Hello everybody.
It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, I'm still alive it seems, and it's time I give you the rest of the story. Thank you for all the wonderful encouraging messages I received these past months. I read and reread all of them and they helped me get over the block. I couldn't reply to all of you via PM as some of you are guests, but I sure leave a special comment for you at the end of this chapter.
And about this chapter and the following ones. This is how the story evolved. I'm not trying to offend anyone with it. I hope you like it, but if not, I'm sorry, I'm not going to change it.
The chapter are loooong ones. 5-8K words each, I think, maybe some more. They haven't been corrected by anyone, as my dearest Adonna2424 is currently unavailable. So, no matter how often I read and checked it, you will find some mistakes in this work. I'm sorry for that. I will upload the finished and corrected version once it's done, but, in the meantime, I don't want to wait any longer. I have my reasons.
I hope you're all fine and still standing. I am.
My best regards and lots of hugs.
X.
It had been the first night of the rest of his life; his life together with Claire; and Leon had noticed that being someone's boyfriend didn't feel as bad as he had imagined.
"Will you be there when I wake?" he had asked her, afraid that the nightmares Ada had given him during all those years would continue, but Claire had promised she would.
And she was. When Leon opened his eyes, his redhead was sleeping right next to him, turned onto her stomach and with her head resting on her right arm. He smirked softly as he had a closer look at the tiny freckles that seemed to rain from her nose and cheeks onto her white skinned shoulders. Several red hair strands covered her face. Leon tucked them carefully behind her ear and ran his fingertips softly over her cheeks and jaw. Claire shifted in her sleep and turned onto her back, leaving one of her white breasts uncovered. Leon chuckled and bit his lower lip as his fingers kept descending; over her neck and collarbone, until he reached her breast and cupped it softly. He couldn't resist the temptation; he watched her, amused, as he began teasing her.
Claire moaned softly before her eyes fluttered open.
"I dreamt we danced," she whispered as Leon looked at her face and smiled. She closed her eyes again and started humming the melody of the song they had been dancing to the night before. "… so, darling, save the last dance for me." She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "And then you kissed me."
He leaned into her face and rubbed the tip of his nose over hers. "I don't think it was a dream," he replied in a soft voice before he caught her lips with his. His hand didn't let go of her body as his mouth kissed her, hungry for everything she was and could be. He stroked over the soft skin under her breast as he made his way down to her waist and hips, holding her tenderly against his own body. She felt so fragile under his touch that he almost feared he could break her if he grabbed her too tightly.
Claire chuckled into his kiss and threw her arm around his neck, softly pulling him onto her. Leon moaned as she moved her legs around his waist and he ran his hand from her thigh up to the back of her knee, pushing her leg up to her shoulder. Eyes shut, the redhead under him let her head fall back, offering her neck to him. The tip of his tongue glided over the delicate skin and up to her jaw; he planted a kiss on it. It tickled; Claire laughed and made Leon's heart jump.
"Come in," she begged as she felt his erection press against her thighs. "Please."
Leon breathed against her skin as he shifted a little, searching for the right angle, slowly pushing into her as he found it. One hand flew against the headboard when she felt him inside, while the other one dug her nails into the flesh of his back. He groaned in plain and pleasure as he moved inside of her. He reached for the hand she had slung around him and pushed it up to the headboard, next to the other one. Pinning both her wrists down, he kept thrusting into her with fury. She let him. She opened her eyes and caught him watching her. Forcing up her upper body, she aimed for his lips and caught them in a deep, wet kiss.
"Leon," she moaned into his mouth. "Harder."
He chuckled and obeyed. His thrusts became harder, deeper, as her moans went louder and her breasts danced wildly to their rhythm.
His hands freed hers and Claire used her chance shamelessly to flip Leon onto his back. She climbed onto his lap, claiming him like she had never claimed anything or anyone before, showing him that she would never let go of him now that she knew what he tasted like.
He was hers and he loved it.
She was so beautiful, he thought, unable to take his eyes off her as she impaled herself on him. Leon moaned and grabbed her waist as she began to sensually roll her hips over his. Claire reached for his neck, running her hands up and through his hair as she turned his face up to hers.
"Kiss me," she commanded and he, again, did what he was told. How couldn't he just surrender to his goddess with red hair when she was just riding him like that? Claire twirled her tongue inside his mouth as if she tried to choke him; to suck out his life essence; she pulled back and had him longing for more. Leon hooked his fingers into her hips as he guided her up and down his hole length. Up and down; up and down, until he exploded in her. When they came together, Claire leaned down, looped her arms around him and screamed her orgasm into his neck and the pillow underneath.
"Can I wake like this every day from now on?" Leon was staring at the ceiling, his arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as she caressed the sensitive spot under his armpit. "Hey, that tickles."
Claire giggled and turned her head up to kiss him as her fingertips kept sliding delicately over his skin.
"Wouldn't have thought that you're ticklish. Is that your weak point, agent Kennedy?" She asked playfully among kisses.
Leon chuckled.
"Oh, yeah, but don't let the bad guys know. They could tickle all kinds of state secrets out of me."
She smiled widely at him, admiring his beauty secretly as her fingers played with his hair. Softly, she began to caress down his neck and over his shoulders.
"I want to know where else you are ticklish," she whispered and made him laugh. He would happily let her search, touch and discover every spot on his body.
She'd been the girl from Raccoon City, the indestructible survivor, and his best friend; and it was time she got to know him on the outside as well as she already knew him on the inside.
- XIX -
The Up
The wind was still blowing wildly through the windows and pushed dry leaves and sand into the tiny chamber, but that wasn't what made room 315 look so uncomfortable to Ada. Now that she knew what had been going on in front of the camera, she felt revulsive, disgusted and nauseous, and it got worse the farther she walked into the room. Claire Redfield wasn't someone she particularly cared about, but analyzing the issue closely, she sympathized more with the redhead than with Vång, especially given the fact that facing and challenging mad scientists was part of her own daily tasks and that it could have been herself on that footage.
However, she hadn't come because of Claire; she had come because of the virus.
She shone her flashlight into the room and scanned it for anything useful. Since the memory card hadn't shown much use yet, the sinister room where they'd found it seemed the most proper spot to continue the investigations, as they hadn't cared about checking it thoroughly after finding the camera. She had lost valuable time in the process, but getting rid of Natalia Korda had been as important as keeping searching for the samples Vång had hidden somewhere.
The room didn't show any proof of someone's recent presence other than the surgical tools and the camera. The only content of the drawers and closets in the room were dirt and some tiny cockroach here and there. The medical equipment had been cleaned carefully, though, a nice smell of disinfectants emerging from them. There were different-sized porcelain jars placed on the dresser next to the bed, a huge painting of a landscape hung from the wall and a chessboard with a begun game rested on a small tea table. A pretty weird way to decorate such a small room.
Ada hovered the flashlight over the piles of papers and books on the desk; nothing but some poetry books and old writing pads with the hotel's emblem and address stamped onto them. A cloud of dust rose from the sheets as she flicked through the pages and denoted that nobody had been reading or writing there in a very long time. She waved the particles off her nose, coughing up a little. There was a bookshelf next to the desk that caught her attention. The flashlight revealed quickly the thick layer of dust that covered the dark, wooden shelf and the books on them. Well, on most of them. Marks in the dirt on the wood made evident that one of the tomes had been moved recently. Ada chuckled as she loved finding things she wasn't supposed to. Gloved fingers pulled on the back of the book, observing carefully if it wasn't activating a murderous mechanism. A breath of relief released itself as the tome dropped into her palm without causing a bomb to blast or a gun to shoot her. It was a bible she held in her hands; bound into a chestnut brown leather cover with golden letters on it. The book soon revealed the secret compartment that had been cut into the pages, leaving space to hide a black chess figure.
"The bishop, huh?" She whispered as she observed the piece in the moonlight.
Ada stretched her neck towards the chessboard on the opposite side of the room and smirked. With the chess piece in her hand, she walked back to the tea table and analyzed the game. The bishop she had collected looked like a piece from the same set. The question was, where did it belong?
They game somehow reminded her of a horde of zombies chasing their next meal. The black king was in a crucial position as the last dark piece on the board, while the losses on the other side were barely noticeable. The white king was still in its original place; pawns were placed chaotically all over the board; the two bishops and rooks stood on opposite sides. Only one of the knights and the queen were missing.
It looked like a bad game for the black player. Ada's look dropped to the piece in her hand and jumped back to the board. There had to be a position from where the bishop could leave the white king in checkmate and win the game, but it seemed every possible square was occupied by a white piece.
She bit her lower lip.
If Vång thought those riddles would keep her from finding the samples, he was wrong. She had been used to solving them since she'd been hired to infiltrate Umbrella and had met John Clemens. Poor John had been a good man, whose intellect had gotten him killed. Only fools could live happily in a world where bioterrorism was a common subject in the news, as people who knew too much were likely to get chased by either one side or the other, or both, like herself. John hadn't only been a brilliant researcher, but also a huge fan of encrypted messages and puzzles, which was something they both used to hide their affair from prying eyes. One day he had sent her a small wooden box that only opened if it was held into the sunlight in the right angle; the gadget was more expensive than the tiny gold ring she had found inside of it along with a marriage proposal. Poor John had seen his theories confirmed and gotten infected before she could even give him an answer. She had kept the ring, though.
Ada forced her attention back to the chessboard. There was only one free position from where the bishop could threaten the white king. She carefully placed the piece onto square C4 on the board and waited expectantly. Surprisingly, nothing happened. Teeth gritting, she started observing the game again, soon deducing that there was no other solution to this puzzle. Unless it wasn't a puzzle.
She huffed at her own mistake. Vång hadn't left this as a riddle for her to solve, but to hide something from strangers; and the chess piece wasn't a hint, but a simple key. Following a logical order would surely lead her down the wrong path. Her eyes scanned the board again. Was it possible that the black bishop wouldn't stop after checkmating the king? In a common chess game, the king was never captured, considering the checkmate the end of the game. Vång, however, had proven to be unrefined enough to give a damn about respect or ethics.
She replaced the white king with the black bishop and something behind her clicked. Turning her head back, she found the landscape painting swinging open slowly, letting a blue light shine into the room. 'How original - a hidden door behind a painting,' Ada thought. 'New villain, same old tricks.' She drew her gun, expecting anything to jump out from behind the painting, and slowly advanced towards it.
Nothing jumped out of the cabinet behind the painting; nothing big enough to be dangerous would have fitted into it anyway. She found some sort of fridge containing test tubes and samples. She smirked victoriously as she took up one of the syringes and read the inscription on it.
"AG-40289." Whatever it was, it was surely expensive. Ada kept inspecting the rest of the content, until her phone buzzed. "Any news about what was on the memory card?" she asked quietly into the speaker.
The response made her eyes glow.
At some point, there was no way farther down, and after trying to break through a blocked metal door, Jill and Leon had to choose a way up again. On the ground floor they found a machine room full of pipes and valves, where smoke emerged from openings in the walls, shining brightly in the dark red lights. The air was broiling and made it hard to breathe. Jill flicked on her flashlight to investigate the darkest corners, finding a body lying on the ground. At least, it looked like something that had been living once.
"This man has been dead for weeks." She knelt down next to him and turned the name sign on his suit. "Winward, maintenance. He's completely mummified."
"In these surroundings? No wonder." Leon narrowed his eyes as he found a trace of a dark liquid on the ground and followed it to a nearby door. "Jill."
The B.S.A.A. officer joined him, pressing her back against the wall next to the door, waiting for Leon to put his hand onto the handle. After one last nod from his partner, he pushed the door open, turning into the room with his gun lifted, Jill stepping in right after him. The temperature decreased suddenly. Their eyes scanned the area that turned out to be a lab full glass capsules; ten or twelve; most of them occupied with female human bodies. At first sight, they looked like cryogenic suspension capsules; a closer look showed, though, that it was simple glass coffins. They were in the morgue it seemed. Fortunately, the lab was empty besides that.
Jill watched Leon holster his weapon inattentively, placing a hand onto the glass case of the first coffin and inspecting the face of the body inside. The image broke her heart. It was frightening to see such a dark shadow on his face. Stronger than life and death together, Leon Kennedy had always been considered one of the best agents the world could count on, but with his life in shards, all that was left of him was that stone wall of a man; just a shell with no life in it. Apparently, it was true; an important part of Leon had died with Claire two months prior. Jill watched him, wondering if it was wrong to give him some hope.
"Leon," she whispered softly as the agent started looking closely at the content of the coffins, obviously searching for the familiar face of his wife, and not finding anything. Of course, he didn't find anything. Claire wasn't dead. Jill sighed. "Listen..."
He turned, ready to hear what Jill had to tell him, but she never got the chance to complete her sentence as someone or something considered they were disturbing. Jill had heard the rattling just a second before the thing broke through the ground and aimed for them.
"Leon, down!"
Both rolled into opposite directions and dodged the attack of the huge snake B.O.W. that leaned out from the floor below and spat at them. Most of it was still hidden on the floor below, but seeing the head, she could foresee that the thing was at least thirty feet long. Its dark scales shimmered in the dim light of the room as it seemed to dance to the rhythm of its own rattling music. The glass coffins were broken; not to speak of the ground, which now wore a beautiful dark hole in it. Jill ground her teeth. God, she hated snakes.
"You're alright?" Leon's voice came from the other corner of the room.
"I'm fine!" she yelled back. On one knee, Jill fired at the snake until it roared in pain and anger. Leon was shooting from where he was, too. "Don't let it get too close!"
A metal object jumped over the ground and the following blast rumbled through the room. Leon had thrown a grenade it seemed and it pumped the snake backwards. It groaned and shook and withdrew, disappearing into the hole where it had come from. Dust and smoke filled the room and Jill took the chance to stand up and run toward the gap, where she met Leon.
"Great," he hissed as they inspected the floor. "I already thought this would be boring."
Jill shook her head. Maybe it was time to call reinforcements. She searched for her phone, thinking if Rory Williams could send them some men and more weapons without getting Chris involved.
A sound came from the floor below. Before they could aim for the threatening noise again, the Snake rushed up the hole, and jumped onto Leon, catching him between its fangs.
"Leon!" she screamed as she kept firing at the beast, attempting to make it release her friend. Blood splattered over the floor; that much she could see in the dusty darkness before the snake turned its upper body and threw itself against her.
Glass and stone shattered through the room as Jill tried to reach for Leon in blindness. She stretched her hand out, palpating nothing more than dust. Up and down lost their meaning as gravity gave up on her and left her floating in a fog of destruction. She was fragile; weightless like air. What felt like it lasted a hundred years, was just a fracture of a second as the B.O.W. threw her backwards into the wall and something creaked inside of her like a lobster shell. She wasn't made of air anymore. She was made of bones and muscles and every single one of them hurt.
Jill tried to speak and call for the lost partner; however, instead of words, blood bubbled from her mouth.
Natalia was following Claire closely as they dashed through the corridor. Something was moving in the basement and the fear of the immortal headless scientist behind them didn't leave them any other choice. Not without proper weaponry; not without a plan.
"Run, don't stop," Claire gasped as she spotted a stairway. "We'll soon be out."
Something smashed the door to the basement open and made her cry out. The headless man had managed to break out of his prison and was now chasing them again. His footsteps echoed through the room as threatening as gunfire.
Natalia gasped for air. Her lungs seemed to compress more with every step she ran, making breathing impossible. She coughed up blood and staggered, but something kept her from falling. Claire's hand reached for Natalia's to keep pulling the girl after her. "I got you."
Fingers twirled in her palm as Natalia tried to hold on to her, her little feet acting as a mere support to the force that was dragging her forward. Claire had almost pulled her to the stairway when a tremor shook the whole building and caused the women to fall.
"What was that?" Claire turned to Natalia, checking if the girl was alright. It was when she caught sight of the headless person following them. Vång was laughing loudly, his head stuffed under his right arm.
"Miss Redfield!" The dead face shouted after her while she bent over Natalia, trying to pull the girl into her grip. "Stop running, Claire."
She watched in repulsion the abomination Vång had become, unable to take her eyes off him. Throwing Natalia's arms around her neck and pulling her onto her back, Claire hissed as she watched how Vång placed his head onto his shoulders, muscles, flesh and arteries snapping back together with whipping sounds, healing him, curing him. It was terrifying and repulsive and it wasn't even the worst about the man who was reconstructing himself in front of her. Claire gasped, her left hand clinging to Natalia's arms around her neck, the other searching for the ax on the floor, while her eyes were still stuck on Vång. He tilted his head, smiled creepily and kept walking towards her.
"Oh, Claire," he said as he watched her collapse again under the weight of the girl on her shoulders. "I don't know how to thank you."
She turned her head in anger and got up, lifting the ax as she stood protectively in front of Natalia.
"Don't come closer!"
He laughed darkly, ignoring her words.
"I was so captivated by the idea of getting the T-Phobos for the mind transfer that I ignored its real power." Step by step he advanced towards the women, unimpressed by Claire's declaration of war. "The signals were there. Your T-Phobos has impressive reanimating powers, Claire, even without mutating you. That was why you moved so early in the recovery process after your passing. My G-Manes heals, it cures, but it wouldn't be able to make dead tissue move. And it would take it months to rebuild a complete head that has been cut off." A sinister smile dressed his face as his lip twitched. "So, thank you, Claire. Your T-Phobos just saved me after your treacherous attack with the ax, and now it will be the key to bring master Wesker back." He was so close he could easily attack Claire and she could smell the warm blood on him. Before he could take another step, Claire swung the ax into his direction, against his left arm, causing Vång to twist and turn like a merry-go-round. He kept cool though, giving Claire a chiding glance over the shoulder as he held his upper arm, carefully pushing it back into place. "I'm getting tired of your backstabbing attitude, my dear. You should show a little more gratefulness. I'm the one who brought you and your child back from the dead after your dear husband left you burning."
Claire shook her head and lurched forward to pull Natalia to her feet. "Natalia, come on, please. You have to run."
The girl gasped heavily and coughed up blood as she tried to walk, held up by Claire, as Vång came menacingly close. He dashed forward and Claire let go of Natalia as his hand curled easily around her wrist. The redhead turned and hammered the ax against his lower arm again, cutting off with one lucky hit the hand that was holding her. Vång grunted loudly but didn't flinch further when Claire pulled his hand off her body and threw it away in disgust, watching how it jumped devilishly over the floor.
"You see, Claire?" Vång laughed at her. "Your blood made this possible."
Her expression darkened as she turned the ax in her hand. If she couldn't kill him, she would find another way to take him down. Picturing him spiked onto a pale from which he couldn't free himself; captured inside a water tank, drowning over and over again; or consumed by acid; she felt the warmth of satisfaction crawl up her face in shape of a malevolent smile as her heart beat faster.
Ax lifted, she jumped towards him, willing to butcher, slice him into pieces and feed him to corrosion. It would be such a sweet revenge.
It was a little late for Vång to jump back when he saw Claire's ax come down again. She spun and kicked like a warrior and got the blade to cut the flesh on his right calf, causing him to stumble. He kicked her face, though, sending her rolling backwards over the floor. Iron taste shot into her mouth and she spat out some blood before the wound in her inner cheek healed. Pretty useful those healing powers.
"Miss Redfield," Vång gasped, laughing darkly, "Looks like you didn't turn out to be as nice company as I had expected." He pushed his hand into his pocket and took out a syringe with a green liquid bubbling in it. "It's time to make you human again, so I can finally get rid of you."
Before she could wonder what substance he was injecting her and how it would help him kill her, she had to dodge his next attack. Unafraid of the blade or any pain it could bring, Vång pushed forward, trying to hit Claire in the side. She advanced to slam the ax into his body again to force him down onto the ground, but before she could reach him, Vång turned. With a quick move he pulled Claire towards him, causing her to drop the ax. Vång was fast and athletic and he pushed her into the wall with too much ease, cutting her breath pushing his lower arm into her throat. Strength vanished completely from her limbs as she desperately gasped for air, scratching over his shoulders and ramming her knee into his side. It was useless, though. Nothing was enough to stop the man from pressing the needle into her neck and shooting the green fluid into her blood way. It stung into her and burnt through her veins as her eyes stared at her punisher in shock. He let go of her, smiling in satisfaction as he watched her slide to the ground.
"Enjoy your last minutes of immortality, Claire," he whispered, slowly taking out a revolver from his pocket and aiming for her head. "This was it."
However, before he could pull the trigger, something pushed him to his side.
'That's good, fearless girl.'
Alex' voice in her head encouraged Natalia to attack Vång again, telling her exactly how she had to proceed. Where her dying body took that strength from was a mystery – so was the provenience of the long metal lance that had suddenly appeared on the ground next to her body. It looked like a fire iron, and she wondered if there were any fireplaces close. Anyway, it was exactly what she needed to stop the mad scientist from hurting Claire. Under the fire of Alex' boldening words, Natalia bored the lance into his chest and pushed him to the ground. He spat blood as the metal perforated his lungs and windpipe.
'Go on. Leave him pinned to the ground.'
Natalia kept pushing the metal through Vång's chest in a desperate intent to immobilize him, but the floor was too hard and rigid for her to successfully pin him down.
"I can't do it."
Her forehead dropped against her fists, which were tightly wrapped around the metal as Vång slowly started to move again. Claire was lying on the floor behind her, uselessly panting and shaking. She would be an easy target for Vång once he woke up and there was nothing Natalia could do about it. Tears ran down her cheeks under the weight of the certainty that she couldn't do anything to stop the evil soul below. Even in full health, she was still a teenager; but with her lungs coming apart, she was nothing more than a weak skeleton full of mashed organs; fragile and small.
She covered her mouth with her hand, soon coughing up blood and dark pieces of flesh into her palm. Disgusted by her lungs' particular way to say hello, she found a way to keep Vång from following them. She wasn't strong enough to slam a metal lance into the ground, but she still had enough power to rip off the sleeve of the cheap hospital robe she wore. Pulling at the fabric, she tore the seams and separated the sleeve from the rest of the robe. Rolling the cloth into a ball, Natalia knelt down, opened Vång's mouth and pushed the fabric down his throat. The scientist convulsed under her, trembling as his body longed for air.
"Eat this," Natalia whispered as she forced the cotton ball farther down his pipe; so far, he soon stopped moving. "And when you wake up, you're going to choke all over again." She made sure that the robe stuck so deep that he wouldn't be able to pull it out on his own before dying again. She sighed in relief.
"I think I made it," Natalia spoke to herself, hearing Alex' laughter in her head.
'You did, fearless girl.' A short, comforting silence came. It was so quiet around them, Natalia could hear the air whistle through her obstructed windpipe as she breathed. It felt like peace, and it was good. 'Now let's get Albert out of here.'
But peace never lasted very long where she was. Natalia froze under the impact of Alex' words in her head. "What?" What had Alex said? Was she pursuing the same goals as Vång had been? That hadn't been the plan. A hand on her shoulder made her turn in shock, relaxing in relief when she looked into Claire's face. The redhead was covered in sweat and a dark shadow rested under her eyes; she was gasping, but she was awake.
"That was very clever, congratulations," she rolled to her knees and forced herself onto her feet again, leaning against the wall searching for support. "Take the gun, I'll take the ax. And let's get the fuck out of here."
'No, Natalia. Don't leave my brother here. I can still use him.'
Natalia nodded, forcing a smile and doing her best to contain Alex' will.
"Let's go."
He had dreamt of Claire again.
Admittedly, since her death he hadn't spent one single night without seeing her in his dreams. His mind wasn't willing to let go of her memory; not yet, at least. The first nights the dreams had felt more vivid than reality itself, letting him taste her smell on the tip of his tongue and touch the sound of her voice with his fingers. Over the past two months, it had all become a little hazier but not less intense, because even though his senses seemed to slowly erase the memory they had kept of her and start the healing, his heart didn't want to mend, holding on to every painful feeling of failure, guilt, loss and love. They would always persist and be a part of him until his time would come.
He was almost sure his time had come already. Awakened in darkness and cold, he expected the pain to invade him as soon as he remembered how he had gotten where he was. The snake dressed in black and red, the deafening sound of a structure coming down, the fear on Jill's face and the darkness that claimed him afterwards had found a place to rest on his mind and wouldn't let go of him, like so many other things he had lived and seen in the past. The weird thing about it was that there was no pain. No stinging in his chest when he tried to breathe, no creaking when he tried to move. Nothing. His heart was still beating, though, he noticed as he put his hand to his neck to check his vital signs. Maybe he had just been incredibly lucky. Leon sat up.
"Jill?" He called into the darkness and listened. Nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the building reached his ears, so he called again, with the same response.
The ex-agent rolled onto his elbow to push himself up and began feeling nauseous. His free hand palpated along his leg intuitively until it found the small pocket where he kept the doses of green herbs, quickly opening the case and taking out one of the tiny tablets. At least it would restore his energy and cause the nausea to cease. He felt better immediately, soon crawling onto his knees and searching for his equipment on the ground around him. It was dark and the ground was sticky, but he bravely kept searching for his tools and weapons, pushing his earpiece into his ear as soon as he found it. Once he switched his flashlight on, he found that the stickiness on the floor was a lake of blood he had been lying in. He himself was fine, though. His heart began to race as the fear it could be Jill's blood took over him. His handgun and some ammunition had been placed carefully next to him along with a small metal case he grabbed and opened it without hesitating. Intuition was telling him who had left him the gift, but the short glance into the case confirmed it. Inside, he found two syringes. Before Leon could do anything, he heard something move in the room.
The agent grabbed the handgun and jumped onto his feet. His eyes scanned the room for enemies, but when something swooshed through the air, he was more than sure who his silent company had been. After so many years, he would always recognize that shade of red, the sound of her hook shot and her particular way to vanish when things got too compromising.
"Ada!" He yelled through the room as the shadow flew over his head to a higher floor and disappeared. A curse on his lips, he shone his flashlight into the room. It looked like another dining hall, for staff probably, with several plywood tables and rusty chairs around them. In the middle of the area lay the dead body of the snake B.O.W. that had attacked them earlier. Leon's look flew up. Part of the ceiling had come down, which was probably where the snake had broken through. Maybe Jill was still on the upper floor. Leon decided to try to call her and took out his phone, when a message came in.
Sorry I couldn't stay for a talk. Take the AG-40289 with you. You might consider it helpful.
Leon frowned at the lines.
"Helpful, huh?" He considered running after Ada and request answers about why she was in the hotel, what the substance in the syringe was, and the most important question of them all: if she knew anything about the whereabouts of Claire's body. However, he first needed to make sure Jill was alright. He started dialing her number again and felt his heart beat faster with every second that passed without response. When he was about to give up, the line crackled.
"Leon," Jill's voice sounded weak, like a whisper, but she was alive. "Thank god, I thought you were dead."
"Jill, where are you? Are you hurt?" Leon walked angrily through the room towards the dead B.O.W.
"I'm alright," she said softly. "That thing knocked me out, had me spit blood but now I only feel a little dizzy. We should watch out for it, Leon."
He cleared his throat.
"No need to," he said as he stood over the dead snake. "Someone already took care of it. It's dead."
"What?" Jill whispered confusedly, but quickly dropped the subject. "Anyway, we should regroup A.S.A.P. I think you're on the floor below the room where we were separated, but it was too high for me to jump. I'm on my way down."
Leon hummed as he walked through the room until he found a door and opened it.
"Alright," he said. "Let's meet halfway."
Once he'd hung up, he pulled out his gun and flashlight, ready for any other gift that crazy scientist could have prepared for them, and left the room, stepping into another dark hallway. They had been lucky this time, but it was way too dangerous to put the guard down.
How long had it been since she'd last picked a lock? She'd once been pretty skilled with handmade lock picks; so much that even Jill would have admired her for her proficiency. However, that had been many years ago and no matter how old the simple lock on the metal door was, it was taking her longer than she would have wished. Also, the hairpin wasn't the most reliable object to pick the lock as it was a little too weak to tense correctly. However, it would have to work and at least it was giving Natalia some time to rest. The girl was sitting on the floor behind her, eyes and ears on the hall in case something or someone would attack them.
'I know what you're about to ask and it's stupid.' Alex' angry voice echoed through her head, but Natalia kept ignoring her.
"Can't you just shoot the lock?" The girl asked innocently, causing Claire to chuckle.
"That wouldn't be very clever," she said and turned her head to Natalia and winked. "This entire door and its lock can't just be shot open, not even with a revolver." She laughed and focused on the task again. "The bullet would most probably ricochet, maybe hurt one of us, and the door would still be closed. I can't believe Barry didn't teach you that."
Natalia giggled.
"Barry doesn't let me play with guns," she said as she looked at the revolver in her hand. "I think it's because of what happened to Moira."
Claire sighed as her cold fingers kept working on the lock. It was being really tricky.
"Yeah, he still blames himself for leaving his guns lying around. I'm glad they recovered their relationship." She yelped a bit as her wrist began to hurt from the tension of applying rotational pressure to the lock while she worked on moving the inner pins into the right position. Jill would have done it in a matter of seconds. "You know what?" Claire turned back to Natalia without letting go of the tools. "When we're out, I will teach you how to shoot someday. When Barry is too busy to notice, if possible."
Natalia laughed a little.
"That would be nice," she giggled. "You'll be a cool mom, Claire."
Those words hurt unexpectedly much. Even if she was still pregnant, once she got out Rebecca wouldn't let her continue her pregnancy and she would lose Leon's child for good. That is if it was still Leon's. She shivered at the thought. God knows what happened in the time she had been unconscious, and given what she had seen on the video, it could be perfectly Vång's. Claire shook her head and focused on the lock again. It was definitely not the right time to think about the pregnancy and neither did she want to concern Natalia, nor to give Alex Wesker the pleasure of knowing how much she and her fucking virus had messed up her body and life.
"Because Vång said earlier that he had saved your child as well, is that right?" Natalia asked excitedly, at which the redhead could only hum softly before the girl kept the conversation going. "That's great. I'm so happy for you. Have you chosen names?"
Claire didn't know how to respond. Trying to act naturally, she forced a smile.
"It's a bit too early for that, don't you think?" She sighed. "When I got abducted, we were far from knowing if it's a boy or a girl. And we first have to focus on everybody's well-being."
Natalia seemed to understand; she nodded and coughed up some blood.
"I just thought you had chosen options," she said. "Barry once told me that Moira would have been Brandon if she'd been a boy. Imagine that! Brandon Burton!"
Despite feeling awkward, Claire couldn't help but laugh at the girl's comment. Moira was really lucky to have been born a girl, she thought.
"I hope Kathy would have stopped him from calling his son Brandon." She levered the hairpin a little lower down and heard how another of the lock's pins clicked. Good.
Natalia sighed faintly behind her.
"I like Andrew. You can use that name if you don't have own ideas for your baby. I give it to you," she whispered, causing Claire to smile in regret as she understood. The reason why Natalia wouldn't drop the uncomfortable subject wasn't actually the happiness over Claire's unborn child, but the sadness of knowing she would never have children herself. The teenager coughed again and Claire felt her grieve. She couldn't tell the girl, but when it came to motherhood their both conditions were hopeless. After recovering breath, Natalia smiled warmly and spoke again. "And for the girl, Hannah."
"Hannah," Claire's voice came out as a soft whisper as she kept working on the lock. No matter whose kid was growing inside of her and even though that kid would never see daylight, children deserved to have a name. "I like it." When the last pins clicked into place and the lock started to turn she yelped in excitement and looked at Natalia. "Got it. Shall we?"
The girl nodded and let Claire help her onto her feet. Giving the long, dark hallway one last victorious glance, the two women disappeared behind the door and shut it.
Meeting up with Jill would be harder than he had imagined. Every door Leon opened brought another disappointment, empty rooms, obstructed paths or simply more halls and doors; some of them locked. The sophisticated construction some architect had surely won a prize for was giving him one hell of a time. Every now and then he contacted Jill to make sure they weren't running into opposite directions, which nobody could guarantee anyway. However, they were now covering a bigger area than before; it might even have been helpful to split up.
"I've just found a staircase," Jill's voice echoed through the line. "Looks like there are several underground floors."
"Such a huge basement construction must have a strong ventilation system," he mumbled into the speaker as his eyes scanned the hall for grates. "Keep an eye on the air duct, Jill. You never know what might hide inside."
"I will. I'm going down now. I'll call you back soon." With those words she ended the call.
Leon felt he had walked for years when he opened the next door and another dark hall unfolded before him. It was cold, dusty and it smelled like backwater in the summer sun. On top of that, his flashlight started to fail.
"Look, the B.S.A.A. has the same flashlight provider as the D.S.O., it seems," he cursed, hitting the lamp softly against his palm. Bigger devices had been repaired the same magical way. In his case, though, it killed it for good. "Fantastic."
At least his phone was still working. Shining the screen light into the room before him, he advanced slowly. One could never know when they'd be attacked by another B.O.W., but that was by far not the only reason to keep all senses on the scenario. The room resembled the reception hall they had found when they'd entered the hotel, as it reached over two floors with a long stairway leading up to the second stage; nothing more than a wooden gallery from where one would have a wonderful view of the floor below. That is if it wasn't coated in darkness. The walls were covered with stone and old shelves and seemed to imitate an old wine cellar. As Leon walked quietly through the hall, he spotted a figure flying up the mezzanine.
"Ada!" Leon started sprinting through the hall and towards the stairs as he watched Ada approach the first door on her right. If he didn't hurry she would, once again, flee without any explanation, and he couldn't afford letting her leave without giving him answers. Running as fast as he could, he soon made it to the stairs. He needed answers. "Come back!"
The stairs squeaked when he put his feet onto them; a sound that could have woken the dead if Umbrella hadn't taken care of that already. However, Leon didn't flinch; not even when the third or fourth stair gave in and broke under his weight. He just kept running.
Ada had already opened the door, checking her phone one last time before she would disappear again. He didn't have much time left. He couldn't let her leave. Because of Claire, he couldn't let Ada leave. He couldn't.
"Leon!"
'I can't.' With those words still on his mind, he decreased his pace upwards the stairs until he came to stop. That voice; he knew it. It was unusually shrill, but familiar. It couldn't be. His eyes jumped to Ada, who had stopped running and was now glaring down at the ground floor below, her phone casting both light and shadows onto her face.
"Leon!"
His heart hammered hard against his ribcage as he turned around and laid his eyes on her.
"Claire."
He wouldn't believe what he saw. He had expected to find her as dead as the last time he had seen her. Dead like rotten; like burnt; like not moving; like not speaking anymore. However, there she stood in the darkness of the room, only the weak light of his phone shining on her, and she looked, smelled and sounded very alive. He watched her in the shadows and all his senses began to remember. He remembered the sound of her voice, that tender look on her face, the stubborn glance he had always admired so much — until the day she'd died.
Because she was dead.
Intuitively, Leon laid his hand onto his gun as his eyes kept locked on her.
None of them dared say a word to break the ice. Claire held her breath as she saw the hesitance on Leon's face and it felt like someone hit her in the chest with a wrecking ball. She needed him to hold her; tell her everything would be alright, but what she got instead was cold rejection. What the fuck was wrong with the world? She had, by far, gone through enough shit that day to be forced to see her husband standing there in doubt; so close and yet so far away. Holding back tears, she lowered her head to take a look at herself in the gloomy light of his phone screen and what she saw shocked her to the bone. Her slender, rather skinny body was still wrapped in that awful, blood-soaked nightgown and her fingers kept curling tightly around the handle of the ax. Claire shook her head and looked at Leon again. He had to be horribly confused.
Without any more doubt, she tossed the ax away and threw up her both hands in defeat.
"It's me, darling," she said in a soft voice full of hope as she fought the tears back down. "It's me, and I'm unarmed."
She could see a million questions flash behind those narrowed eyes of his as he shook his head in disbelief. "But..."
The world around him stopped existing. He just stood there and kept staring at the bloody something that claimed to be Claire, and that nearly died of the pain of having to convince him. What was he doing there? He wanted to run to her, hold her, kiss her and never let go of her again, but something stopped him from believing. If this was a dream, why was he doubting? If he was dead, why wouldn't he just follow her into the light?
But he knew he wasn't dead or dreaming, and he had just seen too much to simply believe it was his wife and not just the shell of her.
"If you're Claire," he said and began walking down the stairs. "Tell me something only she knows."
Claire sobbed a little, but she understood. Even she herself had started to disbelieve that she was still Claire; how could she expect Leon to accept it without a doubt? Leon, who had watched her die; who had stayed with her until she was gone. Two tiny tears flowed down her cheeks as she nodded and took a step towards him.
"You are ticklish in three spots of your body," she said, smiling shyly. "Under the right armpit, following a line over your ribs down to your hip; but only on the right." She smiled widely as she remembered the hours she had spent trying to tickle him in different places of his body to find the exact spots where he was vulnerable to soft caresses. "On your inner thighs; both of them; and between your toes." Exhaling deeply, she nodded again.
Leon clenched his teeth a little. That was confirmation enough, he fought back some tears, but couldn't stop his eyes from watering.
"Claire…"
"I also know that I didn't wear any panties during our wedding ceremony," she said rolling her eyes a little. "You had kept them in your pocket after we were almost caught by the guests as we were…" She coughed. "Killing time waiting for Chris."
They couldn't stop smiling. Little by little they had reduced the distance between them to one foot, maybe two, and were now staring deeply into each other's eyes. The phone dropped to the floor as Leon jumped down the last stair and pulled Claire into his arms. And there she stayed.
"You were dead, Claire," he whispered, panting his breath over her temple. "You died. I was there. You were dead, Claire."
She whimpered a bit as she nuzzled his neck.
"He brought me back," Claire whispered out a painful gasp. "Vång."
He ran his hands over her face and hair like a blind man. His breathing was shallow as he slowly started to understand that it was real; that she was real. He was closer to tears than he would have ever admitted, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered; no Ada, no Jill; definitely no Chris and none of his accusations. Everything he needed was right there with him, covered in sweat and blood and with messy hair. Claire was back and it felt like she had never been gone. Like in his dreams. He rubbed his nose into her hair and kissed her ear, before he pulled back and looked into her eyes again. Swallowing down the knot in his throat, Leon sobbed a little and finally leaned into her.
He kissed her in the middle of the battlefield that was the abandoned hotel, and it was the best kiss she'd ever had. Claire granted herself that moment of peace, love and serenity. They just stood there with their lips pressed onto each other's and their arms slung tightly around their bodies. And as if they could stay like that forever, they were almost, almost oblivious to what was going on around them.
Ada had stood next to the door, witnessing their reunion. A part of her felt happy for Leon. Lucky that the boy who had walked into Raccoon City hadn't been smashed, tortured and killed through years of training and fighting and that he hadn't exhausted his source of hope by giving it to others too often. He deserved to be happy and see his dreams fulfilled, but no matter how often she had chosen her job over him, it still hurt that he hadn't included her in his wishes for a normal life. Tired of watching, Ada slowly turned the handle and disappeared into the darkness of the hotel alone.
Thanks a lot for reading, guys.
As I said, here are the thank you messages I owe all of you for your support. First of all, to Adonna2424, Sofistinha, Corpasite, RNAi-L and RavenSNG for their help, support and lovely messages all through this fic. To all those who read, follow and review my work. Special thanks to the following people:
Guest reviewer (ch1 - Jun 22) and Manu (Jul 16/Nov 5) Bueno, ante todo, gracias por tu review. Ya ves que sigo dando todo el apoyo posible a Survivors Reunion, pero no se pueden forzar las ideas. Sigo teniendo esperanzas de que Lastdragonborn274 se decida a seguir la historia él mismo. La historia sigue siendo suya.
Guest reviewer (ch20 - Jun 26) Tsssss. I'm still laughing at your attempt to discourage me. You don't like my stories? Why are you reading them? If your own life is so empty that you just go after others trying to offend, I feel honestly sorry for you. If you ever feel like it, just PM me and we can chat. I can actually be really nice if I want.
Mistress Muse. My dearest friend. Thank you so much for your encouraging words. I don't fear haters, but that doesn't mean that I love real fans and followers less in any way. Your review reached me in the best moment ever. I promised you, back then, that I was continuing the story. Here is the result, and now Claire can save the agent we all hate so much LOL
Guest reviewer (Jul 18) The Writer, may I call you The Writer? I really wish I could have responded to your review in a PM, because it touched me in a very special way. I'm so glad to hear that my writing inspired you and that you finished your book. Congratulations! I finished this fic, too. Thank you so much for your words.
LouiB YOU are amazing. You can't believe how happy I am every time I get one of your reviews. They're such a boost for my self-esteem. Thanks a bunch for reading what I write. It means incredibly much. I hope you like how the story continues… hehehe.
Guest reviewer (Ch 20 - Aug 10) "Dark and violent just for the sake of being dark and violent"? [Looks questioning at her other self] Did you know that? [Other self looks back] Ya, fuck, that was the purpose of this whole shit. [First self shrugs and looks back at Guest reviewer… who has long moved on to bother other authors]. Ya, it is. But my other self says that was clear from the beginning. Anyway, thank you for taking time to review.
Guest reviewer (Ch20 - Aug 12) You're so sweet. Thanks a lot for your review. And don't worry; there are still Cleon moments to come.
Hinatamaniac Here is the chapter I promised you (and the next ones xD) Thanks a lot for your incredibly encouraging review. It feels good to know people like what I write. Thanks a lot.
Guest reviewer (Ch14 - Nov 3) - Man, this is tedious. Why can't all those haters complete their creative hate reviews with a creative hater-name. I will call you The one who doesn't care, if you don't mind. Look, my Leon IS a scumbag because RE6 Leon is a scumbag. I like when my stories fit into the canon timeline, so I can't ignore all those stupid looks he gives Ada in RE6. I'm in my right to write him the way I want and you are free to share your opinion about it, so I won't delete your review. But I'd suggest you stop offending fellow readers, hiding in anonymity. That's just mean.