Chapter 36: A New Offer

"You lose your way, just take my hand

You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again

Don't look too far, right where you are, that's where I am

I'm your man…"

-Lana Del Rey

As Wesker pulled away from the small, ranch house, he felt a devious smile curve his lips. It had been easier than he had originally thought to bargain and get what he wanted. He was a man that was used to getting whatever he desired, but he never dreamed this particular task would be near effortless. As he drove, he began to think of his next endeavor. Would it be as simple as this? He didn't think so. He was after all dealing with a bull-headed, unyielding woman this time, instead of a mere hillbilly with a knack for farming. The smile faded from his lips as he cruised down the road toward Mrs. Frederic Downing's house…

It had been a little over three days since Raccoon City had been ripped out from underneath Claire. She truly felt that that way; that it had been pulled out from under her and she had crashed to the cold, hard ground. She had done nothing but drink and sob. She'd cry for hours upon hours until the exhaustion of the tears would finally thrust her into sleep. She couldn't believe she had come so close to achieving her ultimate goal. She had practically smelled the sweet Arklay Mountain air, tasted the delectable bacon-double cheeseburger from Emmy's, and heard the sounds of bustling street corners, when boom! It had been gone as fast as lightening struck. Claire herself felt a bit like she had been struck by a bolt lightening. All her strength had been drained. She could do nothing but sulk in her office, cry, and drink her brandy which often didn't help and only intensified her already-fragile emotional state.

Leon, Angela, and Amma had all tried to comfort her and get her to come out of the office she had secluded herself in. But she was often mean and snippy with them. She'd tell them to leave her alone and she didn't care what they had to say when they'd tried to get her to come out to eat. She hadn't really had a full meal for the last three days. She'd pick on little snacks Amma and Angela would leave for her. But mostly she filled up on brandy and bad thoughts.

Even Leon couldn't ease the agony. In fact, he only made it worse because Claire had begun to finally feel guilty for all her wrongdoings. She felt a million times worse about Fred; figuring she lost Raccoon because karma was finally coming around to claim her. She had even admitted to herself that it had been wrong for her to demand Leon to stay here just so she could selfishly have him around her. She had rendered him weak and pathetic and he and his family would be better off away from here. Now she was just like him; a shell, a ghost of her former self. She felt so pitiful and weak. She knew deep down that she needed to get out of this depressive slump. But it was all too fresh still and she wasn't sure how.

She figured she was feeling the wrath of God. She knew she was going to hell when she died and she knew all her loved ones that had passed on before her were looking down in shame. All the harrowing and fearful emotions she had been feeling when Frederic first died had been reinforced; strengthen by this whole ordeal. She had her crazy illusions about burning in hell for what she had done; that this was somehow divine intervention keeping her from what she desired most. At times she felt truly sorry for herself, others she strongly felt this is exactly what she deserved. She had deceived and cheated her way to the top; to selfishly gain things and for what – nothing now. And she would surely pay in the end when she met her maker. The absurdity of it all wasn't registering. Claire was regressing to her childlike fears of death and hell. Fears that had been instilled in her brain when she was much younger.

Claire felt lower than dirt. She hadn't been this depressed in years. She tried telling herself that she needed to pick herself up and trudge forward like she had before. But her strength and resilience felt totally destroyed. She wasn't sure how to move on from here. Before she had had something worth fighting for. Now that thing was unobtainable and she didn't know how to accept it and get over it. She thought about fighting that man, Charles Hamilton, for her land. But she wasn't even sure how to go about doing all that. She couldn't afford a lawyer, even though she was now 25,000 dollars richer. She supposed that was the only upside to the whole situation. But what good was money now? There was nothing more she truly wanted to spend it on than that sacred land she so loved. But fighting for it now felt totally exhausting. She had fought for so damn long!

Whenever drunken sleep did claim her, it wasn't a peaceful escape as it should have been. Claire's reoccurring, horrific nightmare had amplified; becoming more and more sinister every time she closed her eyes. She'd be running through the mist and she'd hear the moans and whispered voices of those who had passed on. She'd get closer and closer to something that she just couldn't grasp and she always felt cold and hungry. Whatever was hidden by the thick cloud of mist was something she profoundly needed. She didn't know if it was Leon, Raccoon City, Chris – but there was something concealed that she felt the compelling urge to reach out for. It was almost as if she needed it to survive. That all the terror, hunger, and confusion she felt would melt away if she could just get to whatever was hidden from view.

Claire would often awake with a shriek and bolt upright; perspiration forming on in beads on her face. She'd be quivering, her heartbeat erratic, her breathing unsteady and bated. She'd taste the salt of her tears mixing with the sweat upon her face. She often couldn't go back to sleep after awakening. It was such an unexplainable, vague kind of horror. But she couldn't deny the nightmare certainly took a big toll on her. Sometimes she even feared going to sleep. The whole thing was just a terrifying reminder of all she had suffered through. It made her feel vulnerable and utterly afraid.

After a day of drinking brandy and moping around the office, Claire heard the sound of a car pull up outside. She glanced at the clock and saw it was 5:45pm. Leon would surely still be at the store, Angela had been napping, and Amma had already been at the house. Claire got the impression that no one really liked being around her right now, and they all seemed pretty cautious when talking to her lately. Amma and Angela normally stayed in the kitchen cooking, cleaning, and chatting with one another.

Leon had been staying long hours at the store claiming he was very busy with the new inventory. Claire knew he just didn't want to be home. Leon was a horrible salesman and he knew it. He had tried comforting Claire once by giving her a hug and saying she had too much inner strength to wilt that easily. He said she'd figure it out like she always did and then he was gone. She hadn't seen him since and that was two days ago. He hadn't done much to ease her despair. And now she felt a surge of guilt flood her whenever she looked into his sad, gray gaze.

Angela didn't seem to know what to say. She'd cry along with Claire sometimes and much to Claire's surprise, it did feel quite comforting; having someone share in the agony with her. They'd often clutch onto one another and sob. Angela would constantly say how much she too missed Raccoon and that there had to be something they could do.

Amma tried to add reassuring words of her own by telling Claire there were ways to fight it and still try. Claire felt utterly worn-out when she thought of what fighting for it would truly entail. All in all, no one had really convinced her that everything would be ok. She wasn't surprised by that. She had stopped relying on others to make her feel better ages ago. Claire relied on Claire. But she had been pushed over the edge this time and was having trouble saving herself from all the negative thoughts and anguish. She tried to say "I won't think of this all now, I'll think about it tomorrow", and focus on other things. But that charming little phrase, which had been so prominent in her past, wasn't working either. She was broken and had lost herself. Who could fix her and who could find her if she couldn't even do either herself?

Claire moved toward the window and saw a black, shiny sportscar resting in the driveway. Definitely not Leon in the Nissan, Claire thought. And it definitely wasn't Amma's station wagon. Claire was too buzzed to really care and ponder who it could be any further. She had just gotten to the stage of drunk that she really enjoyed. She felt calm and her insides felt warmly blanketed. Her head felt light and fuzzy but without feeling spiny. That normally came later after another glass or two. Then the nausea would settle in, but right now she felt very relaxed. Still, that didn't put a hold on the depression. Tears came and went; flowing as freely as a brook. Her heart always felt heavy and intaking breaths stung. Her head was a whirlwind of saddening thoughts and hopeless possibilities.

Suddenly, she jumped up and found herself stumbling toward the window again. She nearly lost her balance and tripped drunkenly twice. She squinted at the gleaming sportscar. She knew who drove a car like that.

"Great balls of fire!" she hiccupped. "It's Wesker."

Once Claire realized who her mysterious visitor was, she hid the half-drunk bottle of brandy in the bottom drawer. She put her hand up to her mouth and blew into it, flinching as her breath hit her nostrils and the strong aroma of liquor bounced back at her. She didn't know what he wanted, but Claire would not grant him the opportunity to mock her. She didn't want him to know she was tipsy for he would surely try to take advantage of that and make a fool of her.

"Claire?" Angela's soft voice broke through Claire's thoughts. A tiny knock was then heard on the other side of the office's door.

"What?" Claire murmured as she dug through her desk to find breath mints or gum.

"You have a visitor hon."

"Just a moment." she called back, failing to keep her voice steady and calm. Her eyes frantically scanned the room till she came across an old bottle of perfume. She kept it in there on drinking nights to dull the strong scent of her brandy. Everyone in the house knew Claire drank and she was not ashamed of her love of liquor. But sometimes she didn't want anyone to know just how much she had. She spritzed herself and then waved her hands repeatedly in the air to clear it. She cringed as she opened her mouth and sprayed the perfume on her tongue to disguise her breath as well. She normally kept mints in the drawer but she must have run out. She stifled a gag, wiped at her teary eyes, hiccupped and then opened the door, attempting to wear the mask of indifference that normally belonged to Wesker.

Her eyes landed immediately on him when she opened the door. He was dressed in a dark blue muscle t-shirt and black pants and boots. The shirt was tightly-fitted and Claire's eyes unwillingly traced the edges of his sculpted arms and chest. His black sunglasses sat atop his pointed nose, while that infamous apathetic look was plastered to his strongly-structured face. His scent which always rattled Claire, enveloped the air around her, satisfying her senses. She breathed it in and went somewhere else in her head for a moment. It was a nostalgic smell that brought her back in time to no where in particular. But she liked feeling like she was in the past again. Even if she wasn't sure what part of the past. It felt like the light, happy parts and she found herself smiling. That scent would always be enchanting.

"It was good to see you again, Captain Wesker." Angela said and smiled before turning to leave. Wesker nodded toward her politely and then she was gone. Claire was surprised Angela hadn't thrown a sympathetic, pouty look her way upon leaving.

"May I come in, dearheart?" Wesker asked in his deep, emotionless voice.

"I don't see how you have the audacity to face me." Even in all her grief and sorrow, Claire hadn't forgotten her last shameful encounter with Wesker. She had sworn she was done with him and she intended on keeping her word. Well, she'd try at least. She hadn't much energy to even argue these days. "What do you want?"

He walked in passed her and she rolled her eyes at his abruptness. But as she slowly closed the door, she suddenly didn't feel the urge to fight him. The buzz in her head was making her unsteady so she sat down. It was probably also due to her drunkenness that she was letting go so easily. She should want to tell him off, scream at him, and banish him from her home, her life. But she had no will to even fight against Wesker at this point. That was how feeble a person she had become.

Upon entering the room, Wesker grimaced at the overpowering sweet scent governing the air. He saw a bottle of some kind of perfume poking out from inside a half-opened drawer and he felt a smirk touch his lips.

"It's no use Claire,"

"What?" she said, jerking her head up to look at him.

"The perfume," he gestured toward the drawer.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"I mean you've been drinking brandy, quite a lot." Claire felt her heart sink. He always knew everything.

"So what if I have," she caved. "Is that any of your business?"

"Don't drink alone Claire, people always find out and it ruins their reputation." he chuckled. She felt confused at his words.

Suddenly she wanted to cry. This had been happening a lot the last few days. She'd be having a normal conversation about something completely unrelated to her troubles, and the out of nowhere feel a lump in her throat and tears blinding her vision. She had been giving into her sorrow far more than normal and right now was no exception. She wanted to cry in front of Wesker. And for some reason, she felt totally at ease doing so. He had already seen her at her lowest, most shameful and vulnerable, what did she care anymore? And Wesker had this way about him. He had a lot of strength and so when Claire faltered around him, it was actually quite comforting for he always knew what to say somehow. It was the most bizarre recollection but it was certainly true. He had been there for her countless times while she was sobbing or on the verge. And he just knew how to handle it. It was a pleasant change to have someone around for once that could take charge, someone that didn't crack under the strain of another's emotions. Especially right now when she felt so hollow inside; completely gutted of her former inner-strength.

"What is it?" Wesker inquired as he noticed Claire crying into her hand. "This is more than losing old Frederic, isn't it?" he added jeeringly.

"Oh Wesker!" she cried. His words, while normally would have angered her, only added to her grief and pierced her with guilt. "I'm so afraid."

"I don't believe it," he said. "You've never been afraid in your life."

"I'm afraid now," she spoke through her thick throat. "I'm afraid of dying and going to hell."

She finally spoke it aloud. It didn't sound as absurd as she sometimes tried to convince herself it did. It actually frightened her more to really say it. The drunkenness was settling over her fully now, blotting out sensibility, the ability to argue, or any prior anger she may have still had left toward Wesker. Right now, she actually needed him. She had never breathed a word of how she was feeling about her guilt and her own death to anyone until now.

"You look pretty healthy," he said sarcastically. "And maybe there isn't any hell."

"Oh, there is!" she hiccupped. "I know there is, I was brought up on it."

"Well far be it from me to question the teachings of childhood." he replied nonchalantly.

"I know there's a heaven for the good people like my mother, Chris, Jill, and Steve." She went on, crying between in each word. "And then there's a hell for people like me."

"So, you were brought up on these beliefs, yet you probably have not stepped foot in a church once in the last five years or more, and now you're only worrying, why pray tell? Tell me what you've done that hell yawns before you."

He sounded amused and Claire knew he was mocking her but she didn't care. It really was a tremendous relief to finally unload everything and speak of her genuine fears and deep guilt. Wesker sat down on a chair directly in front of her and waited. Claire continued to weep as she explained.

"I should have never married Fred to begin with. He was Tara's and he loved her and not me. And I made him miserable and eventually killed him. Yes, I did! I killed him!" she cried. Admitting everything aloud was really stabbing at her heart. Every word sliced deeper and deeper and the tears were nonstop now. She felt like such a horrible person. She deserved what had happened with Raccoon City. This was God punishing her and he'd continue into death.

Wesker was truly amused but he tried his best to suppress his laughter. However, he couldn't help the smirk that had now taken over his face. He never saw Claire as the religious type and he knew deep down she wasn't. Her fears mixed with guilt were bringing her mind back to a childlike state of fear. A fear so preposterous it was quite comical. Claire was such a sharp, bold girl. To hear her going on about heaven, hell, and God's punishments was quite out-of-place. He himself followed no religion, choosing instead to believe in something of his own free will. Still, he tried to listen and intake everything she was saying. But he knew her better than she knew herself. He knew what it all stemmed from but he'd wait and hear her out.

"Wesker, for the first time I'm finding out what it's like to feel sorry for things that I've done wrong." she went on, her voice breaking on every word through tears and drunken hiccups.

"Here," he said pulling a couple tissues from the box that sat next to him on the desk and handing them to her. "Dry your eyes."

She took them and blotted at her eyes and runny nose. She was back in that state of total hopelessness and it was very hard to come back from. Funny how when Wesker had first arrived, she was going to try her best to keep herself from being swallowed up by these dreadful emotions. She was going to hate him and yell at him to leave her alone. Now here she was spilling her guts to him about things she never thought she'd tell another living soul. Even Leon hadn't heard any of this and she had longed to share her fears with him. She yearned for his comfort. But right now, she was settling for Wesker's. It was as if that shameful exchange between them just days earlier hadn't even happened. Claire was pretty surprised at how content and relaxed she felt sobbing her brains out and admitting her deepest most inner thoughts to Wesker. But he could be very easy to talk to at times. This is why they had bonded when he would visit the store. They often had deep talks that no one else would quite understand. She thought about telling him about Raccoon as well. But she couldn't stop crying and she knew that would only make it worse.

"Look Claire, do you regret marrying Frederic?" Wesker asked, bringing Claire's dazed mind back into reality. She sniffled as she thought about how to answer him.

"Well…I mean I- "

"No, you don't," Wesker interjected. "You don't because marrying him brought you security, a roof over your head, and a lot more including TerraSave, the demise of Umbrella and more security on B.O.W research. Let me ask you this, did you have an alternative to marrying him?"

"No." she admitted numbly. She truly hadn't had another option at the time. They all would have been homeless and starved, possibly even died.

"He didn't have to marry you, did he?" Wesker went on, a seriousness in his tone that was rare. "Men are free agents. And he didn't have to let you bully him into doing things he didn't want to do, did he?"

"Well- "

"Claire, why worry about it?" he asked solemnly. "If you had to do it over again, you'd do no differently. You'd be driven to the lies and he to marrying you. You would have still run yourself into danger and he would have had to avenge you. If he had married good ole Tara, I don't know if she would have caused his death, but I assure you she would have made him ten times unhappier than you ever did. The bottom line is it couldn't have happened any differently."

"But…well I mean I could have been nicer to him, Wesker."

"Yes, you could have been- if you were somebody else." Wesker retorted with a small laugh. But for once he didn't sound like he was mocking her, at least not entirely. He seemed like he was genuinely trying to make her understand. It was comforting to have someone on her side.

"You were born to bully anyone who'll let you do it. The strong were made to bully while the weak falter under. It's ole Frederic's fault for not being a man and putting you in your place."

Claire's crying and seized but the sticky tear tracks, reminders of her grief, stained her cheeks as she sniffled. She stared numbly at Wesker, feeling tired from all the exhaustion of sobbing so roughly.

"I'm surprised at you Claire, sprouting a conscience this late in life." he added with a smirk. Claire rolled her eyes. She was slowly but surely fading back to normal. She still felt drunk but she was more tired than anything else now. Once she had gotten everything off her chest, it felt nice to just sit and soak up the remainder of the sadness in tranquil stillness.

"Like I said Claire, if you had to do it over again, you'd do no differently." his masculine voice brought Claire from her thoughts. She knew he was right about everything but she wished he wasn't. "You're like the thief who isn't the least bit sorry he stole, but he's terribly, terribly sorry he's going to jail."

"What's your point?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as her resistance toward him began to return.

"My point is you should have no regrets about any of it, my pet. Your wickedness, determination, and strength are much to be admired. I hope you'll remember that."

She said nothing and tried to drink in what he saying and take the compliments he was bestowing upon her. But she still felt like a horrible person. Here was Albert Wesker telling her she wasn't, telling her what she had told herself all along through her marriage to Fred: it had to be done. She sighed, yes perhaps it had.

"Since you've seemed to relent from your state of hysteria, I shall change the subject and inquire about what my true intentions are on coming here today."

"Oh?" Claire asked, vaguely interested. She rose from her chair and stumbled over to the window. Wesker laughed inwardly as he knew she was still a little tipsy. But he still intended on saying everything today.

"What is it?" she pressed as she spun around. Her tears and sobs were now gone. She felt better and she had to admit it had been Wesker who had done that. Somehow his words and sunken through and she felt okay for the time being. The guilt and depression were gone for now at least, and curiosity and confusion swept into their place. She wiped at her sticky cheeks and blew her nose. Yes, there was still plenty of evidence of her hysterical episode. But she felt a million had indeed felt better. This is how it had been for three days straight. Her bipolar episodes were so unpredictable; coming out of nowhere. One minute she was manic and crying uncontrollably, the next she was calm and trying to rid herself of the negativity.

"I must say that I can't go on any longer without you Claire." Wesker said unperturbedly. Claire felt her confusion grow. How could he say such a meaningful statement in such a meaningless, dull way?

"Are you really going to play games with me right now, after witnessing my breakdo- "

"I made up my mind that you were the only woman for me Claire the first time I saw you at the RPD all those years ago."

Claire stood completely dumbfounded. She didn't know whether or not to believe him. He lied so much. He had told her before he had loved and then had kissed her very passionately. But Albert Wesker was incapable of caring for another. He certainly did not love. And there's no way in the world he would actually love her of all people. So, what was he getting at?

"Now that you've got some money behind you, you won't come to me as you did at the police station."

Claire outwardly winced at the mention of that shameful day.

"So, I see I shall have to marry you."

Claire felt her mind spin as she tried to comprehend what he had just said. Albert Wesker…marriage…her. Had those words actually been part of the same sentence? None of it made any sense. Maybe this was all part of some hilarious joke to make her feel better. Or perhaps it was another ploy to make a fool of her. She could never truly tell with him. He masked not only his emotions, eyes, and tone of voice very well, but his intentions were often shrouded in mystery. It all annoyed Claire to no end.

"Please stop with your jokes and leave me alone now."

"Would you feel more convinced if I fell to my knees?" he said and took her hands as he knelt down before her on one knee. There was a sarcastic, flirtation wavering in his tone now and Claire didn't know how to take it. She just knew he couldn't be nice for very long. After making her feel so much better, now he was angering her.

"Get your hands off of me you jerk and get out of here!" she screeched as she tried to pull her hands from his, but he was too strong.

"Forgive me for startling you with the impetuosity of my sentiments my dear Claire, I mean my dear Mrs. Downing," he said, clearly amused. Now she knew he was jesting. This was the most personality she had ever seen him emanate. He had turned on a charming, poetic voice to go with the sarcastic words. She had to admit it was quite amusing. But she wouldn't fall for his tricks.

"but it cannot have escaped your notice that for some time past, the friendship I have felt for you has ripened into a deeper feeling. A feeling more beautiful, more pure, more sacred…dare I name it, can it be love?"

She glanced down at him and noticed a sly, sarcastic grin lighting his handsome face. Who knew Albert Wesker could be charming and funny? But she refused to laugh or even crack a grin at him. She knew he was always out to make fun of her.

"Get up off your knees you idiot!" she barked irritably and shook her hands that were still trapped within his own. "I don't like your sarcastic jokes."

He stood up, towering over Claire at his full height and chuckled as he dropped her hands back into her control.

"This is an honorable proposal of marriage," he said, back to his usual dulcet tone. "made at what I consider a most opportune moment." He then took hold of her chin and titled her head upward so she was forced to look at him.

"I can't go all my life waiting to catch you between husbands." he chortled again and she threw his hand downward, away from her.

"And what is that supposed to mean? I've been married to one man and I will never, ever make that mistake again. I think this conversation has gone far enough." She scooted passed him as if the conversation were over.

"You will marry again," he cooed and followed her until she could feel his body right behind hers. "and you'll marry me."

"You?" she questioned and spun around to face him. "You! I don't love you!" she hooted and scowled at him.

"That didn't stop you before." He smiled, revealing his perfect, white teeth. "Did you ever think of marrying just for fun?" he said, no hint of emotion could be found in his voice this time.

"Marriage fun? Fiddle-dee-dee, fun for men you mean." she said with a shift of her eyes.

"Oh, pray tell how." he said once again with a playful grin. He was so damn bipolar it was bizarre. The whole conversation was bizarre. She felt her face go red.

"Never mind, can you please leave?"

"You were married to a fool who had no idea how to handle a spitfire like you. Why not try a husband with a way with women?" he titled his head, the smile still alight on his chiseled face.

"You are so arrogant!" she sputtered. She was then immediately distracted when she realized how close they stood; their abdomens brushing up against one another. His scent filled her nose again and she nearly closed her eyes to drift away and indulge in it completely. No. She wouldn't let him get ahold of her. He already was killing her buzz and messing with her mind. He may have had attractive qualities but Wesker was a very devious man.

"You're a fool Albert Wesker, proposing to me honorably as you claim," she finally spoke after a minute had passed by. "when you know I'll always love another man."

She saw his face change at that moment. He frowned but it wasn't the normal one he always wore. He had looked genuinely angry. She felt satisfied as she knew bringing up Leon would surely make him mad and bring an end to the conversation. What she hadn't expected was for him to yank her so roughly to him that she almost fell over. She had attempted to turn and walk away from him with a satisfied smirk upon her face. The next thing she knew she was in Wesker's arms. He was holding her almost painfully tight against himself. She could feel his rock-hard chest against her. She felt her eyes grow wide with alarm. She hadn't expected this reaction at all.

"Stop it!" he demanded, his voice louder than she ever heard it. There was genuine, raw anger in that tone and on his face. "You hear me Claire, stop it! No more of that talk."

And before that order could even register in her whirling brain, his lips were on hers. It was a rough kiss. Not like the passionate one had given her last time. This kiss was so brutal. His lips were crushing hers hard enough to bruise the delicate, pink flesh. She struggled against his firm hold and attempted to push him off her. But for reasons she wouldn't understand for years to come, Claire felt weak in her knees, and she truly but secretly wanted more.

A/N: So, I may start opening and/or closing certain chapters with either song lyrics or poem quotes if I feel it's fitting. I am a huge Lana Del Rey fan and have been listening to her nonstop lately. Her songs are very inspiring to me. So you may notice a lot of her quotes. She has this really unique way of describing what it's like to be in love. She's relatable and I love how she writes her own lyrics and says whatever she feels.

Anyway, I hope you guys like this one and it doesn't seem too rushed. I'm most excited about these upcoming parts so stayed tuned! And please review if you are enjoying. The reviews are def what keep me going! 3 Thank you. -Brandi