself unable to think. Though she wanted dearly to formulate an alternative plan in order to avoid leaving Leon behind, her mind was fuzzy, unable to focus on anything but his order as it ran through her head like a mantra - run, run, run, run!
And run she did - through the door the monster had busted through, down the staircase and past an errant zombie that hobbled about the statue's vicinity. She bolted through the small, strangely placed office and into the nearby elevator, collapsing onto the floor once the door had closed.
Clutching her side, Claire broke into hysterics. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, each heaving sob causing pain to jolt through her chest. She hated herself for coming to Raccoon City, but she hated herself even more for not being of any use.
Why didn't Chris just tell her? She swore she would have believed him.
She remained in the safety of the elevator for a while, trembling as her sobbing tapered off. Claire buried her face in her knees, hugging her legs to her chest as she tried to pep talk herself into continuing.
Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help either of you! Stop. Being. A. Pussy.
Using the wall of the elevator for support, she rose from the floor and wiped the dampness on her cheeks away with the back of her wrist. Leon asked her to meet him in the parking garage and that was exactly what she would do, injuries be damned.
There was no sign of life-or undead life-down below, something that she was grateful for. The passageway smelled old, like dust and mildew, but it was a welcome change from the rusty scent of blood that had become commonplace within the precinct.
She found herself eventually standing at the base of a ladder, staring up at a manhole cover from overhead. Wincing, she ascended the ladder, each upward movement of her arm causing muscle in her injured side to stretch painfully. She hissed and wrinkled her nose, steadying herself on one of the upper rungs as best she could as she heaved the metal cover from out of place with a grunt.
It clamored onto the pavement nearby as she dropped it to the side, causing her to wince. Peeking her head through the opening precariously, she found that she had made it to the parking garage.
The empty parking garage, thankfully.
Pulling herself from the hole proved to be another challenge in itself. Once she made it above ground, she collapsed onto the pavement, hugging her side as she drew her knees up to her chest. The medication had taken the edge off, certainly, but it didn't eliminate her discomfort. She cursed under her breath and waited for the ache to subside before rising to her feet.
She made her way towards the shutter that closed off the exit to the garage and eyed it suspiciously. The panel nearby requested a key card for exit, but surely she and Leon could lift it together…
"Hello?"
Claire spun around at the sound of the familiar voice, reaching behind to finger the handgun tucked in the back of her jeans. A portly, grey-haired man stood on the opposite end of the garage and was slowly approaching her.
"Hi, do you know how to get out of here?"
She cut to the chase as she gestured towards the shutter and the man narrowed his eyes as he came in closer to her.
"Are you...Claire Redfield?" He asked, leaving her question unacknowledged.
Claire gave him a strange look. How the hell could he have known that? Her brother wasn't exactly a social butterfly, so she sincerely doubted that he was a friend.
"Maybe." She kept her hand on the gun. "Who are you?"
He reached for the badge pinned to the front of his vest and held it up on display.
"Brian Irons, Chief of Police."
Oh, hallelujah. Surely the fucking Chief of Police could get into contact with Chris.
"I'm trying to find Chris, but he doesn't seem to be here." She swallowed hard, hand returning to her side.
The older man's face lit up and he smiled warmly.
"He's at the Raccoon Orphanage, dear. I can take you there."
Claire froze.
Kevin hadn't said anything about the orphanage. Why the hell would Chris be at an orphanage?
"I…"
She trusted Kevin. Why would the Chief of Police lie? Maybe he was just mistaken.
She gave him a quizzical look.
"I...I'm waiting on a friend to meet me here. Once we regroup, we can head that way." She lied. "He's one of the officers here, so he knows the route."
The man's demeanor changed. Suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed, jaw setting into a hard expression. His face grew red and Claire slowly reached for her gun once more.
Chief Irons drew his own weapon quickly and pointed it directly at her face.
"I'd hate to fuck up your pretty face anymore than it already is." He nodded towards the ground, finger moving to curl around the trigger.
"Drop whatever weapon it is that you're hiding and get on your knees."
She began to panic. Her heart raced so quickly that she became lightheaded.
"I...I think there's a misunderstanding here, sir."
He pulled back the hammer of his gun with an audible click.
"Did I fucking stutter, sweetheart?"
Claire hardly heard the clatter of her gun falling to the pavement as she obeyed, sinking to her knees with her hands in the air. Irons grinned, handgun still trained on her as he approached.
"Such a pretty girl." He murmured against the shell of her outer ear as he forcefully bent her arms behind her back. "Why'd you have to go and fuck up your face?"
She whimpered out of both pain and fear. Was this guy really Chief of fucking Police?
"Don't worry, though." His breath was foul and stale and she suppressed the urge to gag. "I'll fix it."
Oh fuck.
She attempted to rise to escape, but he shoved her hard, causing her to fall sideways against the pavement. Claire let out a howl of pain as she felt the side of her face begin to sting, delicate flesh likely broken from the rough surface upon which she fell.
"Definitely a Redfield." He muttered, pulling a wad of cloth from his pocket. "Always a pain in my fucking ass."
The last thing she saw was the fuck looming over her, sweat pouring down his face as he shoved the rag in her mouth and her world faded to black.
... :')
Thanks for all the favorites, comments, and PMs. I'm really excited about this one. A huge hug goes out to Xaori as always for validating my terrible decisions and empowering me to bully my characters and to Heero Strife for being so sweet and supportive of everything I do.
