A/N: Natus means "born." Even though I haven't updated the rest of the story yet, I owe you this.

Optio

Chapter 34: Natus

August 2, 2002, Friday 11: 53 AM

Sleepy-eyed, new, calm. Those were the only things I could say to describe the newborns that had been put into my arms. I wasn't sure why Al had left so suddenly the other day, but then I'd gotten a phone call at three in the morning telling me that the babies had entered the world. Sherry sat at the edge of my bed, nervous and anxious all at once as she watched me struggle to hold both of them. Liam slept peacefully after a full bottle while the still, unnamed girl fussed slightly. Knowing I couldn't possibly continue to hold them both alone I asked, "Sherry did you want to hold him?"

For a moment, she looked around, seeming confused that I'd ask her that question. For the last few months, she'd been nothing but helpful, and even though she would probably never completely forgive Al, she was showing more effort in restraining the worst of her thoughts for him in my presence. I was proud of her, to say the least. I watched her gingerly step up to take the baby boy from me, slowly taking him from my left arm. The fussy newborn that remained with me continued to resist my efforts to calm her, and as I lightly shushed and rocked her I became enchanted with the realization that both of them bore no resemblance to neither their father nor myself. Though they were perfect, possessing all fingers and toes, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous that the only tell of their parentage that existed were the fine, blond hairs that were slicked down on their heads. Their eyes were gray, almost colorless actually, and I wondered to myself when they'd appear more like us. They weren't like the fat, little cherubs depicted in art or that I'd been seeing online lately, but instead, they were small and already appearing to be built for success in many areas.

Something about them seemed older, wiser, and the girl's fussing sounded as though it came from a place of great concern rather than general discomfort. Every now and then she'd look me directly in my eyes, continuing to babble on as I felt guilty in not being able to give her what she needed. Sherry knew nothing about babies, and neither did I. Liam gave a short cry, seemingly startling the blonde woman that was learning as she went.

While staring at them, I saw Jack's head as he attempted to peek into the bedroom, and just as he'd attempted to disappear I ushered for him to come in. I knew that "normal" babies needed time to acquire an actual immune system, but I didn't think that this situation was normal. He looked more afraid than either of us. After a while though, we'd all felt a little more comfortable with handling them, all trying different methods of calming the unnamed girl.

As she continued to fuss, threatening a full-throated scream at any second, Jack paced the room, holding her in front of him, bouncing her slightly and speaking to her as though she'd respond. "Please don't cry again. We'll figure something out. A name? Is that what you want?"

Sherry smirked from the chaise lounge in the corner, seeming grateful that she was handling the "good child."

"How about Sarah?"

I thought back to Red Lodge. "Hell no!" I said loudly.

"Okay, how about Rebecca?"

"God, love her, but no." I leaned back on my bed, realizing that I wouldn't have been alone in this. I'd wondered if Al would've had time to be a father, but Jack was coming in a close second, and Sherry was seemingly at ease.

"Annabelle."

She began to fuss a bit more at this.

"Jack," I began, now frowning, "give me my baby."

His head shot around to glare at me. "I'm getting the hang of it. She's gonna tell me which name she likes."

Suddenly, the mood of the room had changed, and because I'd known him so well, I knew that it was because of my husband.

Unperturbed, Jack continued bouncing the infant. "Hey, boss."

Silently, he crossed over to Jack who handed over the baby without prompt. Then, it was like magic had been performed before our eyes. The baby had quieted.

In her corner, Sherry raised her brow, impressed.

"Damn," Jack breathed. "Baby Whisperer." As he began to walk towards the doorway he threw out, "Don't get too excited. She's as fussy as her mom."

While Al's back was still turned, I quickly flipped Jack the bird, drawing a chuckle from Sherry.

That smile lingered on the young woman, even when she handed Liam over to me and excused herself.

Before coming back over to the bed, Al had locked the bedroom door, signaling that it was safe for me to remove the shirt that I'd been wearing, and he'd temporarily handed me the girl so that he could do the same.

She threatened him with a short cry of disapproval but quieted once he'd sat next to me against the headboard, lying her against his bare chest. Honestly, I hadn't expected him to take part in the skin to skin bonding, but I was pleasantly surprised that he did. For the slightest moment, I'd expected his departure after dropping them off to be indicative of how he'd handle fatherhood.

Amazed, I stared at the two of them, almost wanting to cry in disbelief and joy. "That's the first time that she's been this quiet." My voice was low, just in case she decided that she would rather continue to gain the wrong attention.

He looked over to Liam and me, his mouth relaxed so that he could've smiled. "She feels safe. Like her mother."

I smiled.

"Have you found a name for her?"

I remembered the suggestions of Sherry, the ability that Al seemingly had to quiet the crying bundle with the assurance of his presence, and I realized that he was right. "Haven. Haven Seraphina."

His brow raised, and I knew that I would have to offer an explanation for something so… different.

"You're her safe haven. And Seraphina because she's fiery."

He gave a soft chuckle. Then, he became serious once more, his usual demeanor. "Is this what you wanted?"

For a moment, I thought about all that we currently had, but the reminder of what we didn't weighed heavily on me: Chris. "I need what we had in Italy. Then it'll all be perfect." My confession was one that I had been afraid to make; I didn't wish to come off as ungrateful to him. "What do you want?" Though afraid of the answer, I had no intention of coming off as selfish towards a man that had started off so, only to be transformed into someone that had apparently been giving and giving at his own peril.

His reluctance to answer was a bit frightening, eventually, though, he licked his lips and looked to the wall across from him, adjusting a sleeping Haven so slightly that she didn't stir. "Of course, I want that as well, but I also need what is rightfully mine." I'd never intended to have this conversation with him while we held our newborns, but it had to come one day.

My teeth clenched, I almost seethed, "You're going to be caught in a never-ending cycle if you don't let it go."

"My existence has centered around this since I was eighteen."

Bitterly laughing, I bit back with, "Well, you're not eighteen anymore, Al. You have people that are depending on you. Me. Sherry. Haven and Liam. Even Jack. All of us are depending on you."

His brow furrowed into a frown. Had he not been holding his baby girl, he would've stormed off by now.

"I can't lose you," I whispered. "I wanted this because of you. Because I love you."

His head shot in my direction, blinking slowly. His hand fell to the bed between us, open.

In response, I fought back tears, sliding my own hand over to his, feeling him squeeze lightly as the two incarnations of our love rested none the wiser to the display of turmoil that they'd been born into. The future could only be brighter when he stopped.

February 10, 2003, Monday 11: 37 PM

Over the past six months, there had been tension between Al and myself, so much that there was no real fear of us having a third child the natural way. Jack had felt it, Sherry had felt it, but the babies had no idea because, in their presence, we were us again. It didn't bother me that Al was sleeping in the office in the basement anymore, and he did his part in getting up from his business to care for the babies when I needed a break. Though we'd loved each other still, we just saw things very differently. During a particularly brutal quarrel that took place in front of Sherry and Jack in November, a sad and troubling truth had come out about me that he could have sprung on me more gently and in a more private manner.

"Your life is Umbrella," I said with a scoff, seasoning the turkey that Sherry had just unpackaged.

It was unexpected, almost like a sucker punch when he suddenly quipped, "Some of us have ambitions and don't seek fulfillment in the most mundane of things." He'd walked out then.

Jack had muttered, "Not cool at all," but kept any other opinions on the matter to himself.

Sherry had been the one to come over to comfort me, fearing that this would be the moment in which I broke down.

This wasn't how I pictured things to be half a year in. The twins were already causing me to panic as they developed twice as fast as normal babies and Al's promise that it would slow seemed to be a lie to make me feel better at this point. They were walking, babbling, and eating solids now. Breastfeeding was coming to an end as they developed all of their incisors, making it painful for me to continue, but I felt as though I was the one that was weaning from breastfeeding them. I had felt that I had held onto that for too long, sure, but I also felt that it should have been excused since I missed out on carrying them. Perhaps I had found myself resenting Al in more and more ways as well. He had ambitions and motivation, he had the full experience of his half of parenthood, but I was here feeling less than fulfilled.

He was right.

I stared down at Haven who'd sprouted fine, curly hair that was just to her shoulders, excitedly standing on the tips of her toes saying, "Ma-Ma, Ma-Ma, Ma-Ma!"

"Yes?" I asked.

Her blue eyes, full of mischief twinkled as her smile grew wider, and she padded off to the other side of the living room to join Liam who was currently abusing his set of blocks.

Sherry came to join me on the sofa, smiling happily at the toddlers that required less and less supervision as the days drew on. After a while, she finally looked to me, the concern now evident. "How are you two doing?"

Inhaling deeply, I just kept staring at the toddlers, thankful that even though Liam already possessed his father's stoicism, he looked more like me as his hair darkened. "Can you imagine how pissed I'd be right now if both of them looked just like him?"

"So, nothing?" She looked apologetic. Frankly, I felt as though she should have been sorry; she'd been closer to Al than I had lately. She said that she was doing it for me, in hopes of talking him into being easier on me and forgiving my expected desire to keep him alive and free. One moment, she was reporting back to me, –not that there was much to report- then, she was just perfecting her unfinished combat training, and then, she was down in the basement with him. Sherry was showing that at some point, he was, in fact, her Uncle Albert.

I bit my lip then. It wasn't her fault that I'd become someone that was now okay with sitting on the sidelines, and that rather than search for a purpose other than being a housewife, I had continued to subject myself to that fate as though it were etched in stone somewhere.

With a conjured tone of disappointment, she attempted to get out, "He's such a jack-"

"He's right," I said clearly.

I was sure that her eyes had almost popped out of her head at my admission. "Claire, no-"

"I can't keep not doing anything Sherry. I've never had a sense of direction in my life, and now that I'm here, it's showing."

"You have your children."

"Until they're not children."

She just sat there, unable to figure out how to counter the revelation that eventually, I'd be nothing more than a family pillar. For some, that was okay, but when you were married to a man that wanted the world, you didn't just sit back and accept baking as a comparison. "I'm gonna go for a walk," I whispered.

"I'll come," she started to get up. "Let me get my jacket and tell Jack to watch them."

My hand raised to stop her, I said, "No, no. I just need a minute to myself is all."

Rather than argue, she took the hint and sat back into the sofa. "It's way past their bedtime anyway. They're just up because they took an extra nap."

So I'd set out in the dark, guided by the intense shine of the moon. Town wasn't far, and I could see the street lights growing closer as I continued on my way. Claire, what do you want, I asked myself over a thousand times since that day in November. Al is what I wanted. The babies and this family is what I wanted. Then, forbidden possibilities that had nested long ago began to hatch, rustling in their bedding that had accumulated cobwebs due to an unrelenting abandonment that I could never ease. What if Al died in his pursuit? What if he died and the children grew up one day, learning everything about their father from others?

Even if that didn't happen, what if they left me? What was I supposed to do then? Had my purpose been carried out by that point? I inhaled deeply, inviting the rush of the cool, night air, a luxury only made possible because of my husband's sacrifices for me. For us. With a sigh, I vowed to myself that I would find my purpose in this world, but before I set out to do that I needed to make things right. I turned on my heel, determination in my step, but as I stepped forward, something pulled my body back. Before I get out an exclamation of any kind, I felt a gag being pulled into my open mouth, followed by a bag being pulled down over my head.

As I attempted to struggle I could hear someone say in a hushed voice, "Poyekhali!" What language was that?

As I worked to free my arms, fully confident in my ability to defend myself from past encounters, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, and my body began to go limp. If sounds could blur, that's what happened, and I didn't awake for what felt like days after binge drinking for a month.

I heard the sound of water dripping, rusted doors screeching against a hard floor, and then I dared to open my eyes. Faced with the image of myself in a dirty mirror of smeared fingerprints and what looked like old blood, I wanted to scream. My face… Dried blood had caked on my cheek, telling that it had been a lot. A streak had also marked my forehead, the stream disappearing at my nose, and when I looked down at my jeans I saw that it had ended there. I jerked my arms to no avail, realizing that they were held in place by cuffs that were set into the uncomfortable, iron chair. The cry that I'd suppressed almost broke free of me when I tried my legs next, finding that they had also been bound to the chair.

I looked back up into what could only be a two-way mirror, shaking a loose strand of hair from my face as I snarled in rage. From my gut, I shouted, "Whoever you are, you're making a huge mistake!" The sound of chains rattled behind me, and I saw the reflection of them dangling from a ceiling so high, that it earned no reflection of its own. "Do you know who I am?!" I demanded, met with nothing but the cold of the concrete room. "Do you know who my husband is?!" I tugged in futility at the restraints once more.

Then, I heard a click coming from an intercom on my left. "Da." For a few seconds, I heard nothing, until I'd thought that that was all I would be given. Then, the Russian accent once more filled the room, echoing with what I recognized as glee. "That is exactly why you are here, Mrs. Wesker."

The sound of a door opening to my left pulled my attention away from the mirror, and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach at the sight of the man that came through the door.

No. No. No.

A/N: I finally did it! Shorter than what I had been providing in the past, but I did it! The time jump was the only way that it was going to happen, but I hope that this did something for you that have been waiting on this for… I'm ashamed to say how long! But, we have arrived at the moment where Claire is taken and we have a point to restart the engine at! So let me know what you all think and those of you that haven't, go check out Leave! It's not Optio, but will be Claire/Wesker interactions that make you think of Red Lodge… when they hated each other. I'm back and so is Optio! Whoo!