176 pages later and the story is finished. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, and it's NOT too late to review. You all know that I'm aiming to continue this once I get my hands on Resident Evil 5, but I won't make promises. That's months away. Tell me what you thought of my little trilogy, and I'll be delighted. Maybe you have some ideas about what to improve, what you liked, or questions that you'd like answered in the next possibly sequel…lol. Love to you all!!!!!

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Chapter 50: Home

Someone was pounding on the front door and Chris hurriedly threw pants on over his boxers as he half jumped, half fell out of bed. He had received a phone call two days before, and his heart leapt with excitement. Claire. He sprinted down the stairs and whipped the door open to meet expectant blue eyes and red hair.

"Claire!" He threw his arms around her, and Claire almost laughed at his enthusiasm. "You're back!" Claire hugged him and then gently forced his arms off of her.

"Relax," she joked. "I swear I'm not about to disappear. Take it easy." Chris stepped back to examine her. She was wearing solid black and even had sunglasses tucked into her front pocket.

"Sheesh, sis," he laughed. "You almost look like…" Claire stared at him. "You know, Wesker." For a moment, he could have sworn that pain flashed through Claire's eyes, but she quickly brushed it off.

"I guess I do," she mused. Chris leaned down to look directly in her eyes.

"Hey, stupid, what's wrong?" Claire smiled and stepped inside.

"Nothing. It's just been a long several weeks," she excused herself. "I have a lot of things to tell you." She moved into the living room and flopped onto the couch.

"Yeah, and I have a ton of questions to ask too," Chris said as he sat beside her. "But first off, are you okay? With the virus and everything? You left without telling me anything. I thought—shit, Claire, I was worried that the virus might kill you while you were off on your own. You have no idea how worried I've been." Claire sighed.

"I'm okay. I…" There was no easy or subtle way to say this, and she had promised herself to be as honest as possible with him. "Chris, I died." She stared at his blank face and waited for the comment to sink in. When it did, his eyes widened in shock.

"You mean…"

"I'm infected with something similar to what Wesker has," Claire explained. "In Russia, I died, and now I'm back. I had to leave to figure out how to deal with it." She lowered her eyes. "I hope you aren't too freaked out."

"Umm…kind of…but you look okay, and you're home. That's what's important to me. I love you, sis. I've had a lot of time to get used to the idea of you being infected since you left. Really, it doesn't mean anything to me." He watched Claire's eyes water and wondered what he had said wrong. "Hey, it's alright." He wrapped arms around her.

"You don't understand," Claire inhaled. "He didn't understand. This is what he couldn't offer. Gosh, it's like there's something missing everywhere now." Chris squeezed her reassuringly.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "You can tell me." Claire shook her head and eased away from his grip.

"I'm going to tell you something Chris, and you have to promise that you won't be angry. I'm putting an insane amount of trust in you by telling you this, and you can't take that lightly. Never take trust lightly." Chris looked into her eyes, and the sincere intensity there startled him. He could swear that there were gold flecks swimming in her irises, and her mouth was firm set.

"Okay. I promise."

"I went looking for the one person that could tell me what was happening to me," Claire blurted. Chris slowly turned his eyes to the floor and leaned forward to rest his chin in his hands. There was an extremely long stretch of silence that made Claire nervous, but Chris was not exploding. He simply had a dark expression.

"Did you find him?" he asked.

"Yes."

"So you're telling me that you went to the one man I hate more than anyone else for help instead of staying with me…?"

"Chris," Claire said, steady and defensively. "I'm telling you this because we have always told each other everything, and I hate keeping secrets from you. Yes, I went to Wesker, but only because I felt that I had to."

"And what happened then?" Chris angrily pressed. Claire knew that his frustrated tone meant that he was either accepting what she was saying or internally building into a bonfire.

"He explained the virus to me and showed me how to control it. Chris," she laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, "he actually helped me, even though that's hard for you to believe. And, if I hadn't gone, I might be in very bad shape right now. He also taught me to be careful, because people are going to be after me if I'm not cautious. You have to believe me, Chris. I'm not making this up, and I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you too, bro." Chris didn't move. He had to think about this, soak it in.

"But why would he help you, Claire?" he asked. "It doesn't make sense."

"I can't give you a complete answer to that," Claire honestly admitted. "I think that there were a lot of different reasons, but he's not very open about such things, as I'm sure you know." She paused, giving Chris's back a calculating stare as she mulled her thoughts over. "But, if you want to know my opinion…Chris, please keep calm." He turned to look at her, and she saw the confused pain in his eyes. Her heart ached. "Chris, there's some humanity left in that man. I've seen it, and I'm not saying that he's good or that I trust him, but he's not as cold as he seems."

"Claire, I can't believe that I'm hearing this. You know what he did to Stars and Raccoon City." Chris sat up straight and tightened his hands into fists. "But, Jill and I were talking, and, well, I know that you aren't as hateful toward him as I am. I just don't understand why or how, but you're home." He patted Claire's knee and she almost melted in gratitude.

"You're not going to disown me?" she tried to joke. "I know I've been keeping a lot hidden from you…"

"You're my sister," Chris assured, cutting her off. "Claire, there's a lot more to this story that I don't know, isn't there?" She nodded and Chris shook his head. "I can't believe this…I won't easily forget that you went to him of your own free will or that you're kind of defending him—hell, if I know how that's possible. God, this is maddening. Look, I'm sort of pissed about this." Claire glanced at him meaningfully. "Okay. I'm really pissed, but mostly because I don't get it. Anyway, I forgive you and just don't call him humane ever again."

"Chris," Claire said with a smile. "I'm really impressed. I half expected to be shot." Chris tried to calm his anger by forcing a laugh.

"Jill was very convincing, and maybe I can be a little hard on people. She keeps telling me that I have to work on my temper." They hugged each other again. "Just don't leave like this again, okay?"

"Agreed," Claire laughed.

"So what's with this virus thing? Did…did you get the help you needed?" In response, Claire stood and lifted Chris single-handed by the collar. "Whoa!" he gasped as she released him. "So you're like a superwoman now? Shit, my sister, wonder woman. Hey, I have something great to tell you!" And he told her about his new job and how he was being sent to Africa. Claire's face paled considerably at the idea, but she wouldn't explain why. She answered a fair number of questions concerning her new abilities and her fear of discovery and how she wasn't sure what to do anymore. Chris suggested that she find work with the government, but Claire kept her opinions on that to herself.

Overall, they spent the next few days enjoying each other's company, but Chris noticed changes in his sister. She perceived things about his mood that she hadn't before, and her eyes quickly darted to any new noise. Her movements were quick and graceful, and on the streets she sometimes paused and drew in deep breaths as if tasting the air. It was obvious that she had changed physically, but Chris also knew that something was different mentally. She sometimes adopted a distant expression that had not been as prevalent before Wesker entered her life, and sometimes she looked sad when certain subjects like betrayal, trust, or love were mentioned. Something was clearly eating at her, but Jill kept reminding him to keep his cool and allow her some privacy.

Claire never spoke about details of her experience with Wesker, although she mentioned that he liked spicy noodle bowls, which boggled Chris's mind. She kept her lips mostly sealed, Wesker never left her mind. She moved through the motions of her old life and tried not feel like something was missing, but she couldn't deny reality. She missed him. She missed him like she had never missed anyone before. She dreamed of his arms around her, and she woke up expecting to find him working nearby. She waited for his smartass comments and mocking voice to speak to her, but he was gone.

The first night she was too excited about seeing Chris again to cry, but the second night she lost control and wept, mostly because she was afraid that she might never regain what she had shared with Wesker now that she had abandoned him. What if he didn't forgive her? The thought tormented her almost as much as the thought that he might forget her. No, he wouldn't forget her, she decided. If she could only apologize to him maybe she could explain herself better.

Now she sat at the desk in her room, twiddling an envelope that had arrived for her. She had come to the full realization that she did, in fact, love Albert Wesker, at least most of her did. She sighed. The most that she could hope for was that in her parting words, he knew how much she regretted having to leave him.

"What's that?" Chris asked her as he stuck his head into her room. He was getting ready to leave for Africa, although he could not give Claire an exact location. The government was keeping the situation hush-hush.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Give me a moment and I'll be down to take you to the airport." Chris left and Claire gingerly peeled the letter open. There was no return address, only her name and apartment number printed in plain, bold letters. She looked inside to find a letter and a house key. Her heart did a somersault as she smoothed out the paper.

Dear Heart,

You know what it opens, and you're always welcome.

A.W.

Claire ran her nose over the paper. She could faintly smell him on its surface, and it brought back a need to be touched by him. She lifted the key and held it tightly in her hands. He knew. She smiled sadly. He knew. He knew. He knew. She strung the key onto the chain holding the dog tag as a reminder that she hadn't been scornfully discarded. He hadn't admitted defeat just yet—not that doing so was ever in his fashion. Maybe she'd put that key to use someday. Somewhere, in a forested valley, there was a second home waiting for her, and she gladly knew for certain that she had not seen the last of Albert Wesker.