Here is your last reminder that I fucked up and posted the wrong chapter last week. Make sure you read "As Above So Below" chapter 17. There is A LOT of plot in there that you will need.

Okay, proceed!

Off hand comments so often send Jill's blood boiling these days, she claims it is the frustration of the waiting game she finds herself a player in. Afterall, knowing that a cure could finally be at hand is exhilarating enough to warrant stress. Yet, Mrs. Birkin insists that only time will tell if this concoction truly stand firm against the T-virus. She estimates no less than a fortnight to be certain, and even then, how it will react within a human test subject is even more up in the air.

What a truly cruel predicament God has put her in this time, the stress and weight of it all is practically unbearable. The result of this stress manifests itself in her terse tone and her tendency to fly off the handle at any minor inconvenience. Mia has given her more grace than she is due, always meeting her with a calm encouragement and a quote on perseverance or patience.

To those who know not the plot with which Jill is involved, however, she is uncharacteristically on edge and they have begun to vocalize their notice of her agitation. That to include the young Miss Redfield, who's recovery seems of little consequence to her brother. The head of the household insists that the cold is too harsh for the girl to bear and has ordered her to remain house bound.

Claire notes Jill's tension nearly a week away from the New Year with a sympathetic chuckle.

"If I were not certain it is I who's been in this home for weeks on end, I'd think you were the one under house arrest." She jests lightly.

"Forgive me, Claire." Jill shakes her head slightly but says no more.

"And I must, for you and our dear Rebecca are the only reasons I've not yet been driven to insanity."

"With a brother like yours I'm surprised you've not already lost your mind." Rebecca laughs, "Would you not agree, Jill?"

"Of course, I concur." Jill chuckles, despite the ceaseless tightness of her chest and the weight of his gift around her neck.

She would deny such a truth to any who ask, but she has worn the vial of poison ever since he laid it on her skin. The frosted glass feels familiar to her by now, and sometimes she catches herself staring as the liquid within sloshes around. Rebecca and Claire have teased her on such an occurrence plenty, and their insistence that Mr. Redfield's name be a part of every conversation doesn't escape her notice. If she didn't have bigger dilemmas to think on, she might have been more volatile in her rebuttals.

"He is such a difficult man, especially as of late." Claire rolls her eyes dramatically. "Why he's gone much of the day, at work in the Umbrella, yet expects me to remain within the estate like a good little girl. If I wanted I could waltz out that door, have a day to myself about London and then return, all without his noticing."

Jill stares fiercely at Claire as she speaks, unable to comprehend the meaning of her words.

"Jill, are you well?" Rebecca asks as Claire shrinks under the scrutiny of her friend.

"He's working at the Umbrella?" Jill asks.

Claire chuckles nervously, "Yes of course, you had seen him there previously. At least, I had thought-"

"The Umbrella is operating once more?" Jill clarifies her question.

"Yes." Rebecca answers, "I've been told that it is much too dangerous for my continued work there, however. I am not surprised they kept such information from you."

Jill stands from her seat, seething at the idea that she has been discounted once again. Perhaps it is just another nod to her feminine nature, that they think her delicate and incapable of returning to work. A much more startling thought that blossoms in her mind is the wonder that someone may know of her accomplishments outside of the facility.

"Jill-"

"This is absolutely absurd!" She huffs, "These men must surely have every intention of letting Las Plagas take hold of their wretched bodies. I can think of no other reason why they would dissuade the likes of ourselves from helping their pathetic cause."

"Bite your tongue!" Rebecca gasps.

"Isn't it obvious? With the way they parade around, flaunting their search for a cure whilst being totally incapable in reality. If they were really intent of saving humanity, they'd take the help so willingly offered to them. We're practically on a silver platter for them and yet they scoff as if we are no more than scraps for the dogs."

Claire takes Jill's hands in an effort to calm her, "There's no reason to-"

"I have plenty of reason, Claire, this is the future of mankind we're fighting for. And yet, they flounder as if we're only bartering for a table setting."

Jill takes in a stuttering furious breath as she tries to regain her composure, alas, it seems a lost cause. She is livid, perhaps it is not such a worthy cause, but the idea that these men can go along so willingly to something so obviously headed towards destruction. It is madness, undeniably.

"And perhaps we are." Rebecca says sternly.

"Excuse me?" Jill asks in return.

"You act as though we are the last pillar of hope for humanity."

"You think we are not?"

"I know better." Rebecca folds her arms.

"Is that so?" Jill feels her mouth remain agape as she speaks.

"You've some strange idea in your head that the Umbrella is all humanity has left. I am sorry, madam, but that is simply not the case and you are blind for refusing to see such a thing."

Claire attempts to intercede, "Ladies, might we-"

"I beg your pardon, however, a cure is humanity's last hope. We cannot continue this way."

"And why not?" Rebecca asks, "Our ancestors have lived through Las Plagas and we too shall endure it."

"If we don't have to, why should we even think of doing so?"

"Because there is no cure, Jill. Do you really think that the we are just one breakthrough away from discovery? You're mad if you think so! If there was a cure to be had, it would have been found by now."

"Rebecca you can't believe such a thing!" Claire gasps, clearly distraught by the idea.

"I can and I certainly do!" Rebecca's voice wavers before the tears trail down her cheeks in earnest. "I have to…"

Jill approaches Rebecca, placing her hands gently on her shoulders as she begs the question.

"What happened?"

"Tell us, Rebecca, please. We can help." Claire says in a tone that has her sounding particularly helpless.

Rebecca shakes her head. "It's not a matter that can be helped, I am returning home at the behest of my fiancé."

Claire let's out a soft, "Oh dear."

But Jill goes into a full tirade, "He cannot just force you to go where you do not wish to be."

"It is safer in the countryside." Rebecca pulls away from Jill.

"I never thought I'd hear such a thing." Claire hardly speaks as she sits on the nearest sofa, merely a spectator to the ensuing argument.

"And you'll just allow him to decide that for you?" Jill asks, harsher with her tone this time.

"It is not as though I put up much resistance, the writing is on the wall here." Rebecca retorts hotly.

"Indeed and it says we must take our stand now or all will be lost!" Jill proclaims boldly.

"I understand your anger, Miss Valentine, but not all of us can be as brave as you." Rebecca says coldly.

"How do you mean?"

"You are one to thrust yourself into any battle even and especially those you cannot hope to win. It would be admirable if you were not so determined that others do the same. It would be most wise if you too were to pack up and go home, for all the good it will do to remain in London. You'll be nothing more than an untoward distraction."

"I can assure you, with violence and vigor, that I will not cease my commitment to a vaccine until it is either found or my very breath is taken from my body. That is a solemn promise." Jill says it sternly, with a scowl that could shake an unmentionable to its core.

"Oh yes, because we are aware that prudence is not your forte. What a laugh." Rebecca waves her off, "Your insistence does not make you sound selfless, why you sound very much like-"

"Like a man?"

"Like a fool." Rebecca spits.

Jill shakes her head, "We've very different opinions of fools."

"You expect to save the world, that sounds quite foolish to me."

"I intend to try, lesser men than I have done more than that. It is the bare minimum in my own opinion."

"Lesser men indeed." Rebecca scoffs.

"You say our ancestors faced the horde and survived, but not all of them did. It takes mere moments for them to recruit, while mankind cannot keep pace. Our numbers will keep dwindling until we are all gone. And perhaps we survive, we go on to have children, but what of their children? This is not a problem I want to leave as inheritance!"

"You must think very highly of yourself with such ideas as those." Rebecca says lowly, still allowing her tears to fall from her eyes. "You are ignorant to think you can fix the world's ills with morals."

"At least I am trying to fix the world! From where I stand, all I see are the cowards among mankind, ready for a brutal battle but fearful of progression to salvation."

"You speak of salvation as if it were achievable."

"And we shall never know unless we reach for it." Jill huffs in the midst of her fury, "I am just as terrified as you, Rebecca, believe it or not. But what I will not do, is run. I would rather have my limbs torn from my very body as I scream into the night than live knowing I did less than I am capable of. I have a great many fears, the most prominent of them all is uselessness."

Rebecca shakes her head, "You cannot possibly think there is any sense in remaining in London."

"There are seldom moments in this life where we must act, not upon sense, but upon our integrities. I for one have never felt more inclined to stay."

Rebecca finally lifts a handkerchief to wipe her eyes clear, Claire still sits by knees to her chest as she listens to the argument. Something in the room has shifted from anger to warmth as the three ladies realize their closeness. Both in friendship and circumstance, they are at an impasse that feels impossible to overcome but one that will define their fates once made.

"These are trying times, of course they are. But fear only helps us if we are spurred to something worthwhile. Perhaps that's leaving and I am wrong. Only time will tell." Jill says it when the silence if far too heavy a weight to bear.

Jill, wordlessly, bows towards the two ladies and takes her leave; neither Claire nor Rebecca make any sort of movement that inclines them to reciprocate her pleasantry. Emotion thick in her throat Jill turns the corner of the corridor only to lock eyes with the master of the house.

A figure (or perhaps two, she cannot be certain in her current state) brushes past her in the midst of her stupor. She and Mr. Redfield look at each other with gentle breath and heavy tension seemingly shared between them.

"Please excuse me." She says softly.

"Should you not wait for Mr. Winters?" He asks, equally quiet.

"I'm afraid I feel unwelcome here, Mr. Redfield."

"I certainly hope not…"

"I have made myself unwelcome, unfortunately."

"You could never."

"Please, allow me to go, sir. I just… I would like to be home." She admits feebly.

He hesitates, then holds out a hand as an offering without a word.

"It's… improper." Jill shakes her head, feeling some of her loosened curls fall from their style.

"The sun will set soon enough." He says, "It's a matter of survival."

Jill knows she should deny his advance, men and women walking together whilst unwed is an incredible scandal. Still, these are trying times… and not just with the recent outbreak. She accepts his offer, with a particularly nasty thought towards propriety, walking out of the house just as the sun settles beyond the horizon.

"Please extend my apologies to Miss Chambers as soon as you are able." Jill says once their pace has been established.

"You will not do so yourself?" He asks.

"I don't believe she will want to be speaking with me any time soon. I can't imagine that we will see each other before her departure." Jill feels her throat tighten as she thinks on it.

"I'll do no such thing." Mr. Redfield states confidently, "You have not lost a friend this day, Miss Valentine. Yourself and Miss Chambers will make amends presently, I'm certain of it. This time tomorrow you'll have worked through your differences. Please don't allow yourself to feel poorly for what has transpired."

"I was so… brash and I treated her terribly." Jill confides in him, biting back tears as best she's able.

"That is most surely not true."

"I presume you heard what was spoken."

"Indeed I did, and you are correct in all that you declared."

A part of her heart lightens at hearing his word, but she is too busy swallowing her emotion to speak.

In her stead, Mr. Redfield continues.

"Neither of you were wrong in your sentiments, and while I selfishly hope you too will return to the country for safety, I applaud your integrity. I found myself surprised by your vigor and ardency that humanity can still save itself. Optimism is so lacking these days, and I for one find your courage to feel thusly, admirable."

"What good is optimism if it leads to my alienation?"

"You have not lost the friendship of Miss Chambers, what you have done is invigorated her. Pushing others is harsh work, but it can lead to extraordinary things. Miss Chambers has allowed herself complacency in these past months, she speaks to Claire of such a truth often. For you to once again spark dissidence within her, that is praiseworthy."

"But I hurt her greatly, in her eyes I saw such pain." Jill looks towards the ground. Covering her mouth with one hand her eyes focus on the bleary reflection of lamplight against the snow.

Dear God in heaven, how Jill hates to cry. Such an action takes up her whole body, with shaking sobs and gasping breath, she has always detested such an action. But the memory of Rebecca's broken spirit clings to her so violently she can no longer ignore such a release.

As this is the case, she bites down as hard as she can to keep away the tides of pain. She can hold off, allow her tears to ripen behind her eyes as it were; albeit she cannot fend them off forever, but long enough to reach the Winters'.

"Growth is such a painful thing, but as all things, this too is necessary." As he speaks, Jill imagines his mother saying such a thing to him.

Jill envisions the woman from many a painting around the Redfield estate, cradling a much younger Mr. Redfield. Perhaps he'd been bested in combat trainings or he'd been told something particularly wicked by some local children. Regardless of the circumstance, Mrs. Redfield clutches him to her breast and speaks the sentiment with a gentle intonation. Jill's own mother might have done similarly, wiping away tears and reiterating that strength comes from hard times.

Jill spares a glance upward as the two come to a stop in the shadows between streetlamps. Mr. Redfield stands in disbelief at the sight of her, she feels positively barren and she supposes now it is impossible to hide such a thing. His hand lifts to her cheek as though he cannot control his own motions.

"Oh… This has truly cut you so deep?" His voice is uncertain as he speaks.

"I value nothing more on this Earth than my loved ones, sir." She laughs bitterly.

"What a pair we make…" He speaks as she lets out a stuttering breath. His nervous smile crumbles as the shame she feels becomes visceral, the warmth between them is enough for Jill to nearly forget it is winter about them.

With a thin breath she observes his expression, he looks at a loss and perhaps a bit frightened. Yet more embarrassment enraptures her, he's likely never seen a woman in such a state, save his sister. It is improper, every last bit of the scene; from his hand and her turmoil, to their presence together on an otherwise empty street.

With a sharp sniff to collect herself, Jill turns back towards their route. "In any case, I should have learned by now to bite my tongue. Instead I drive yet more of those dear to me away."

"I should hope you never learn to do such a thing, you would keep far too much good sense away from people." He says firmly. "We live in a time most desperate for sense and I should hate to lose your voice. It brings me such joy…"

"Mr. Redfield…" Jill takes a moment to breathe as he moves to continue their journey.

"We must make haste, Miss. If you're not careful you'll catch cold." He says it swiftly, crimson tinting his features.

"Of course… and Mr. Winters will be distraught if he reaches your estate with myself nowhere to be found." Jill agrees.

"You… Yes of course."

The remainder of their walk to the Winters' is quiet, with Jill managing to recover her composure. Once they are back Mr. Redfield attempts to lighten her burden one last time.

"I have asked that Miss Chambers accompany my sister back home, to our country estate, but they're not to leave until the week's end. You will certainly see them both before they depart."

Jill bites her lip in thought, "If they would have me, I hope so."

"Many are in want of your attention, Miss Valentine. There will be no trouble finding such a thing." He assures her.

Before she can respond, Ethan Winters erupts from the home just behind them.

"Jill! What are you doing here? I'm not meant to retrieve you for another hour yet!" He scolds in a firm tone.

Mr. Redfield begins to speak in her stead. "Please, Mr. Winters, there's no reason to-"

"Mr. Redfield?... What a surprise it is to see you here." He looks skeptically at Jill for a moment. "Why are you here?"

"I was informing Miss Valentine of all that has happened within the Umbrella since the most recent outbreak."

Jill looks at Mr. Redfield in utter shock as he speaks.

"She's been asked back just this afternoon and I wanted to ensure she is properly prepared for what chaos awaits." He gives her a tender smile as he concludes his statement.

"Oh… I was not aware she would be returning." Mr. Winters says, "Is this true, Jill?"

Jill nods slowly, "Indeed, I will be resuming my previous schedule."

Ethan nods once before Mia appears in the doorway.

"Jill, dear! Come inside before you catch your death!" Then she recognizes the figure beside Jill and adds, "Mr. Redfield you as well, of course. I'll have tea ready in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Winters, however I must be going." Mr. Redfield takes Jill's hand and kisses it chastely. He bids her good morrow and disappears down the street they had come. She wants to stand by, dumbfounded by what Mr. Redfield has done, but heads inside the home per her hosts request.

Mr. Redfield likely hasn't the slightest clue what he's given her, but she won't squander this opportunity. And perhaps, she'll manage to return his generosity in due time.