Jill and Rebecca draw up the recipe that Jill recalls, a list of ingredients is written and sent for swiftly. Rebecca seems confident in her abilities to replicate the drug, but Jill is hesitant to believe her. It may just be the case that she worries it will be too much for her to hope for so great a fortune, but she does not indicate that to her friend.
Colonel Burton and Jill discuss many things; logistics of guiding the city towards healing, how to best defend the weakened districts, and strangest of all an apology. It's brief, as he's walking away, and Jill is touched by the gesture in spite of its awkward delivery.
She is not left alone for long as a washed and rested Rebecca returns with more questions concerning the vaccine. Jill does her best to answer each question, but she isn't as much help as she would like to be. Rebecca assures her that she's provided plenty before heading on her way.
Jill is then approached by Captain Kennedy, he too looks cleaned up and fresh from a bout of sleep. He inquires after her willingness to investigate the remains of Birkin Home. Jill agrees, albeit reluctantly, her body aches in its yearning for sleep.
Her willpower fluctuates as the sun falls from the sky, her eyes burn with need to close and her bones still tremble with staggering bouts of pain. Persistence is Jill's most prized virtue, however unfortunately and ill advised that might be, so she continues her work.
The setting sun still shines through the south window as Jill studies the map of London set up in the Redfield's parlor. Her tired eyes scan bridges, backroads, and estates for any potential weak points to be exploited by the undead.
She hears the door open just a touch but does not react to her visitor.
"Jill, how are you faring?" Claire enters the rest of the way and looks at her with concern.
"I am well, and you?"
"Very well, thank you." Claire approaches apprehensively. "Might I ask what you're doing currently?"
Jill chuckles lowly, "Oh, nothing of importance I suppose."
Claire nods, clearing her throat before speaking further. "Will you be requiring an escort home? Daylight is quickly fading and I'd hate for you to get caught in all that chaos outside, in the dark no less."
"That will be unnecessary, though I thank you for your concern." Jill stands upright and smiles at her friend.
The younger woman has bathed and slept since they last spoke. She looks refreshed, youthful even, and Jill finds herself relieved at the idea. Perhaps she has not corrupted the Redfield girl nearly as much as she'd thought.
"Are you certain? The streets have been a madhouse with all the military and supplies going through."
Jill approaches Claire, tentative with her steps as she lays her hands on the young woman's shoulders.
"I'll not be returning home just yet. The Captain has asked me to assist with the investigation at the Birkin home."
Claire shakes her head, "That's a truly terrible idea, you should be going home to rest. When was the last time you saw a bed?"
"Don't worry for me, I promise you all is well."
"And now you're a liar." Claire scoffs, "Chris told me what you did… what you did for him and all of us. My god, Jill you need a doctor not another chance for the unmentionables to bring you harm."
Jill brings one hand to Claire's cheek and hushes her gently, "It's alright Claire, I will endure and when the time comes, I'll rest. For now, I'm needed elsewhere."
"Do you hear yourself? You'll work yourself to death with talk like that and I won't have it."
"And what will you do to stop me?" Jill can't help but chuckle.
"Well… I'll tell my brother you intend on continuing the fight."
"I've no intention of fighting, I just hope to find something that remains of my work."
"Anyone can recover documents, you are not needed for this expedition."
Jill sighs and shakes her head before speaking again. "You know as well as I that a woman spending the night unattended in an empty home is positively unthinkable. Ethan has no intention of leaving Mia and she's in no condition to be moved, I have no home to go to as it stands."
"Now you care about the implications to your name." Claire laughs in disbelief.
"Oh yes, of course. I am a detriment enough to my name I require no help from ill circumstance." Jill chuckles.
"Which is why you'll be staying here." Jill jolts in surprise as Mr. Redfield's voice enters the room.
"I couldn't possibly impose-"
"You can, you will, and I daresay you must. Given that you have very little choice in the matter." He looks stern even with the smirk he wears. "I've had a room set up for you and some clothes sent for. Until Mr. Winters and his wife can return to their estate, we will house you here."
Jill shakes her head, still not quite grasping the idea. "I truly appreciate such an offer-"
"An order is not an offer, Miss Valentine." Claire chuckles beside her, "You must stay, rest… Have you even eaten today?"
"I have also asked that a bath be prepared for you, it will be ready presently." Mr. Redfield hesitates by the door before choosing to take two more steps into the room. "I believe it would be wise of you to accept, Miss. The Redfield wrath is nearly unbearable to stomach when it comes from one of us. You'll have both siblings hounding you should you refuse."
Claire lets out a laugh, "And in your state I should be doubtful of your ability to handle such a thing, for it is fearsome indeed."
Jill's cheeks burn with embarrassment but she's unable to muster the strength to argue with her new hosts.
"Very well, if only to avoid being hounded." Jill watches Mr. Redfield's smile twinge.
"Come then, you're in desperate need of that bath, dear." Claire's hands clutch Jill's upper arms as if she fears the older woman will change her mind.
Jill and Claire walk out of the room, passing Mr. Redfield as he stops to speak with the foreman upon his own exit.
Claire starts talking about a meal and how cold Jill's skin feels against her own. Jill would very much like to hear more than she does, but as they climb the steps her head becomes clouded with pain. Tears well up behind her eyes and she takes to counting the stairs as they go with the hope of leveling her breath.
She counts to ten before she nearly collapses in pain, stealing her arm back from Claire and wrapping it around herself. Her middle burns and pulses against the stays of her dress, one hand grips the cool railing and the other attempts to hold her body together.
"Chris!" Claire shouts only causing Jill to recoil more. The world is too much for her sensitive senses to handle, it's too bright, too loud, too hot, it's all too much.
Mr. Redfield has come to the front of her body somehow, he reaches for her but she shakes her head.
"Stop." She breathes with a soft gasp at the end of her demand.
"Jill please, let Chris carry you." Claire implores gently.
"No… I just need a moment."
"No, you need a doctor." Claire corrects her.
Jill shakes her head weakly, breath slowly filling her aching chest.
"I understand that you're in pain, Miss, and it's frightening to be sure, but we too are frightened for you." Mr. Redfield speaks to her in such a gentle tone she has to lift her gaze to him in order to be sure the words come from his tongue.
His hand cups her cheek gingerly as he continues, "We want to help you, allow us that. Please."
In the momentary silence she moves her hand from the banister to his wrist, her thumb pushing the lip of his sleeve fabric. They stand together, yet it might as well be opposite ends of the room. They are staring intensely at the other, yet something akin to tenderness hangs in the air. Perhaps the rough edges of war have finally weathered their own, leaving them with nothing left to offer but softness.
She nods mutely burying her face into his should the moment she's close enough to hide away her embarrassment.
"Go, now." Mr. Redfield instructs Claire, whose footsteps quickly disappear up the staircase.
Jill unknowingly allows a sob to pass from her lips into the fabric of Mr. Redfield's coat, her tears are quickly absorbed by the fabric beneath her eyes.
"All will be well, my dear, all will be well." He assures her tenderly.
So consumed by pain is she, it's almost possible for her to ignore the diminutive. The term sticks in her mind as he brings her to the stair landing, and she can pull herself to a respectful distance. At the least, as respectful a distance such an encounter can allow.
The room which has been prepared for her is large and warm. The tub in the far corner steams and Claire is already rolling up her sleeves as they enter.
"Put her on the bed." Claire instructs.
"No." Jill shakes her head, "That's… That's too far."
Claire looks at her apprehensively but nods to her brother. "The armchair then."
Mr. Redfield approaches the chair and slowly lowers Miss Valentine onto it. She winces as her body meets it, but she retains her composure.
"I'll take care of her, Chris, you go on and wait for the doctor." Claire says to her brother.
Mr. Redfield's gaze on her is positively distraught, perhaps even fearful, but he does as instructed and closes the door behind him.
Claire starts to let down Jill's hair, her fingers nimble and considerate of Jill's aching head.
"I can wash myself." Jill tries to assure her.
"I won't have it." Claire says resolutely, "You're so tired you'll fall asleep in the tub and then you'll catch cold."
"Claire-"
"You took care of me when I was ill… allow me to return the favor, nobody deserves to have such kindness returned more than you."
"I did not do it in the hopes of procuring a favor." Jill insists, weakly loosening the buttons on her sleeves.
"And that is precisely why you deserve to be helped now… You are cherished by us Redfields, Jill, please stop fighting us. We are not your enemy."
Jill is hurt to have even insinuated that her friends are an enemy upon which she must combat.
"I'm sorry." She says feebly as the weight of her hair hits her back.
"No, don't be… You've spent your whole life being taught how to fight it's only natural to respond thusly." Claire assures her, tone lilted with apology as she moves to undress her.
Jill is stiff with pain, but more so with discomfort at the idea of Claire seeing her indisposed. The laces of her dress practically sting as they come undone and her skin prickles once they begin to touch more of the air around her.
Claire lets out a soft gasp upon seeing Jill's bare back, Jill imagines the horrifying array of bruises littering the length of her spine. The reds, blues, purples, and blacks must be something truly shocking to have elicited a reaction such as that.
The room is cold even with the steaming bath and lively fireplace, Jill can hardly imagine standing once she has been stripped. Her hands feel stiff and her bones still demand her attention with their agonizing trembling. Still she stumbles to the bath, sinking into the scalding water because at the very least she won't need to stand any longer.
Claire diligently scrubs the dirt and blood from Jill's hair, not a sound is made by either of them. Jill instead focuses on staying awake, absently scrubbing her arms to keep herself from fading away. Her muscles find a soothing ease in the water, but somehow their relaxation brings yet more pain to spread across her body.
Jill winces as her taut muscles loosen and cramp with the necessary positions of washing ones body. Claire's hand still each time she spots the dark haired girl screw up her features in discomfort. Soon they both realize there is no easy way to go about this process, and they have an unspoken agreement to complete the task as quickly as possible.
Claire makes fast work of cleaning her friend and soon the water is dark with grime. Once more, Claire shows her deft hand as she helps Jill dry off enough to dress in sleep clothes. Then, she ushers the elder woman to the fireplace, brushing Jill's hair to help it dry faster.
Jill begins to doze off, between the rhythmic strokes of the brush and the warmth of the fire, but Claire keeps her awake.
"Come now, darling, you know better than to sleep with wet hair." Claire chastises her sweetly.
"Then you should not have wet my hair." Jill retorts with a twinge in her voice as Claire pulls on a particularly tight knot.
"With all that blood you could have made a whole other person." She quips back. "And you must feel better, between the soot, sweat, blood, and dirt you must have lost five pounds."
"Hmm." Jill murmurs her agreement staring blankly into the fireplace.
"Sherry is doing well. Understandably, she's quite fearful, but her bite has only improved."
"Good…"
"Leon's wounds were not as severe as we had previously assumed." Jill only nods to Claire's comment, "Chris and Billy are also well, though I suppose they did not receive such brutal wounds."
"As Mia, you mean."
"And you… My god, Jill, you're positively battered."
Jill nods half-heartedly, "But I'm not dead."
"Somehow." Claire agrees, beginning the process of braiding Jill's hair.
"I must be particularly pathetic to elicit such gentleness from you, Claire. You and your brother both I suppose." Jill looks at her nails as she speaks, admiring their lack of grime as a way of remaining awake.
"Pathetic is hardly a word I think anyone would use to describe you." Claire chuckles.
"Then what would you say of me? A poor little thing, perhaps?"
"Oh yes." Claire continues to laugh, "You poor dear, with your broken bones and weakened muscles from killing anything that has the audacity of crossing your path."
"Pity is unbecoming." Jill comments.
"I think needing to be pitied is quite charming on you, Jill."
"So you say…"
They sit in silence until Jill dozes a little too far off for Claire's liking. The red haired girl once again spurs the conversation.
"You worried us halfway to the grave, you know."
"Who?" Jill asks, "You and Rebecca?"
"All of us, I suppose. My brother most of all." She says, "When we encountered poor Leon and Billy, they practically carried us back to the estate."
"What stopped them?"
"I'll have you know I run very quickly." Claire says with a laugh, "And I told them you had sent us."
"But not for what."
"No… Your name carries more weight than I think you realize."
"Oh yes, Jill Valentine, the woman who broke before the beasts." She scoffs.
"You mean the woman who saved humanity, that's all anyone can talk about."
"Annette made the cure."
"And you delivered us to salvation. You killed the Anti-Christ for heaven sake, give yourself a little credit."
"No." Jill says flatly.
Claire laughs in response, "Well, I suppose there really can be no winning with you, dear. You're thoroughly impossible to please."
"I'm utterly shocked that it has taken this much time in my acquaintance for you to reach that conclusion."
"Utterly?" Claire inquires.
"Totally, wholly, completely, unequivocally. Might I go on?"
"Oh no, I doubt listing synonyms will keep you awake."
"Hm…" Jill sighs once Claire ties off the end of her braid. "Is my hair sufficiently dry?"
"It is to my standards, yes." Claire kisses Jill's cheek and then removes herself from her side, watching with unease to see how Jill responds to a loss of support.
Jill's arms shake, but she remains upright as she asks. "And what now?"
"Wait here, I'll be back with Chris in just a moment."
"Absolutely not!" Jill snaps.
"And why not?" Claire retorts, hands firmly placed at her hips.
"I… I cannot allow him to see me like this." Jill feels a bashfulness overtake her.
"I doubt very much that you can make it to bed on your own."
"Then help me."
"I am, by fetching my brother." Claire says resolutely.
"It is beyond improper-"
"I believe the situation is an exception to propriety, Jill."
"No." Jill says as firmly as she's able. "I don't want Chris looking at me in my nightwear it's positively indecent."
"Shall I wrap you in blankets until you're six inches thicker?" Claire asks, before her expression changes.
"You act as if you would throw away your good name simply to make something to be easier." Jill groans pushing herself to her knees, fighting against the far too consuming pain.
"You called him Chris." Claire says with a breathless laugh. Jill, realizing that she did in fact say such a thing, raises a hand nervously to her mouth.
No amount of tiredness could amount to such an improper slip of the tongue, and she is duly mortified. Jill feels her muscles shaking even as she's stopped trying to stand; she's allowed for far too many breeches in bother her moral code and that of society this day. The audacity of the situation sends bolts of shame through her.
"Jill? Jill!" Claire has a firm grip on her shoulders before the older of the two can comprehend what has happened.
She seems to have finally run out of energy, her body having lost the ability to hold her up. Claire's arms are all that keep her from falling into the fireplace.
"Chris! Chris get in here!" Claire shouts. Jill wants, in her scattered mind, to hush her friend if only to allow for silence.
Mr. Redfield appears before her, his voice a calm hush against Claire's frantic energy.
"Claire, step aside."
"Jill, stay with us, please." She hears Claire's desperation and feels the transfer of arms. Jill presumes Mr. Redfield carries her to bed, but her eyes fail to preform their task.
"Let her rest, sister, she needs it more than anything."
Jill feels his hand on her forehead before she succumbs to sleep, "Rest, my darling. All will be well."