"I don't know what's worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight."

The ticking clock deafened me as we both sat there, the never ending footsteps in the corridor echoed far louder than deemed necessary, and from the corner of my eyes I saw Chris suddenly look up at me, but I firmly kept my eyes on my hands. He didn't deserve my full gaze. He didn't deserve anything from me.

Months ago, I told him that I wouldn't leave him and I told him that self harming wasn't what he deserved. In the turn of events that happened, I was the one to leave and I was the one to self harm.

I licked my lips and took more breaths.

"Please leave." I whispered.

Months ago I had told him he was physically and mentally the strongest person I knew. Physically and mentally he was strong enough to bully me, hurt me, torment me.

"Please leave."

Months ago I told him he was the man who shaped me to be the woman I am now. The woman under the clean, white blankets. The woman on morphine. The woman who so very narrowly survived a drug overdose, a suicide attempt.

"Chris. Leave."

He stayed in his place for a few seconds before finally moving to the door in silence, placing his hand on the handle. Still I refused to lift my eyes or face to meet his own. He stood there. He wanted to say something, I knew it, but he was deciding whether he should.

My wretched, uncaring and impossible big brother. I don't want him back. I don't need him in my life. I've never known a life without him and I'm starting now.

Right now.

"I WILL change, Claire. For the better. I'll give you space for now. I just pray that you'll give me a chance." He lowered the handle and creaked the door open.

"I gave you enough chances." I murmured dryly. He stopped in the doorway. Was he thinking of something else to say or was he just going to repeat his empty promises?

"I'm sorry."

And as simple as that, as something so plain as a snap of the fingers, Chris was gone. I sat alone, wrapped up in the plain white blankets as my heart fluttered in my chest. The silence fucking ate at my soul.

Oh my God. I had told him to go. I had told him to get out and leave me with my own fragile life. I gripped the blankets hard, and the cotton fibres squeaked under my nails. No. This was his problem, not mine. I shouldn't feel guilty about sending him away.

It is your problem.

It isn't.

You should've helped him.

He should've helped himself!

Pathetic, worthless Redfield little sister.

He should've helped himself.

You should've been the caring little sister and helped him.

I tried…

And you failed.

The door gently creaked open and my regular nurse crept in.

"Oh, your brother isn't here?" she asked, setting down the familiar tray of medication by my left bedside. I didn't respond. I just wanted more painkillers more drugs I wanted wanted I NEEDED MO-

"Miss Redfield, are you ok?!" she cried in alarm. She placed a hand by my face, at my cheek, and she stared at me with a fearful look in her eyes. I tried to lift my arm to her for the medication, but my hand felt weak, flimsy, the life in my fingers and my hand and my arm disappeared. The nurse slammed the red button above the table and looked back at me.

"Miss Redfield, please try to talk. Please try and raise your arms."

I formed words in my mind. What's the matter, were the words I wanted to say. I pushed them to my lips. But that's not what came out. The nurse opened her mouth in horror and motioned again for me to lift my arms.

I couldn't.

A rustle of paper stirred me from a nap, and I wearily opened my eyes to a familiar face.

"Hey, Claire, sorry if I woke you up."

I scratched my forehead and stretched.

"No, Leon, it's fine. I nap too much nowadays anyway." I yawned. Leon pulled the tissue paper away from a small bouquet of flowers and replaced an old, wilted bunch in the crystal glass pitcher to my right.

"No such thing as napping too much, not in hospital at least. You need the rest. You had a mini stroke, after all. At least your speech has improved."

He turned to me, smiling, but it slowly slipped as he saw my expression.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I'm being discharged soon. Probably wasted your time with the new flowers." I gestured to the fact that I was in my normal clothes, albeit a little looser than I remembered. "Finally going home. So yeah, I'm OK."

"Really? You seem down. You sure you're ok?" He looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. "Chris not here? I thought he got full visiting access."

"He did." I nodded.

"But?"

"He hasn't been back since I told him to leave a few weeks ago. I don't need that lying, conniving bastard in my life. Not anymore. Not after almost dying for him. He wasn't willing to risk himself for me."

"Woah, Claire-"

"I am here because of him. I almost died BECAUSE OF HIM, LEON!" I pointed a stiff finger downwards to emphasise my words. Here. In hospital.

"What?"

"He fucking treated me like dirt! He was drinking and he hid it all from me! He…" I swallowed sweet mucus as my throat itched, "don't tell anyone, please, but he physically abused me, Leon. Yet he was struggling."

I slammed my palm against my leg and cried out.

"Why didn't he listen to me?! Why was it so hard for him to listen?! I'm his sister, dammit!"

"Claire, what? What happened? I know he said he treated you like shit but you mean he attacked you?" Leon looked at me worriedly.

"I shouldn't be telling you. But I need to get it off my chest. I couldn't cope with it all. I couldn't cope with him. I tried to escape it all."

"Claire…" Leon breathed.

"I'm so fucking weak…I couldn't help my brother…" I whimpered, shaking my head.

"Not at all, Claire, come on. I'm aware that you tried to…" Leon cleared his throat, "but it doesn't mean you're weak. It just means you tried to be strong."

"Until I tried to kill myself."

"I'm sorry, Claire. It's really shed Chris in a different light to me. How bad did it get?"

I sat silent, remembering. Remembering him holding me face down on his bed as he…

"Imagine CQC gone wrong. That's the worst it got."

You lie.

"Claire…you could've turned to someone, anyone."

"And Chris could've too. But he didn't. Instead of getting his shit together he took it out on me." I was aware that my eyes countered my feelings of anger, and I rubbed the tears away.

"Do you miss him?"

"I don't. I'm happy now."

Leon sighed and rested his arms on his knees.

"I may not know you as well as Chris, but I've known you long enough. I didn't know you had told him to go. I didn't know anything untoward was happening and I'm sorry for not knowing or noticing. But here's something I've noticed. Every time someone ever mentions him you get upset. Now, tell me. Is that from the memories, or is that because you do actually miss him?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"I don't miss him."

You miss him.

"I've only seen him once outside of the hospital but he didn't want to talk. I bumped into him in the grocery store. He was buying whiskey."

"Good to know he changed his ways, then."

"He looks like shit, Claire. I've never seen him like that. Like he hasn't slept in days, I don't even think he's eating properly. I asked how you were and he just grumbled about how he had been an ass to you. That's all I got from him and he skulked off."

"Not my problem. God I can't believe he's drinking! No, you know what? I can believe he's drinking. I can absolutely believe it. But I told him I wasn't giving him another chance to change. My patience wore out, and still is. I don't have the time for his lies anymore."

"And yet he straight up waved the bottle of whiskey at me and said he'd been an ass to you. Is he possibly drinking because you denied him the chance to change and help himself?"

"I really couldn't give a shit, Leon. He's not my problem anymore, he's his own problem. He's on his own now. And he needs to realise that." I shrugged at my old friend.

"I think he does realise but," Leon brushed a hand through his dirty blonde hair and sighed, "I don't think he's in a good place. Think about how he felt when you were almost dead. It destroyed him. I never thought I'd see the legendary Chris Redfield be reduced to that shell of a man that sat here at your bedside, crying and praying and begging for you to wake up. Would you want to feel like that if anything happened to him?"

"It's a fucking pretence, Leon! He probably only behaved that way to hide his actions, to make himself look like the victim! If he cared so much about me then I wouldn't be here now!"

"I think you're being unreasonable…"

"Unreasonable? UNREASONABLE?! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" I swung my legs off the side of the bed, "I took so much for so little because I cared! And look what it did to me!"

Leon stood up and stepped towards me.

"You did this to yourself, Claire! He didn't inject you with heroin, he didn't make you snort coke, he didn't stuff a joint into your mouth! He didn't pour vodka down your throat! He didn't try to drown you! I don't know how bad it got between you two, but he is responsible for his actions and you are responsible for yours! Neither of you can or should be blaming each other!"

I snorted out of my nose at him.

"You have no idea how fucking bad it got, do not fucking tell me that he isn't responsible for what I did!" I gritted through my teeth. He took another step towards me.

"Your brother is NOT responsible for you trying to kill yourself. Everyone knows you cared, everyone knows that you wanted to help him, no one is denying that or overlooking it. It's true that he could've asked for help, but it's also true that, at any point, you could've taken a step back. He's a grown man, he could've looked after himself. You're a grown woman, you've proven time and time again that you are perfectly capable of making rational decisions. But you were so consumed with guilt that you stayed and took his shit! Maybe you both would have benefitted from some time apart to clear your heads, but it's too late for that now!"

I opened my mouth to talk but Leon pointed a finger at me.

"You didn't see how that man fell apart at your bedside! You didn't see him tear himself apart! You didn't hear him asking your parents for forgiveness, asking you for forgiveness! He acknowledged that he started this downward trend between you two! He literally sweated remorse and guilt from every fucking pore! And you! I'm right! You were too wrapped up in the guilt you felt from making yourself believe that you had failed to help him! You never failed! You stumbled!"

"I never felt guilty, I cared because he's my brother and I worried about him!"

"Then talk to him! He knows he's made a mess, and you only helped fuel that! No one wants to see you two drift apart!"

"You want me to tell you exactly why he can go fuck himself?! Because that's what he did to me!" I roared. I was pissed. Fuck Leon. What the fuck does he know?!

"I understand that!"

"No Leon, you DON'T understand! That's what he did to me! And I kept my hands to myself but all in the wrong ways because of him! Now you fucking know why I don't want him in my life anymore!"

I could see Leon slowly processing my words, and then I could see the moment it clicked. He leant back and looked at me with wide eyes. I had no more to say. In my anger and frustration and… self directed vitriol, I had said too much.

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Claire, that's illegal in so many ways. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

I didn't answer him. I didn't have an answer. I breathed heavily at the revelation being released from my loosened lips.

"Who else knows what he did?"

"No one. Just you. And I would prefer that it stays that way."

"You need to report that." Leon spat.

I laughed with snide in my tone.

"Only a few moments ago you were telling me that he's not responsible for my actions. Now you know why I did what I did. This doesn't leave this room. If I ever find out you've told someone…" I pointed at him and pulled a finger across my neck. He glared at me.

"If by some remote chance you're in contact with him again and he begins to abuse you again, don't doubt for a second that I won't report it."

"Oh, ahaha, I forgot," I smirked at him and raised an eyebrow… the one I could lift easily post-stroke anyway, "Leon S Kennedy, government agent. You still think the outfit suits you? Report anything and the government will be wondering where you've disappeared to."

"Are you threatening me?"

"What if I am?"

"This isn't something to be snarky about, Claire. Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you report it? Why didn't you leave?"

"I DID leave!" I threw my hands in the air, "I moved to that…shithole of an apartment to get away from him! I left the same night!"

"You told me because you're having an outburst. How long would you have kept it to yourself, Claire? When was it, early June?"

"I…"

"You were never going to tell anyone, were you? Why?"

I gulped hard and turned my head away from him.

"You still care about him."

"No." I quickly responded.

"Even now you want to protect him."

"You're wrong…"

"Am I?" He waved his own hand at me. "I can't think of another possible reason why you'd keep all that to yourself. What he did, if what you're implying is true and it's exactly what I think you're implying, then it's fucking disgusting, immoral, criminal, I could go on. The fact that you're his SISTER... Yet you blurted the truth out in anger, and now you're threatening to make me disappear if I open my mouth? I was never meant to know this, was I?"

He watched me rub my arm, pull at my jacket sleeve, he watched every action I performed.

"You still love him, and you want to protect him."

"No."

Yes.

"You miss him."

"No."

Yes.

"Tell me the truth, Claire. Please. I know you still haven't forgiven me for not handing that data chip to you, but I have my reasons. We haven't gotten on well since, I'm aware of that. The right thing for me to do would be to report all of this to the police, but, as a friend, I want you to be honest. Tell me what happened. Tell me what you're feeling now. Please."

Any distraction was welcome, and I silently thanked the timing of my nurse as she entered my room with a smile.

"Ok, Miss Redfield, the head nurse has confirmed her satisfaction with your progress, the paperwork is done; you're free to go home anytime!" she exclaimed brightly.

I breathed deeply, tilting back on the bed as if to allow more air to fill my chest.

"Leon. Did you drive here?"

"Yes."

"Then, please. Take me home."

I should've thought better of it, Leon would only quiz me more in the car.

By now the sun had slunk behind the tallest of buildings in the cloudless azure sky. The afternoon rush hour was gradually picking up, and I lost count a while ago how many times Leon's Chevrolet Malibu idled in traffic. Some God awful pop song announced by the far too hyped up radio DJ began to screech through the speakers, and Leon chuckled.

"Watch your knees, let me get to the glove box." He said, and he reached over and pressed the button, rummaging through countless CD cases. "Oh hey, this is your kind of music, right?" He cracked open the case and inserted the disc.

Immediately, or perhaps within seconds, I recognised the song. My dad had been a Meat Loaf fan, I has spent countless hours listening to his amazing, energetic and powerful voice, but he died two years before the release of this album. I think he would've enjoyed it. I rolled my eyes and sighed, gently rapping my fingers on the window frame as the piano began. I squirmed in the seat, the leather squeaked under my butt.

"Cream leather interior…you're as bad as Chris. You should get some pink fluffy dice to hang on your rear view mirror." I grinned.

"I used to. Not even joking. I lost a bet. It was my forfeit." Leon curled his lip at me.

We both laughed. It felt good to laugh again. So good. It felt...warm.

"So," Leon began, "I'm taking you to the little apartment that you moved to?"

I hummed in response as I stared out of the window. Across the road, outside of a sandwich store, stood a family; the dad handed out sandwiches to his woman and their kids, a boy about pre teen age, and a girl who was considerably younger. They began walking, but the little girl dropped most of her sandwich and became visibly upset. The boy looked at his own sandwich and ripped it in half, giving the bigger piece to her. I smiled. As kids Chris would've done the same for me. No doubt this boy will go up to be a great person that would never lay a finger on his little sister. At least these kids had that going for them, not all siblings will grow up to be pieces of alcohol and drug fuelled low-lives.

Leon drummed his own fingers on the steering wheel in time to the piano keys.

"I need to ask a huge favour, Leon. Illegal, probably, but, as a government agent, you'd probably have a decent idea." I stated, and Leon glanced to his side at me.

"Decent idea of what, and why is it probably illegal?"

I brushed my hair from my face and looked him straight into the eyes.

"I need you to help me dispose of whatever drugs I might have left. Drugs. Alcohol. Medication. Anything. I can't do this anymore. I need to become clean." I explained.

"You're going cold turkey? Isn't that going to be bad for you?"

"I've been in hospital without it all, it's not like I'm going cold turkey right this instant. It's already begun. If Chris can't change then I will. I want to show everyone that I can come out on top."

"Good for you, Claire. But, er, I mean I can try to help? I'm not sure how. I could always take it to the nearest police station and flash my government ID, but I don't know if I'd end up in cuffs."

"You don't have to help if you're unsure, I just need to find a way to ditch what is left over, if any."

After another few junctions the traffic let up, and we travelled just below the speed limit, surprisingly, seen as who was behind the wheel. I could see the Hard Rock Cafe up ahead on my right, becoming closer and bigger as Leon squeezed the gas. I saw someone standing outside, someone in a dark coat, dark pants, head down, cigarette in between lips, and I twisted my neck as we drove past.

"You alright?" Leon quizzed. I pressed my forehead against the glass to try to gauge if my eyes were playing tricks on me.

"I thought I saw Chris outside the Hard Rock Cafe." I explained, but wished I hadn't.

"So you DO care still." he replied.

"No, Leon…"

"I'm not gonna press you this time, don't worry."

We went silent again, and I mouthed the words to the song.

"And some days it don't come easy. And some days it don't come hard. Some days it don't come at all and these are the days that never end. And some nights you're breathing fire. And some nights you're carved in ice. Some nights you're like nothing I've ever seen before or will again.

And maybe I'm crazy.

Oh it's crazy and it's true.

I know you can save me.

No one else can save me now but you."

I paused my mouthing of the words.

I know you can save me, no one else can save me now but you.

I flicked my eyes to the side view mirror at the bar that had long since vanished from view.

"Is this the street coming up on the left, Claire?" Leon piped up. I glanced over toward the familiar row of apartments in the distance.

"Yeah. That's it." I sighed. He turned into the street as it came up and parked right outside. I got out before him and walked around the car to the front of the building, but not without noticing his licence plate and bumper sticker.

"Leon, your plate is 'FMS NWF'. What does that mean? Stand for anything?"

"Ignore it, it's just an inside joke. Same with the bumper sticker." He pointed at it and I read it.

"No Thanks Bro…the hell is that supposed to mean? Just another inside joke?" I asked. He laughed again and shrugged.

The door had been fixed after Moira's break in, but something didn't seem right with the door itself, or the latch, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I stepped in and grimaced at the cold, damp air inside. Leon whistled a high note.

"Damn…this is where you lived?" He raised an eyebrow and looked about at the sparsely furnished room with the mould in the ceiling corner. I didn't answer. I stepped straight into the kitchenette to the left and began opening the cabinets under the counters. I handed the bottles of vodka to Leon.

"Make sure they're empty." I ordered. He took the bottles without question and poured them down the sink. I searched more, but I couldn't find any drugs left over, just my half used box of contraceptive pills. I closed my eyes and thought hard. Had I really taken them all on that night? I remembered I had snorted coke at my desk, and I ran over. I scanned the surface for any signs of drug use, but failed to find any. Those empty syringes were gone, I remember brushing them off the desk, but where were they? And the spoon I used for meth…where was it? Had Moira cleaned up? Police?

Then, something else dawned on me. I pulled at the one drawer on the desk but it was empty.

"My laptop. Where is it?" I panicked. I checked under the desk , on top, on the bookshelf next to the desk…where was my laptop?! My internet USB stick?! If anyone found the results of my internet searches…

"Is this your laptop?" Leon spoke from behind me. He had pulled the bedsheets back and there it was, the USB stick still plugged in. I sighed a breath of relief. I paced as calmly as I could to him and took it from his hand. My suitcase. My suitcase was on the floor next to him. I stuffed the laptop in there and pulled a stray lock of sandy coloured hair from my fingers.

"The drugs are gone. I must've taken them all." I confessed.

"In that case then, I'll take my leave." He placed his hands on my shoulders. "You're strong. You can overcome this. You always do. Keep in contact." I nodded at Leon and hugged him. He seemed taken aback by this, but he softly held his arms around me.

"I'm sorry for being a bitch. I wouldn't make you disappear. Not really." I whispered.

"I know you wouldn't, Claire. Now, listen. Any hints of anything untoward between you and Chris, and I WILL report all of this. Make no mistake. Your safety is paramount." I didn't answer, I just nodded into his shoulder. He broke away and walked out of the door without another word, pulling it closed behind him.

I sat on the bed. Fucking uncomfortable. I gazed over my old scars on my arms and breathed deeply. The room, though it was now September (I think?), was bitingly cold, the air reeked, that window was still broken.

This place was never, ever going to feel like home.

Go home.

I am home. Whatever home is. What is my home?

I know you can save me, no one else can save me now but you.

I stared into everything and nothing. I stared and stared and stared until my eyes began to sting from the lack of moisture in them.

No one else can save me now but you.

I grabbed my suitcase and heaved it onto the bed. All of my clothes were still in there, my belongings. I unzipped the suitcase and ran to my shelf, pulling all of my books and files off and cramming them beside my laptop in the front pocket. I turned back around and made across the laminate to the bathroom, but I stopped dead.

The bathroom.

Was I ready?

I blew a shaky and taxed breath and pushed the door open. I launched myself in and went straight for the bath, snatching my hair and body products, my brush, and I turned and stumbled over the waste basket, the bottles in my hands bounced off the floor as I steadied myself. Stumbling and mini strokes were definitely not an excellent combination. I slowly bent down to pick the basket up…I'm sure I didn't leave it empty before I tried to kill myself…I couldn't be sure.

No.

I'm certain I had thrown something in there on the morning of my attempt…what was it? Whatever it was, it was gone. I picked my things back up, and shoved them into the suitcase. One more scan of the room…everything else was dead weight to me. I had everything that was truly mine.

And maybe I'm crazy. Oh it's crazy and it's true.

I pulled the handle from the suitcase and left the building. The local fast food outlets smelled very tempting but I wasn't in the mood for chicken or burgers. Cars rumbled by me as I walked, people bustled by me and I walked, walked, taking in the city air and sounds and smells and sights for the first time in seemingly forever, to the nearby subway station. I was tired, so damn tired, but I walked. I need to get to that subway station. No more illegal drugs, no more drinking, no more fighting, no more hurting.

I know you can save me, no one else can save me now but you.

The song for this chapter is Breaking The Habit by Linkin Park.

This may be the song but let me be all real life for a second, here.

Meat Loaf.

A huge part of my life in terms of music, one that has been a part of my life since I was very young. Within half an hour of hearing the sad news that he had passed I had thought out the scene inside the car as a tribute to him, and as you can see, I expanded on it with the end of the chapter.

The other song for this chapter is "I Would Do Anything For Love (But I won't Do That)." by Meat Loaf.

Thank you for giving Jim Steinman's lyrical stories an amazing voice and character and life.
Thank you for Eddy in Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Thank you for your charisma, your energy, your warmth.
Thank you. Thank you.
This one is for you, my good sir. \m/ \m/
RIP

"Hot Patootie, bless my soul. I really love that rock 'n roll."

"Everything Louder Than Everything Else."

"Like a Bat Out Of Hell I'll be gone when the morning comes."

"Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night, I can see Paradise By The Dashboard Light."