Chapter 10: Trading Stories

Chris was sitting upright on a hospital cot. His only apparent injury was the splint across his nose from when the man in the bar head butted him. When he had felt it earlier it didn't feel broken, but when a nurse examined it, she thought that maybe it was a hairline fracture. Just to be safe, she plastered a splint on him. Chris honestly thought that his jaw hurt a lot worse. The woman had done some serious damage to it, but he was lucky that it wasn't dislocated or broken. The rest of his injuries included a bruised tail bone and a cut along the side of his scalp that needed four stitches, and about a dozen small bruises.

Chris was waiting for the nurse to return and discharge him. She had given him some painkillers, but that was fifteen minutes ago, and Chris was wishing that they would work faster. He sat and stared at his knees.

"How am I going to explain this to Claire?" he asked himself. "She'll freak out when she finds out." He sighed then leaned back and stared at the ceiling of his room. "She's got enough stuff to worry about without having to constantly see me injured. I should be protecting her, not giving her more problems." Chris mentally kicked himself. "Idiot."

There was the sound of a scuffle outside, then the metallic clatter of metal falling over. It was coming from the hallway outside his door. Chris sat up. "What is that?" At first, he thought that it could be that woman, coming to finish him off. Instead, the door burst open and Claire skidded into the room, out of breath. She was wearing her riding clothes. She stared at him wide eyed.

"Chris!"

Chris was taken slightly aback. He had no idea how she found out that he was here. "Uh...Claire. What're you doing here?"

Claire panted and made her way to Chris's cot. "Cops...told me...you were here." she said in between breaths. "What happened?"

Chris smiled sheepishly. "I uh, got into a fight in a bar." Claire finally stopped panting and regained her normal breathing.

"Are you okay?" She spotted the stitches on the side of his head. "Here, lemme see."

Chris batted her hand away from his head wound. "Claire, don't," he said firmly. "I've been checked out, and I'm fine. Just a little sore."

Despite his reassurance, Claire still leaned forward, peering worriedly at his face. "How did it happen? I told you not to get drunk, your temper..."

"Had nothing to do with it." Chris hated to see her so worked up. "I didn't get drunk. It was something...darker than that." Claire's face went from worried to a mixture of confusion.

"What are you talking about?" Chris told her about the events that transpired: about how he met the woman in the black dress, the fight with the men, and then how he and the woman fought.

"Do you think she was telling the truth?" asked Claire when he finished. "What if she really is with Umbrella?"

"No. If she was with Umbrella, I would have been dead. And I don't think it could be Wesker either."

Claire sat on the edge of his bed. "Well, why not?"

Chris laughed bitterly. "It's personal. He wouldn't send someone else after me, let alone directly confront me. If it was Wesker, he would find us, then show up himself."

Claire clutched Chris's hand in hers. Chris could tell she was nervous."Still, do you think we should move?" Chris shook his head.

"No, we're fine-"

"We could go stay with Barry, or Jill..."

"Claire, no." Chris squeezed her hand back reassuringly. "I said we're fine. I don't know what happened tonight, but I'm sure that it's not related to anything. We can't go jumping to conclusions at every little thing that happens." Claire sighed in relief.

"Alright, I trust you." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Now, it was Chris's turn to lean forward.

"What happened to your eye?" Chris asked. Her face was swollen around the side of her eye, and the skin was a little red.

"Oh...nothing," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"Claire, I just sat here and told you that a woman kicked the crap out of me. Spill it."

Claire winced. "Well, your night might not have been unrelated, but mine wasn't." She told her brother about what had happened to her. When he heard it, he bolted forward and grabbed her shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? It was Umbrella?"

Claire put her hand on top of his. "It's not what you think," she told him. "I wasn't hunted down or anything. I just bumped into two..." she sighed, "...people who couldn't let go of a grudge."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Claire grinned. "Yeah. I kicked their asses." Her smile faded. "And uh, by the way, we have to pick up my bike at the police impound." Chris rolled his eyes and she giggled nervously.