Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Capcom, Nintendo or anything else.

Please Read and Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Capcom, Nintendo or anything else.

Please Read and Review!


Everywhere to run suddenly turned into nowhere as the endless thicket transformed into a wall of rock just as Steve's furtive hope for escape morphed into despair. Cornered in the jungle, Steve was more mouse to the smaller Wesker in the distance. Even as mutant, Steve still found himself bracing for impact as the black gloved fist went across his face with enough force to bring the green giant backwards into the hard surface. Steve's crimson eyes squeezed shut as he slid down the rocky face. His enormous body was throbbing, but he never forgot the imminent danger.

He didn't look up to avoid making eye contact with at the man in sunglasses, he cringed at the sound of a low growl like barbed silk.

"Have you forgotten Steve? Every time you run, I'll find you. " Wesker said, the needle clutched in his fist. "Claire can't save you. Even if she comes, you'll kill her for sure."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Steve backed away until the rock hugged his back, vision blurred with the glint of tears of frustration, anger, hatred, and most of all: Fear. Scared of what was going to happen, what he was going to be made to do.

He emitted a low guttural growl, he made up his mind to fight.

After all, no one else was coming to save him. His three claws tightened, but around another hand instead of his huge reptilian hand. As the jungle began to collapse into spots of darkness, he realized that the hand in his was the person who had come back to save him.

Steve woke with a yelp, drenched in sweat, heart pounding and forgetting where he was. He ran a hand through his brown hair, then had the sudden urge to inspect it.

Normal sized, five fingers on each hand,and non reptilian.

This was going to take some getting used to. He took in a deep breath and glanced over. Claire was still asleep on the armrest, her head in her one elbow. A small smile of relief came to Steve, that his nightmare hadn't woken her up too.

With their hands still intertwined, Claire had kept her promise the previous night. And for that, he was eternally grateful.

Claire suddenly began to stir, she peered from over the arm at Steve and sleepily murmured. "Good Morning, Steve."

"Mornin' Claire." He smiled, although somewhat absentmindedly.

"What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost." Claire frowned.

"It's nothing." Steve didn't meet her eyes. He didn't want to talk about it.

"C'mon-" Claire said.

"Really, it's nothing!" He said. Although with a little more force than he intended, which was sure to give way to concern from the younger Redfield. He sighed, the lingering fear in his voice betrayed him. There was the warped air of apprehension, as he flinched internally. He was waiting for her to say something.

This time she let him go instead of pressing. "I'm going to make some breakfast." She got up from the chair next to the couch.

"Let me, actually." He said, taking his time rising from the couch.

"Are you sure?" Claire said, eyeing the elastic wrap around his sprained ankle.

"Yeah, it's the least I can do." He insisted.

"Alright, I'll go put on some music." In her room, a heavenly smell wafted from the kitchen.

"Bon Appetit" Steve did a little bow, his best imitation of a gourmet chef setting pancakes on the table and pulling up a chair across from Claire. He watched her eyes light up as she tried them.

"These is really good!"Claire eagerly took another spoonful. "Thanks!"

"Aw, it's nothin'!" He blushed. And with soft guitar in the background, they enjoyed the quiet film of morning.

Claire heard a low beeping from another room, and fumbled out of the chair. "Damn it! I thought I had enough time. "

It was later than she thought.

"Where are you-?" Claire cut him off when she tossed him a pair of jeans and a sleek black biker jacket had "Ride or Die" imprinted on the back in a bold font, and fit snugly against him.

"C'mon," She beckoned. "I'll explain on the way there."

Steve barely positioned himself on the back of the motorcycle before it roared out if the alleyway whirring into the gray sky city streets.

Sherry Birkin, at only 12, had lost her parents to bioterrorism much like Steve, so in some ways she was somewhat of a kindred spirit to him.

A government lab rat of the G Virus, one of her only visitors was Claire Redfield. The Redfields had spared him that fate by bringing him back to the apartment . He was grateful for being freed, from prison, from Antarctica and from the jungle.

Freedom.

The first taste of carefree air on the back of Claire's motorcycle was something close to a spiritual experience. It made him think of, how in the movies, the clouds part after a storm and the sunbeams shine through. He took it all in, taking a mental snapshot with his whole body.

The wild untamed roar of the motorcycle as it tore across the pavement, wind through his hair, and the stinging biting cold on his cheeks and the way the air stuck in his throat.

It froze him in pure bliss. He dare not touch the thought that anyone take this away from him again.

The motorcycle pulled up to a drab looking office building, that spoke to Steve as somewhere you would only come to work.

Nonetheless, a warm smile appeared on Claire's face. "Here we are."

The building led to a huge open lobby and was overwhelming ,with so many professionally dressed people buzzing about. Steve felt instantly out of place here, Claire took hold his sleeve and dragged him out of his awe before a metal detector and some men in black suits.

There was another man among the black suits, with light brown hair and a beard. On his shiny silver suit Steve caught a nametag that read "Derek C. Simmons".

Steve hadn't the time to read anything else, but could tell that he didn't want to know anything else by the sort of slimy vibes he gave off when he greeted Claire. "Ms. Redfield."

Claire seemed to feel that too and regarded him with the same caution. "Mr. Simmons. This is my friend, Steve."

While she could feel Steve was kind of nervous, she had done this a million times. They got visitor tags and one of the men along with Simmons led them down one of the numerous hallways and onto an elevator.

They descended into the bowels of the building, and Steve wasn't sure how long it would be until they reached their destination. The elevator stopped with a low rumble, and opened up to a familiar scene that made the both of them cringe internally. It was a lab all coated in white.

It gave Steve some bad deja vu. The two were guided down an LED lit hallway to a cold lonely metal door. Their guide opened the door with a special code, as if some dangerous criminal was on the other side of the door.

When it opened it revealed a little girl whose only crime was getting involved at all. Sherry attached herself to Claire and hugged her with as much strength as her small body could hold.

"I missed you so much!" She bawled.

"I missed you too, Sherry." Claire put a hand on her head, and slightly guided her back into the room away from Simmons' calculating eye.

The room was too cramped for three people, and felt distinctly like a hospital room. It was mostly barren aside from some hung up drawings around the place. There was a photograph of Sherry and Claire on the bedside table.

Sherry looked up at Steve who she hadn't even noticed in the room.

Claire pulled back from the long embrace and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "This is Steve. Steve, this is Sherry."

"Is he your boyfriend?" She said with an almost accusing inflection.

Claire and Steve looked at each other taken aback, but not enough for Sherry to notice. They tried their hardest to break eye contact.

Claire took longer than she needed to answer. "Oh uh.. no. We met on Rockfort."

"Oh!" Sherry said with sudden recollection. "That Steve? I thought you said he died."

"I can explain, I have another adventure to tell you about."

And as Claire began to explain this tale of danger and excitement, Sherry's face lit up in awe as if she were listening to the unbelievable feats of a superhero. As soon as she was done with her story, Claire heard a slight knock at the door. It was Simmons. While Sherry looked absolutely enchanted by this tale of bravery, she turned to Steve.

"She really helped you turn back to normal! Wow." She said eyes sparkling. " That's like that movie,"

Claire laughed. She said something in a sarcastic tone.

"Yeah." Steve didn't snark back. He was secretly a little ashamed about the whole ordeal but had something else on his mind entirely. Wesker, and that dream, from last night. Every time you run, I'll find you. Claire can't save you.

Simmons called Claire's attention after the story was done and they were engaged in commonly named "adult talk".

With the two of them alone in the room, Steve asked something he shouldn't have, but was pressing on his mind. "Don't you think, with all these dangerous missions… she might not come back one of these days?" The dream and his past experience dripping doubt onto his own words, wondering aloud again.

"No! She always comes back!" Sherry protested loudly. There was part anger and a little bit of fear., "She can do anything, because she's stronger than Superman!" and after the girl began to detail more of Claire's fantastic feats from Sherry in their adventures in Raccoon City.

"Hell yeah! She can do anything." Steve smiled, realizing his mistake. He needed to have more faith in his friend.

And like that, they started taking turns naming impossible feats Claire would be able to accomplish, from lifting cars to defeating zombie aliens by flying into space.

Sherry was just glad that she had gotten someone else to believe in her hero.

Simmons finally let Claire go, but just like that, visiting hours were over. Sherry said goodbye to them and told her new friend to come back and visit soon.

Meanwhile, miles away, shaky jello hands jammed another quarter into the payphone hoping that he could just somehow reach Claire before she got home. What could happen to her if she didn't know…

Jill held her stern exterior, but Chris could sense ripples of panic hidden in her. Chris growled desperately into the receiver. "Claire, c'mon. Pick up! Pick up!" Jill let go of a breath. "Chris, I'm sure she'll be okay. You saw her out in the field. You just have to trust her."

Chris sighed in defeat, he saw her handle herself first hand after all, but only time would tell.