A/n: Sorry the chapter ended up so short, but Leon was a nightmare to write and now that break at school is over my time got a lot shorter. So don't expect these rapid updates to keep up. Oh, and say hello to my lovely beta: Brushstrokefox.

Ch 4- No Fear

Claire shivered as she hugged herself in front of the dryer. The Red Queen had been nice enough to find her a robe, but the quest for other clothes turned up nothing unless she wanted to wear something of Wesker's. She had refused. She was mad at him for keeping people locked up down there. She could just picture some poor illegal aliens that had gotten too close to the house or that some coyote had sold. She didn't want to touch anything that had to do with the blonde tyrant at the moment. If it wasn't for the fact that she was so freaked out about her own blood she would've been out the door, government or no government. She could always flee to Mexico, learn Spanish and spend the rest of her days teaching underserved children. She'd just have to be overly careful with paper-cuts and anything else that might break her skin. She closed her eyes and sighed. It was a nice fantasy. She had already stopped by the bathroom to look at her eyes. They had stopped glowing, but were now like liquid quicksilver. They reflected light and if it wasn't for the fact that they represented what the virus was doing to her body, she would've found them pretty. There was a hum and Claire opened her eyes to see the Red Queen seeming to sit on the dryer. She was looking down at her hands in perfect imitation of a nervous child.

"I want to apologize for Mr. Wesker's behavior," she said, and the brunette felt her eyebrows reach for her hairline. She doubted that Wesker had asked the computer to come apologize for him considering that he likely felt that he was in the right. "You have to understand, Claire," the computer looked up at her, "his level of interaction with others has been very limited for a long time. It got worse with the death of Doctor Birkin and Sherry going away to school." And this, Claire decided as the buzzer went off on the dryer and the Red Queen relocated herself so she was standing next to it, was one of the things she would never have expected. She was happy to hear, however, that Sherry was away at school somewhere, and not locked in a dungeon somewhere.

"You're making excuses for him," she said as she began pulling her delightfully warm clothes out of the dryer to put them on. "He chose to spend his life in a lab somewhere instead of out in the world. He chose to make his only interactions with people those of death and manipulation." There was a pause and Claire wondered if computers required time to think. Maybe it was a behavioral thing that had been programed in? The developer seemed to have spent a remarkable amount of time making sure that you thought of the computer as a little girl first and a computer second.

"You know so very little about him," the computer said shaking her head, and making her virtual hair move. "If that were true, why hasn't he locked you in one of the cells downstairs?" Claire frowned as she put her feet into her boots. She had been asking herself the same question. The Wesker she had thought that she knew would've put her in there if not in the beginning, then certainly after the incident downstairs. Hell, he could've knocked her out, and stuck her in one of those cyrostatis tubes. She finger combed her hair as she thought. What was the computer trying to tell her, besides the fact that Wesker operated like an ever changing rubik's cube? The brunette let out a sigh and headed towards the lab.

Wesker sat behind the metal desk in the room he used as an office, a file spread before him. It held the mish-mash of number and figures that compromised most of the results from Claire's blood work. There were even black and white pictures of her cellular structure paper-clipped in. But he didn't see any of it. He had memorized the contents of the file as the results had come in, even the notes he has put in neat block writing in the margins. No, what had his mind so far away as he waited was another image-the one of a young woman fighting without hesitation. The quiet was broken by the sound of papers wind-milling through the air. He let out a sigh of frustration as he moved to pick the papers up. He had known that Claire was strong before that fight. He had been aware that she was decent looking before she had seen fit to try to send him flying through a steel door. But now, when he thought of her it wasn't test results, figures and hypothesis that came to mind. No, it was her breathing hard, staring at him in horror, soaked to the bone.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and had the Red Queen play back the fight and he had only been mildly surprised to find that the two of them had been moving at speeds faster than the computer's camera could capture. He was certain that she had not been able to do that before the fight. Wesker used his thumbs to rub his temples as he put the papers back on the desk. He doubted her rate of infection could be increasing. The blood work had shown that almost all her cells showed clear infection markers. Which led him to the question of why she didn't display other signs of infection? They could both pass for human if it wasn't for the eyes and even then she was closer to human in appearance. He frowned deeply as an idea occurred to him. The virus had changed both of them on a cellular level. He hadn't just been talking when he said that he was no longer human. What if the virus was…?

The smell of cinnamon and sugar invaded his nose cutting his thought process short. He looked up to see Claire leaning against the doorframe and he felt a weird sense of déjà vu. He motioned for her to take the seat across the desk from him, noting the loss of the elastic holding her hair up. She refused to look at him as she sat and he found it amusing. He could tell from the tension in her body that she was likely trying to keep her temper in check. He leaned back into his seat and hoped she'd be able to understand what he was going to tell her. Chris, for all that he was a good soldier, was not the brightest person on the planet. Unless it had to do with weaponry or big explosions, it went in one ear and out the other. From what he had seen, Claire was just as impulsive as her brother if significantly smarter.

"Miss Redfield," Wesker began only to cut off as her eyes snapped up to him.

"Could you please not call me that? It makes me want to look around for whoever would be dumb enough to marry Chris," she said with a sigh. He raised an eyebrow at her words. Could they possibly have the same opinion of her brother? Not likely.

"As you wish, dear heart," Wesker said watching her mouth twist in distaste. She'd get over it. "I have all your tests back with the exception of your genome mapping. Nine of every ten cells in your body are positive for infection. But," he cut over whatever she was going to say. The look on her face was pure horror. "It's not T-Veronica. It may have been in the beginning, but it has since mutated beyond that. This is likely due to the 'antidote' you took. It was enough to offset the symptoms, but not enough to purge the virus from your system. You likely created anti-bodies which forced the virus to go underground, so to speak. It mutated into such a form that it could assimilate into your cells without displaying any of the markers your white blood cells looked for in infected cells. Unfortunately, this means that it encoded itself into your DNA. This is the reason that you didn't mutate like the normal infected. It didn't overwhelm and reconstruct your DNA so much as it seems to have added itself to your DNA. As for how much of itself it added and what that addition will do to you other than the obvious, we have to wait for the genome mapping to finish. The good news is that you aren't contagious in the normal sense of the word. One would have to dilute the virus out of your DNA in order to infect someone else. It's actually not even a true virus any longer." Claire blinked as her mind tried to absorb what she had just been told. It sounded pretty close to what she had overheard while held by the government. But Wesker was taking it one step further.

"So you're saying that this is permanent? That there is no way to cure this?" Claire asked slowly. He put his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together so that he could put his chin on them. She was essentially everything that Wesker and Birkin had been working so hard towards. She was displaying perfect acceptance of the T-virus and all its gifts. Yet, instead of being overjoyed or marveling at her new powers, she wanted to go back to the way she was-pathetic and mortal. It made no sense to him.

"Would that be such a bad thing, Claire?" he asked softly looking at her over the top of his sunglasses. "You've made it your life's goal to help other people and to put an end to viral weaponry. Now you can go directly into the hot zones without worrying about petty little things like dying." Wesker watched as she narrowed her eyes thinking about what he was saying before shaking her head.

"I'm not you, Wesker," she said at length. "I'm not even my brother. I'm not meant to clean up the infection itself. I'm supposed to help people put their lives back together, supposed to prevent the use of viral weaponry to begin with. I don't want this." Claire did her best to look in the blonde's eyes as she spoke, willing him to understand her. "I chose a different path on purpose. If I have to live with this, I will. But I need to know, Wesker, is there a way to reverse this?" Wesker leaned back in his chair. He knew better than to offer her false hope, but at the same time she was so sincere. He had a feeling that he would never understand her.

"I don't know," he told her with a sigh. "The chances of it being remotely possible are small enough to be insignificant. I can't be sure of anything, however, until I finish with the gene mapping. It should tell me precisely where the virus mixed with your DNA." Claire nodded at his words, her mouth a thin line.

"If you can cure me, will you?" she asked pleased at how her voice just barely trembled. This had been a thought lingering in the back of her mind. Even if Wesker had the ability to fix her, would he? She was just a sample to him-an experiment he had not started but one that he was studying. She could understand him finding a cure just to say he had one, but having him actually cure her with it was another matter. He could take all the samples he needed, produce a cure and just leave her the way she was. Or worse yet, he could give her to the government. Wesker watched her fidget slightly as she waited for an answer, his own mind turning the idea around in his mind. The entire idea of wanting to go back to being without everything the virus gave him was so utterly foreign he had trouble grasping it. But it wasn't like it would matter either way. He'd have to kill her eventually if she stayed the way she was now-she would be a challenge to his own power. If he could find a cure, she would die when his plans came to fruition anyway.

"It's your life, dear heart," he said flatly. "If it's within my power to return you to your former self and you wish for me to do so, I will. You have my word." Claire had no way to explain the reason that all the tension melted out of her body at those words, just as she had no way to explain how his scent made her calm. She knew that he would likely do everything he could to wiggle out from what he had just said, but it made her feel better all the same.

Leon sat in the cramped living room of Chris' apartment and wished the other man had taken up his offer of using his place instead. The condo Leon rented would've comfortably fit the five of them without having to make Barry lean on the doorframe to the hallway. As it was, he was standing next to the TV with Jill and Carlos taking up the love chair and Chris pacing. Leon watched through his bangs as Chris relayed the reason he had called the Raccoon City Survivors Reunion. The information had him frowning. He smelled cover up, but more than that he was concerned for Claire. The two of them had been dancing around each other for years. But between their jobs their own inability to make a real effort, nothing had happened. And now, Chris was saying that something had happened to her.

"What do you need us to do?" Leon asked almost afraid to meet the other man's eyes. Chris had practically given his blessing to the two of them, and Leon knew the urge to protect that he felt was nothing compared to that of Claire's brother.

"We need information," it was Jill who answered standing up and moving so that she could put her hand on Chris' shoulder. "Chris and I will check with TerraSave, and Barry has access to all the records at the BSAA. Carlos, you can search the grayer areas. You've got your contacts in the government itself, right Leon?" He nodded as he noticed how lost Chris looked. There was determination there too and he was reminded of another Redfield who had worn that look. They'd get Claire back for sure.

Captain Mallory's heels clicked on the polished marble of the Capitol Building. The place was practically empty this time of night, which was why she had been summoned to see Senator Ron Davis now. The man was one of the few senators who knew the whole story behind the Raccoon City incident and was one of the strongest supporters of Project Valkyrie. He was most displeased with how things were progressing in the search for Brunhild, and he had demanded she give him an update in person. Her fingers just about crushed the file she held as she thought of the rotund, disgusting man who almost single handedly held the purse strings on her project. She paused and knocked politely plastering a fake smile on her face. The door was open to reveal a man built like a linebacker who had allowed his body to long go to fat. His hair was graying and he wore a black suit, the jacket discarded. He looked both ways in the hallway before motioning her to come in.

"Why is he here?" Mallory snapped as she walked in and found herself looking at a tall, slender Englishman. His hair was silver and he wore thin framed glasses. His suit was dark gray and he was sitting just in front of the desk, a glass of what she knew was scotch in one hand.

"Insurance," the senator said as he closed the door behind her. "You're not the only avenue we have for this kind of research, Mallory. Dr. Downing is one of the top researchers for WilPharma, but I guess from your reaction you already know that." Mallory looked down her nose at the man before taking a seat next to him in front of the desk.

"The insurance is unneeded, Senator Davis," Mallory told him, pointedly ignoring the other man. "It is only a matter of time before Brunhild is back in our hands."

"Oh?" Downing said tilting his head and forcing her to acknowledge his presence. "Have you managed to locate the ever allusive Albert Wesker, then?" Mallory narrowed her eyes at him in a glare.

"No," she said tersely. She hadn't heard anything from HUNK, but he had said not to expect anything until he got the asked for results.

"Then I fail to see how you plan on getting the test subject back," the Senator said leaning back in his chair. The navy officer smiled wickedly.

"You overestimate this man's ability to hide himself, especially when we have someone who knows him intimately," Mallory said sliding the file folder across the desk. The senator opened it and frowned.

"This is a police file from Raccoon City. What does this Chris…," Mallory jumped in to cut off Davis. She would not put it past Downing to try something if he knew the names of all the players.

"Baldur," she put emphasis on the name, "is one of only four people to survive the twisted games Wesker played in a mansion outside the city. He worked with the man for close to two years and from his recent activity, we can determine that he is looking for the man. We have put him on leave due to the fact that he is related to Brunhild. Even now we are making sure the information we want is being funneled to him." Mallory had worked hard to make sure that everything looked like Wesker had taken Claire from the beginning. It would enrage her brother and, if the report she had managed to get her hands on about the siblings was anything to go by, he would stop at nothing to find Wesker. Once he found the man and eliminated him, the military could come along behind him and snatch up his sister. Two birds with one stone. It was brilliant.

"You better hope this works, Capt. Mallory," Senator Davis said closing the file and sliding it back across the desk to her. Mallory smiled viciously.

"It will Senator. It will."

Claire was still bored and to make matters worse, she now had more thoughts in her head than she could reasonably deal with. Sitting on the couch in the living room, one leg propped up so she could rest her head on it, she keep thinking over her memories of Chris and her other friends. Would she ever be able to see thing again? Would they be able to look at her without seeing a monster? Because there was no way she could hide it now. She had gone to check her eyes again, and they were silver with just hints of the blue-green they had held originally. She was half convinced that the color she saw was just them reflecting the color of the bathroom walls. She hugged her leg and sighed doing her best to keep the tears that were threatening at bay. She knew that Wesker had cameras everywhere, and she would not cry while there was a chance he could see. But it was so hard when she felt so alone, hell, she hadn't even spent one day in this place and it felt like years. The doorbell rang and her head whipped up. Who would come knocking here?

"Will you please get the door?" the Red Queen asked not bothering to materialize as she was keeping track of something going on elsewhere. "It seems the groceries have arrived." Claire blinked and stood up. She had completely forgotten that they had ordered groceries. She ran to her room and grabbed her sunglasses. They last thing she wanted was to scare off whoever was at the door with her freaky eyes.

"Just a minute," she called running down the hallway completely unaware of just how fast she was moving until she tried to stop. She barely missed crashing into the front door. She hadn't had the ability to move that fast before. She was going to have to work on keeping herself at acceptable speeds. Claire planted a smile on her face as she opened the door.

"Finally," the woman on the other side of the door said putting one of the brown paper bags in her arms before she had a chance to react. "I was worried no one was coming, chica." Her voice was loud and thick with a Spanish accent as she bent to pick up another bag. The woman was short with wildly curling black hair and dark skin. She looked like a younger Selma Hayek even if she was only wearing a pair of tattered jean shorts and a pink tank-top. "You going to let me in or what?" She asked and Claire felt her cheeks color as she moved into the house. The woman followed her into the kitchen and they put their bags on the counter. "You living here by yourself, chica? I gotta tell you that there are some nasty rumors about this place," the woman said as she began to help her put the groceries away.

"Really?" Claire asked nervously as she shoved the milk into the refrigerator.

"Yeah," she said putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "The people in town say this place is what gave birth to la Chupacubra. They claim that a few years ago something came out of this place and killed a whole bunch of vacas. Spooked the vaqueros something awful," Claire barely understood what she was saying with the odd mix of Spanish in her words. She turned from putting away some spices to look at Claire, who was standing frozen. What could she really say? The chances are it was likely true.

"Do you believe that?" she finally settled for asking as she worked through the cold groceries.

"Nah, chica," she said waving her hand in dismissal. "I think it's just something the coyotes invented to scare the poor suckers they take across the border." She finished putting the groceries away and smiled at Claire. "Do you have a name? Maybe we could hang out if you swing by town. I run the tienda." Claire bit her lip as she closed the fridge. She was desperate for a friend at the moment, but she had a feeling Wesker was not going to be happy with her. Well, screw Wesker. He was still on her dog list after this morning.

"It's Claire," she offered with a smile and held out her hand. The woman took it and smiled back. "I'm Rosa," she rolled the r as she said the name and Claire hoped that she wasn't expecting her to be able to do that. Her high school Spanish had been terrible. She let Claire's hand go and dug into one of the pockets on her shorts before producing a small card. "That's my number if you ever want to hang out, chica. But I need to go. Gotta feed the niños." Claire nodded as she took the card wondering how a woman so young could have more than one kid. Her eyes flicked to her hand, and she noted the lack of a ring. It wasn't her place to judge, though.

"I'll be sure to give you a call," the brunette said as Rosa walked out of the house to get into a beat-up old ford.

Wesker decided as he got off the phone with Ada that HUNK and his minions had stewed enough. Ada had just informed him that the military was on the move. He wouldn't be surprised if every police station, police officer, and two bit bounty hunter had pictures of the two of them. The numbers Ada had given him were enough that he was going to have to start watching for a leak in the company. They hadn't mentioned him in the warrant, just her. He knew why. The company was protecting him, and if people got a whiff of just who they were dealing with, no one would take the job. Wesker had a reputation in the underworld. He slid into the infirmary, the same room he had drawn Claire's blood in earlier in the day. He pulled out a syringe and filled it with a semi-clear yellow liquid. He stuck it in his coat and began walking towards the elevator.

"Red Queen," there was a chime of acknowledgement as he put his pass-code into the keypad next to the elevator. "What is Miss Redfield doing?" The elevator opened and he stepped inside hitting the button that would take him to the cell level.

"She is putting the groceries away with the aid of the local store owner," the computer told him. Wesker ran through his memory of the people who lived in the little town before he came across the attractive woman. She had been an agent for Umbrella selling unsuspecting illegals to them for research. Her test subjects had always been among the best that they purchased, though most of that had ended now that Umbrella was on its last legs. It was a good thing he had signed on with a different company when he did.

"Good," Wesker said and walked out of the elevator, lifting one lip in disgust as the mess the two of them had made of the second set of cells. "Make sure she stays busy." He typed his code into the door on the right and entered the cell area. It looked like the labs upstairs, all stark white and sterile. The doors were metal without handles or visible locks. The wall of the cells that faced the hallway was a one-sided mirror. He stood in front of the cell holding the man who was simply known as HUNK. He had taken the helmet off revealing a rough sort of handsome face with a light scar across his nose. He was sitting next to the wall facing the mirror cleaning his nails with a hunting knife. The blonde put his hand against the panel next to the door, and it opened just long enough for him to step inside. The man didn't bother to look up at him.

"I wondered how long it would take before you came to visit," he said in a voice harsh likely from so many attempts to strangle him. The knife disappeared in his hands as he looked up at Wesker, who stood with his hands behind his back. He looked into eyes the color of liquid chocolate and found no fear there. He found very little there that he was used to. There was no nervousness, no fear, not even simple curiosity. It was like he was some kind of blank slate.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Death?" Wesker asked the man who was watching him from his position on the floor. He leaned his head against the wall behind him.

"You know the answer to that. She's upstairs more than likely scared out of her mind by this whole thing. How did you ever get her to come with you?" he smirked as he noticed the tension in the tyrant's body. So he was wondering that question himself, interesting.

"Who are you working for?" Wesker asked moving towards him so that he was within reach. HUNK gave a little chuckle and smirked at him.

"I never kiss and tell," the man said, and the blonde moved so that he had Hunk by the neck in the air. But he didn't struggle. He hung limply from the other man's hand the smirk on his lips growing to a full blown smile. Wesker frowned as he wondered if the other man was mad. It would explain a lot. The reason that he took these suicidal missions was because he wanted to die. Well, there were a lot worse things than death. Wesker tossed the man at the wall, and he slid down it with a sick thump. But he was already sitting up as the blonde pulled the needle out of his pocket. He smiled cruelly as he watched HUNK's eyes glue to the piece of medical equipment.

"You may be willing to die, Agent HUNK," he said pushing the plunger lightly to make sure there was no air in the needle, "But there are much worse fates than simple death, hmmm? Tell me who you work for, and I may just grant you the death you crave." To his surprise the former Umbrella agent started to laugh.

"You want to know who I work for, Wesker?" he said standing and using the wall as support. He wasn't badly hurt, but it was clear that he was in pain. "I work for the highest bidder and I always get the job done. I doubt a little thing like infection would stop me. I survived Birkin after all." There were questions Wesker had about that. He had seen the results of the G-virus, and knew that the infected never stopped until their prey was confirmed dead.

"Then, I guess that will make me the highest bidder," Wesker said as he blurred his movement to sink the contents of the syringe into the side of the man's neck. HUNK reached up and yanked the spent syringe from his neck. "That's not a virus, Mr. Never Die," he watched as the man's body seemed to turn to jelly, and he pitched over face first. "It's a rather nasty poison. It won't kill you, just leave you paralyzed and still able to feel everything. I would strongly suggest you give me a name before the effect becomes permanent." There was more laughter from the man on the floor as Wesker squatted.

"Mallory," he said between his laughter. "Alica Mallory."

Reviews:

Shadownip: This chapter ended up shorter than the others for some reason. –hand behind head nervously- I'm glad no one seems to find anything wrong with Wesker. I always have to beat his muse to get anything out of it.

Ceville: I'm glad you like the differences in their viruses, though they were different to start with. T-Veronica was a different strain of T and as such would have different results. I actually played with the idea of her having Alexia's flaming blood. But decided that would be too much. I loved the Red Queen in the movies and felt that she needed to some play with Wesker. I love how Claire thinks she's a harmless computer.

Kymyin: Next chapter-

Project X: -dances- Am I still achieving greatness? And here's the next bit.

Weskerism1: That's it. The story's over. Mission has been achieved. I actually got someone to want to go back and play the games? Best compliment ever.

Miry5: Sorry the chapter ended up so short. This chapter just did not want to cooperate. Leon made me want to pull my hair out.

JennyT: You sound so surprised by how good it was. And I am honored that you think this is an original take on the pairing.

Spark of insanity: Hey, I read your stuff! Reviews are wonderful inspiration, though I've gotten enough lately not to have to put a warning on the top. Thanks so much for fav'ing and such though.

Tinkies: I have way too much time on my hands to work on this, though it will be going down now that school is back in session. So it will be slower. My beta will likely whip me into it though. And Wesker and Claire going from fighting to normal totally normal in my head. You spend so long fighting things eventually it's not that big a deal to fight anymore. The fluffiness? What is this fluffiness? –evil grin- Thank for the fav.