Human

She'd sagged to the ground as soon as the subject had let go of her and her whole body succumbed to gravity. Her eyes fell shut in exhaustion and she allowed herself a moment of weakness. Punches, groans, snarls, and the sound of a body being pulled over the ground followed. Someone had come to rescue her, it seemed, as she wasn't the one who was being attacked currently, but she still wasn't sure who her savior in shining armor was. When Claire managed to look up, she eventually could give a face to the familiar voice.

"Wesker," she gasped as she watched the S.T.A.R.S. Captain stand over the scumbag that had been assaulting her violently just a second earlier. The shot hadn't hit him, but the blond had thrown him to the ground. Blood dripped from his mouth and he showed a toothless grin as he blew more insults at Wesker. Claire couldn't stop herself from shivering like a jellyfish as the blond turned his head to her, just enough to let her know she was the one he alluded to.

"Get into the car, Miss Redfield."

She weakly glimpsed into the direction where she supposed he had come from, finding the rear of his SUV peaking around the corner. Achieving to give him a simple nod, Claire rolled onto her shaking knees and pulled herself up by holding on to a metallic trash container. When she tried to pick up her gun from the ground, Wesker hissed at her.

"I said into the car!"

The tone in his voice didn't leave any room for doubts nor defiance. Claire gave the miserable subject on the floor one last glance before she turned around and limped towards the car. It was open, as expected, and she climbed obediently into the passenger's seat.

Once in, she locked the car doors from the inside and released the breath she had been holding all this time. Her side hurt so badly she feared that breathing in too deeply could kill her, half of her face felt numb and she was still shivering. However, she finally seemed to be safe.

The rain didn't let her hear what was going on in the back alley. Also, the remaining tears blurred her vision, so it was hard to see anything through her tortured eyes. Wesker came back in what felt like a century, unlocking the door from the outside and getting into the driver's seat. His clothes and hair were as drenched as her own. He didn't seem to particularly care about it and Claire began to wonder if taking walks in the rain was some of his usual hobbies.

Or what else was he doing out there in the pouring rain?

Shouldn't he be working? Hadn't there been an emergency?

Wesker handed her the helmet, the SLS60 and the rest of belongings that scumbag had tried to take from her. Not even the library ID card was missing. Claire nodded shortly in gratefulness, not able to speak, as the blonde fastened his seatbelt and turned the engine on.

She had expected him to take her home, but as soon as Wesker chose to drive into the opposite direction, she noticed that she'd misread his intentions. A thirty-minute car ride later, the shiny lights of a motel out of town shone onto her face. Great. He had brought her to a cheap motel. As if the night hadn't been disastrous enough, now she would have to thank him for his assistance.

The motel looked eerie in the pouring rain and the shine of the headlights, but it seemed a clean construction and several cars were parked in front. It was still raining outside, and Claire was cold before she even got out of the car. She followed Wesker to the front desk where a young man with a blue and white checkered button-down shirt and large glasses was boring his fingers into the keys of a typewriter. A noisy fan blew right into his face, making his wispy hair even more disheveled. The entrance looked homey with its wooden floor and the photographs on the walls, and the young receptionist shared a friendly smile with the strangers. While Wesker scribbled some false names into the guest book, the young man gave her a curious glance and Claire wondered if he knew what they had come for. The establishment didn't look like it rented rooms by the hour, but she herself had to look like a prostitute next to this significantly older man by her side. Wesker took the keys to room 5 and they turned back to the door.

The air in the room could have been fresher and cooler, that was sure, but the bed was comfy and the sheets smelled clean. Also, inside, they were safe from the rain and any other dangers. As Wesker closed the curtains, Claire excused herself and went to the bathroom. The image the mirror gave her back was frightening. She looked wasted, with her clothes drenched and ugly bruises on her jaw and neck, where that asshole had hit her, probably with her own helmet. She sighed deeply. Wesker had saved her from the hands of that stranger, but the price she had to pay for his attendance was as disgusting and degrading as being raped in a dark back alley. Claire turned on the faucet and cleaned her face, washing off the last rest of tears the rain hadn't taken care of already, before she took a deep breath and opened the door.

Wesker was sitting in one of the armchairs, wearing an olive-colored T-shirt. His dark vest hung from one of the metal hooks on the door that imitated a coat hanger, the rain still dripping from it onto the ground. He was currently flicking through some menu and restaurant flyers, combing over his head every now and then, as his wet hair strands didn't want to cease falling back into his face. His sunglasses sat on the desk. Claire watched him for a second before she walked from the bathroom door to the bed.

"You should take your clothes off," Wesker said in a dark voice and Claire looked up. He was still sitting in the armchair, still reading. She swallowed and began to remove her jacket, pulling the sleeves off her arms as Wesker was giving her the usual cold attention. It was hard to believe that a mummy like him could actually get a hard-on. Claire tried to pull her shirt over her head and yelped in pain. Her ribs hurt from the hits she'd gotten in the side and lifting her left arm was painfully impossible. Now, Wesker looked up at her and frowned as she insisted, holding her breath until she managed to pull her shirt over her head. Removing the bra would have been equally hard, but Claire just pulled it down to her belly and turned the piece until she could undo the hooks without proving her flexibility. Her wet hair brushed her shoulders uncomfortably and she was cold, the goosebumps on her skin making it evident. She sat onto the edge of the bed to remove her pants, socks and panties. They peeled off with difficulty.

"So," she said, shivering a little, once she'd undressed fully. "Can we make it quick tonight? You might understand that I'm not really in the mood."

Wesker's left eyebrow jumped at her question. He hadn't stopped watching her in silence since she'd complained in pain before. He put the flyers away and got up, moving through the room like a predator. Her eyes watched him as he approached her. He was a beast, a freak, a monster. He knew she was weak and suffering and even so, he kept playing his games with her. He stood behind her, so close she could smell him under the thick layer of rain that lingered on him, and Claire swallowed hard.

One hand was put onto her. In the wrong place; in the right place.

"Ouch!" she flinched as Wesker put his palm onto her left shoulder blade.

"Don't move, Miss Redfield," he commanded. Claire sobbed and stood still as he ran his fingertips over her back and ribs. "Does it hurt when you breathe?"

Did it? Claire tilted her head a little as she breathed in and out, Wesker's hand still on her naked skin. It was uncomfortable, rough and harsh. Nothing hurt, though. She shook her head.

"No," she responded and Wesker let go of her. From one second to the other he was just gone. Claire turned her head a little and saw him emerge from the bathroom with a dark towel in his hands. Stretching it out to her, he gave her a dark look.

"Dry your hair," he said as she took the cloth. It was soft and warm. Claire threw it over her head and began to towel her hair dry. "Your bruises are just that. Bruises," Wesker explained as he walked back to the armchair. "Are you hungry?"

Claire lifted the towel on one edge and glimpsed at Wesker from beneath. Astonished, she shook her head and slowly pulled the towel off her head and shoulders, folding it delicately.

"Shouldn't I…" she whispered shyly, stopping to search for the right words. "Shouldn't I denounce that guy?"

Wesker sat back in the armchair and began to read, not looking back at her.

"He's been taken care of."

She sucked in a breath.

"What have you done?"

He clicked his tongue and crossed his legs. Claire wondered if she had ever seen him cross his legs.

"Miss Redfield, as part of the local authority, my choices regarding that individual were the right ones, you can be sure of that," Wesker replied, completely emotionless.

A little offended, Claire pursed her lips and laid the towel away. It was probably the best if she just ignored what Wesker could have done to that guy, and focused on what he would do to her.

"So," she asked, carefully rubbing her palms over her thighs. "What do you want me to do?"

Wesker frowned at her.

"You should rest." His serious tone surprised her. Claire blinked twice into his direction before he got up and handed her the menu. She reached for it, hesitantly and wide-eyed. "And even though you think you're not hungry, you should eat something."

Her look drifted to the cards and brochures in her hand. The shiny and colorful pictures of the dishes nearby restaurants offered stared back at her and her stomach began to rumble. She bit her lip and gave the menu back to Wesker.

"I will take one of these," she pointed at burger number eight on the menu of a place called B-Palace as Wesker took it back. "With fries and coke." Not very healthy, but regarding the general nature of the offered food, it wasn't such a bad choice.

Wesker just nodded and Claire breathed in nervously. He walked to the phone they had in the room and dialed. After a few seconds, someone on the other end answered and he ordered the meal. Afterwards, he grabbed the bible from the nightstand before he walked back to the armchair and took a seat.

"A hot shower will warm you up," he suggested in a bored voice after staring at her for too long. Claire had remained next to the bed, where he'd left her before, still not quite understanding his plans. "You might catch a cold after walking through the rain."

The redhead rolled her eyes nervously. A hot shower? Was he kidding?

"I'd rather do it first and have the shower afterwards, if you don't mind." She nodded towards the bed and looked back at him. "No need to waste that much water."

He waited before he answered. He waited and just stared at her in his usual, nerve-wrecking arrogance. She held his gaze bravely, challenging him to reply with some debasing comment about her care for the environment.

"Miss Redfield." He eventually recovered his voice. "I think you misunderstand again."

Her face shifted into a dark mask of anger and offense.

"What?"

And Wesker chuckled.

"Yes, I assumed that." He laid the bible onto the desk and bent forward, his elbows on his knees. He looked almost human in that position. Not like someone who had gotten a broomstick shoved up his ass. Claire relaxed, just frowning a bit at him. "You should rest, Claire."

She couldn't quite believe her ears. Had she gotten all wrong before, or was she getting it wrong now? Claire whimpered a bit, searching for the right words to say before she pursed her lips and shrugged one shoulder.

"You don't want to have sex with me?"

Wesker lifted his eyebrows and gave her a bored look.

"I can't think of anything more disgusting right now."

She gasped for air, trying to say something. In his customary insulting demeanor, Wesker had just told her that he wasn't going to touch her. Her view drifted through the room. He had brought her to the motel out of town not because he wanted some privacy for himself, but for her. Ashamed for her wrong suspicions, and a little moved by Wesker's almost fatherly treatment, Claire huffed out a laugh and took up the towel again. Turning back to the bathroom, she gave him a quick glance over her shoulder.

"I will have that shower, then."

It always amazed Claire how revitalizing such a hot shower could feel. The water poured over her body and the strange numbness in her limbs vanished. Her ribs still hurt, but the ugly pain in her back disappeared and she could feel her feet again. As it rained on her, she thought of the man that was waiting outside. Wesker had saved her, not for his own purpose, but because he hadn't wanted her to get hurt — for whatever reason. He had saved her. Hadn't the blond shown up, that guy could have robbed her, raped her, maybe even killed her; only because she herself hadn't been strong enough. Her hand balled into a fist and met the cold, tiled wall in a precise hit. Chris had taught her everything he knew, and yet she had been so weak she had needed to be saved. As the thought sank in, the tears came back, in rivers this time. And there she stood, crying in the shower of a creepy motel out of town, like another cheap cliché of a damsel in distress.

"You were lucky this time," she told herself under the stream of hot water. "But that doesn't mean you will always be."

She watched her hand, ashamed of how she had dealt with the situation. She could have lost everything that night, defying her opponent when she hadn't been prepared. Claire curled her hand into another fist. That couldn't happen again, she thought to herself. Chris hadn't wanted to raise a defenseless, weak little girl, but a tough, independent woman, worthy the name Redfield — someone who didn't hesitate when it came to important moves like shooting someone in self-defense.

She promised to herself that she would never hesitate again.

When Claire came out of the bathroom, dry and warm and with a towel wrapped around her hair, the food had already arrived. Wesker had placed the paper bag with her dinner onto the bed. He himself was still sitting in that armchair, flicking through the bible. Claire scanned the room as she approached the bed.

"You haven't ordered anything for yourself," she said. It shouldn't have surprised her, as she'd heard him make the order, but she hadn't really paid attention to that detail before. She had never seen Wesker eat or drink anything in her presence, and she kindly wondered how he would look like doing such normal, human things like stuffing food into his mouth. "Aren't you hungry?"

Wesker glanced up.

"No."

Claire sat on the bed and pointed at the jacket she'd thrown over the backrest of the second armchair.

"There's money in my pocket," she said opening the paper bag and glimpsing inside. "It's not enough to pay for the room, but for the food… I guess it is." She hesitated, shifting a little on the bed as she pulled out the bag of fries. "Take whatever you want, I…"

Wesker looked up and Claire stopped speaking abruptly. What she had been saying was not what she wanted to say anyway. Her lip began to shake, drawing a shy smile onto her pale face as she watched him. So calm he was; so serious; he had showed her the human core inside of him. And she eventually found the words she wanted to say.

"Thank you." Plain and simple, but effective. Long explanations would just have bored him, and he probably didn't care about any of her reasons. Claire smiled a little wider. Just a little, challenging him to react. Wesker glanced back at her, and for the first time since she had met him, it felt like he wasn't judging or making fun of her.

"You're welcome."

She woke up in the middle of the night, blindly patting the space next to her, searching for the cold wall of her bedroom. It wasn't there. Confused, Claire opened her eyes and blinked into the dim light of the motel room before she understood where she was. Damnit. She had dozed off right after dinner.

Admittedly, she wasn't completely awake yet, but she could see enough to notice that she was alone. She pursed her lips and searched for her watch, an alarm clock on the nightstand or one on the wall unsuccessfully.

"Wesker?" She asked into the room right before she heard the shower turn on in the bathroom.

He was showering.

Claire swallowed dry. Wesker was showering in the bathroom next to her. She thought for a second, without knowing what she was thinking. She just knew that there was something curious about Wesker in the shower and a part of her wanted to check how it looked like when the Captain did such human things like cleaning himself.

Attracted like a bug by the light, Claire got up and stepped to the door on quiet feet. The water was running loudly on the other side of the door and she wondered if Wesker would even notice if she just went inside. Her heart was beating like it was about to explode in her chest. Why was she so nervous? Claire licked over her lips before she turned the handle and pulled the door open, quickly stepping into the bathroom.

Steam filled the room entirely; the shower curtain was closed. Claire walked through the bathroom surprised by the silence. She hadn't expected Wesker to sing in the shower, but how could he make absolutely no sound?

Maybe he was dead or unconscious.

Maybe he wasn't even in there and would jump out of his hideout and startle her with a dry Miss Redfield on his lips. The thought made her look around herself to check if there was any place nearby where he could be hiding. Of course, there wasn't. It was a normal, empty and sterile bathroom and Claire shook her head to get rid of the thought. Wesker wouldn't be that childish, would he?

Would he?

Curiosity killed the cat, they said, and she needed to know if he was there. Claire didn't really know why she was caring that much, but she needed to check if he was alright, or, perhaps, she wanted to check if he was human.

Her fingers shivered as she reached for the shower curtain, ready to move it. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, before she pulled the shower curtain away and peeked into the cabin. The view, awkwardly, took her breath away.

The steam split and allowed her a close look onto his back.

He didn't look like a monster at all; he didn't look very human either.

He was beautifully shaped, with slightly tanned skin covering a whole world of muscles, and toned, wide shoulder blades reaching over his back like dragon wings. Claire couldn't take her eyes off him. He had never fully undressed for her. Actually, this was the first time she saw more than just his hands or his penis jutting out of his pants, and it was hypnotizing. There was a scar on his lower back. It was long and ugly, and even that imperfection was pure beauty on him. Not to speak of his butt, which had her wondering if it felt as hard and muscled as it looked like. A thin line of creamy soap foam ran down his back. He was washing his hair, raking his strong fingers through his blond strands. Claire gasped when she remembered that she had never seen a naked man before. Chris had always been very careful not to show her anything below his waistband and above his knees. Now, Wesker was showing her more than she had ever seen, and she somehow couldn't wait to see even more.

Before she could understand what she was doing, Claire was climbing into the shower, Wesker's back still turned to her. The smell of the cheap hotel soap invaded her nostrils as she stood close to the blond. The water ran over his head and down his back and Claire couldn't stop staring. He was naked. He was naked and her heart pounded. Her heart pounded and she wanted to touch him.

Cold fingers stretched as Claire thought which part of his body she wanted to feel first. It was just fair. He had touched her, too; every single spot on and inside her. By now, he had known her so close that he could surely draw a map of her body from memory, placing every single one of her freckles right where it belonged.

She wanted that, too.

Her hand rose and her breath stopped. She was so close to touching him for the first time — for real — and it made her heart race. He was so close. So near. So human.

So human, it had nearly made her forget how utterly inhuman he was. Before she could put one finger onto his skin, Wesker turned around and grabbed her wrist. One second later, she was pressed against the cold wall tiles, Wesker's hand tight around her throat. Her ribs burnt like fire under the impact, and Claire held back a scream. The water ran over her face and drenched her hair, gluing it to her skin. It had her blinking blindly into his face, before her look descended slowly. His back had been a wonder, but from the front he was a god. So brilliantly toned; not too much, not too little. The wet skin shone brightly as it stretched over his muscles.

Claire wheezed. Wesker's grip around her throat tightened, but it wasn't what was taking her breath away. It was him. She had believed he was an abomination — misshapen, a monster— but she couldn't have been more wrong. Truth be told, he was perfect from the face to the feet, with every curve and edge of his body harmoniously built. Her eyes darted back at his face and she blew out a breath along with some of the water that was still pouring down on her. Wesker's piquing glance hit her, but he didn't speak a word, leaving her longing for it. Claire nearly choked on her own pride as her hand rose and dared touch his forearm, sliding over the thin hair on it. And he let go.

Loosening his grip around her, Wesker allowed her to regain some breath, but Claire couldn't have cared less about air. She wanted to drown in him, to be taken by him and to disappear forever. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as her hand slid up his arm and to his chest. Wesker lifted an eyebrow, obviously disapproving her doing, but it wasn't enough to stop her. The redhead looked at him with wide open eyes, letting her hand make her way over his chest and down his abdomen. He didn't flinch. He just stared, leaving everything to her, as usual. He was so close, now. Would he let her eventually…?

Claire licked her lips, closed her eyes, and, pulling herself against him, she pressed her mouth onto Wesker's. Their lips met in a shy, short peck. And just like that, she had kissed him, quickly and out of nowhere, but he still didn't react.

Claire kept holding on to his strong shoulders as she thought of what she had done. Their faces inches away, she felt his hot breath on her cheek, that deep gaze of his piercing into her eyes. She panted. Her lip shook.

She wanted more.

Before she could think twice, Claire closed the distance between them again, meeting his lips in a deeper, wider kiss this time. She slowly caught Wesker's lower lip between hers and softly suckled on it, until his arm looped around her, carefully taking her up and pressing her into the wall again. And there she was, caught between a cold tile wall and Wesker's hot body. Wet, and not only because of the water that was raining onto them. Claire angled her both legs around his waist as she opened her mouth and pushed her tongue into his.

It was her first real kiss, and just as she was reminded of that detail, she gasped a little, searching desperately for his tongue until his teeth stopped hers from moving. Claire yelped and tried to pull back, her spread lips gasping against his. The blond eventually released her tongue, taking control over their moves immediately. His lips were all over hers as his tongue caressed her deliciously. Slowly, strong, but not too wet; that was how he seemed to like it, Claire understood. She mirrored his moves, stroking his mouth softly with hers. She was a quick learner, after all, and Wesker even seemed to like it.

She felt his erection grow as they kissed, just as she was getting wetter, too. It was insane, wasn't it? After trying to avoid this man all summer long, afraid of his ghost and how her body would react to it, she was now willingly opening up to him, and Chris had nothing to do with it this time. She tried to think of Chris; of his face, his voice, his smile; but it was useless. Even with her eyes tightly shut, her mind was stuck on the man she was there with. Claire whined under the pressure of his body against hers, her breasts delicately tickling over his chest. Her hot breath streamed into his mouth as she explored him with her own lips, and it felt kind of wonderful. Wesker hit his right palm into the wall behind her as his left arm descended to her hips. Steam covered them in its thick coat as the water kept running over their extremely fragile position, but they didn't need any more. Claire moaned into his ears as he caressed along her thigh.

"Fuck me," she commanded, no need to beg. His signature dark chuckle, although weaker this time, underlined his every move. Wesker angled up her leg a little as he reached around her thigh and for his member. He didn't wait any longer. Claire cried against his lips as he dove into her, sharply, deep and hard. So hard. Wesker pressed her against the wall and began thrusting into her, ripping rhythmic sounds of pleasure and pain from her lips every time he went back inside. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open. Claire kept licking and sucking Wesker's mouth while he penetrated her bare back, leaving her unprotected, exposed and vulnerable. The mere thought was so arousing it nearly made her come.

He grabbed her butt and pushed her hips harder into himself and himself deeper into her. Claire's head dropped back against the wall and hit it and Wesker used his chance to leave his teeth marks on her neck. She cried, he laughed, and Claire scratched over his perfect shoulder blades. He didn't laugh anymore. He groaned and grunted and pulled her thighs up higher, rubbing her wildly up and down his length. Claire moaned, as everything around them burnt. Her fingers eventually found their way up his neck and raked through his hair, fisting in his dense, wet strands and turning his face back to hers.

He was all over her, tickling and scratching, burning and destroying, as the water kept covering them both. Wesker caught her lips and tongue again. He kissed her until she nearly choked and left her gasping for more when he left her mouth. Claire pressed her face into his neck, his rough jaw covering her temple, as she felt the climax crawling up her body in waves, in oceans of pleasure. She bit his skin, softly, hard.

"I'm coming," she yelped loudly as her body stiffened around his, the whole length of her legs tautly wrapped around his hips. "Come with me."

He didn't chuckle this time. Wesker bored his fingernails into her thigh and increased his pace as Claire began to scream her orgasm into his ear. Ordinary? Who really cared? Pleasure needed to flow loudly out of one's body. Claire reached for the wall behind her and found Wesker's hand on it, putting her fingers onto his as she let her climax slowly die. She panted, he gasped and followed her. Proud, sore and sensitive, she embraced him tightly as he finished, shooting his seed into her inners.

The shower was still running when Claire slowly regained consciousness. Panting, she licked the water off her lips and tried to breathe again. Wesker, still holding her tightly against the wall, reached for the faucet and turned the shower off. The water stopped drowning them, and he left her body, slowly putting her down. Wordlessly, he turned away from her and stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel and not paying any more attention to her. Claire combed her wet hair out of her face and grimaced in disgust as she felt something warm and sticky run down her thighs. Rolling her eyes, she covered her face with her both hands, laughing nervously at her own, stupid act. That had been mindless. Claire cleaned herself and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body, before she walked back into the room.

Wesker wasn't there. She blinked into the room in confusion. Where had he gone?

The door opened and the blond came back in, fully dressed. He was carrying his car keys and something else. After closing the door, he turned to her and stretched his hand out. It was a blister pack with one single pill in it. Claire grimaced in disgust. She had never seen or taken one but, given the situation, she was pretty damn sure it was a morning-after-pill.

"What is this?" So, this question was actually needless.

"What do you think it is?" He took the glass from the desk and walked into the bathroom, filling it with water. Back in the room, he handed her the glass. "Take it."

Angry eyes pierced into his. Claire cleared her throat offendedly, but grabbed the pill and the water as she didn't want to argue with the blond. She emptied the glass flooding down the contraceptive, and stuck her tongue out, articulating a loud Aaah, showing him nicely what a good, obedient girl she could be. He gave her a dark look and turned back to the armchair.

"So, do you always run around with morning-after-pills?" She chuckled as she dropped onto the bed again. "You know, normal people usually have some aspirin with them." Claire grinned at his cold expression.

Wesker's eyebrow rose.

"What if I tell you that I confiscated that pill from Miss Valentine as she was about to take it the other day in the office?"

Claire's snug smile turned into a face of horrible disgust. Wesker laughed at her and she rolled her eyes. That had been low.

"Very funny," she hissed as she watched him sit down in the armchair again, taking up the bible. "I hadn't taken you for a religious man."

He huffed out a laugh.

"I am definitely not." He put his hand onto the book and looked at her. "But the latest reports I have to read, including another one of your brother's miserable writing attempts, are in the office. And there aren't many more things I could do against boredom."

Claire rolled her tongue over her teeth. He was such an asshole. A very good-looking asshole, admittedly.

"Well, you could talk to me," she suggested, ignoring his constant insults, lifting an eyebrow as he looked at her.

"Miss Redfield," he replied, flicking the bible shut. "Go to bed."

She grunted a little. How could he be such a jerk? Whatever, she wasn't in the mood for small talk with a grave keeper like him anyway. Claire slipped under the covers, turned her back to him and closed her eyes.

When she woke the next morning, Wesker was still awake, sitting in the armchair. He didn't speak a word to her, and neither did she. Claire got dressed and combed her hair with her fingers as she analyzed the bruises on her jaw and neck in the mirror of the bathroom. She would have to hide them somehow from Chris. Maybe that almost empty make-up tube Jill had left at their home could be of use to her. She left her hair down and walked back into the room. Wesker had already opened the door. Apparently, he was in a hurry. He could have woken her up if he needed to leave, she thought, but he could have also let her sleep in the room in the middle of nowhere without any way to get back home, so she actually preferred having to run now. The young man from the night before had been substituted by an older lady who offered Claire a bagel for breakfast. She declined politely. They checked out and went to Wesker's car.

The ride was as silent as usual. Wesker drove a little faster as the other times, but as it had stopped raining and the sun was already shining brightly, she didn't really care how fast he rushed around sharp curves.

"Your brother's shift ends in half an hour," he explained and pulled Claire back to reality. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be elsewhere, and that Chris would get home at some point of the night. She turned her head to him.

"I thought you were just attending an emergency call," she muttered and received an alarming nod from the blond. "Did something go wrong?"

Wesker, however, shook his head.

"Everything went well. Your brother just offered to cover Burton's night shift. He apparently has…" The Captain sighed. "Family issues."

He said the word family it in such a low, disgusted voice that Claire began to figure why he carried emergency contraceptives with him. Relieved that Chris was okay, she wondered what Barry's issues were about.

Wesker drove her back to the place where he'd picked her up the night before, pulling out a small card and money from his wallet and handing it to her.

"Your bike is in an underground parking lot," he muttered, watching the street behind them in the rear mirror, as Claire observed the ticket. "Next time you should take better care of your belongings."

He didn't say it with his typical, sarcastic demeanor. He was serious and seemed almost concerned. Claire shrugged her shoulders and forced a weak smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For everything." She cleared her throat and lifted her eyebrows. "You know? I wasn't here for fun," she explained, trying to justify her mindless acts from the night before. "I wanted… I wanted to speak to Jill, because…"

Her voice was trembling as she spoke. She had decided that Jill wouldn't be able to understand her intentions if she asked her to look after her brother and take care of him, so why would Wesker's reaction be any less ridiculing? However, something about the Captain made her want to trust him.

"Are you going to finish the sentence someday, Miss Redfield?"

She gulped down the knot in her throat.

"Can I ask you something weird?" Her voice was trembling when she pressed out the words, waiting for Wesker's response. It came in shape of a nod once he'd slid the shades to the tip of his nose. "You know that I'll soon be off to college, right? Would you… please… watch out that Chris doesn't do anything stupid in my absence?" It was the best way she could articulate her question without actually asking him to look after her brother. Wesker huffed out an annoyed laugh.

"I am not your brother's babysitter, Miss Redfield," he said coldly as the sunglasses were pushed back into place. "But, if it helps you ease your nerves, no one has ever died under my command. Neither on nor off-duty."

She smirked. It wasn't exactly the response she had wished for, but it was as good as a promise that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Chris. Her look dropped and she felt the corners of her mouth shape a smile.

"Thank you, Wesker," she whispered, caressing the parking lot ticket he had given her. After everything he had done for her in the past hours, she felt the need to reward him. "So, this Friday is our last one together. Do you have any… wishes… for this last time?" She asked shyly and felt like a high-class prostitute taking orders. Wesker, however, kept steady. He slowly turned to her.

"Miss Redfield, I think you should rest and take care of your bruises," he replied and left her speechless. "Also, if you are leaving on Sunday, you should probably get ready for your trip." Claire's lips shook a bit as she heard him speak. He lowered his head and his eyes darted at her face over his sunglasses. "You don't have to come anywhere on Friday."

Claire couldn't believe his words. Wasn't he taking his last chance to take advantage of her body? Had he eventually gotten tired of her? She was free, it seemed, but she still needed confirmation that her secret would remain untold.

"I see," she said, searching for the right words. "But, about all this… Chris… he can't know…"

Wesker blew out a breath.

"And he won't, Miss Redfield." His tone had gone back to frighteningly dark. "So, if you excuse me, now…"

She shivered. He was getting rid of her, having gotten back to his offensive, nerve-wrecking attitude. Hadn't she gotten to know him a little more, she would have felt insulted.

"Will you miss me?" She asked, not really knowing why she cared so much about it. "A little, at least?"

He grunted.

"Miss Redfield, what makes you think there is anything about you I would miss?" With these words, breathed in a smoky voice, he eventually dismissed her. Claire opened the door and jumped out of his car. Before she would close the door and let him leave, she turned around.

"Yeah, you will."

Wesker drove off, headshaking, leaving Claire standing on the street, at the start of a new day and a new life.

I know what you think.

You think I was in love with him.

Yes, at some point, I wished that, too. It would have made things much easier, despite being an impossible relationship itself. However, I knew that Chris was the only one who'd ever have the whole of my heart.

I genuinely believed I would never see Wesker again, not knowing how wrong I would be. Four days after that night, I left for college, leaving Chris behind, as well as my hometown, Raccoon City and Wesker.

Everything went well for one year. College was great. Not as exciting as I had imagined, maybe, but the classes were interesting, even though I shared them with a handful of very lost, very snobby people. I hadn't imagined to come across so many shallow fellows studying art. Anyway, I made a couple of friends and we went to see museums and concerts together. I had a great time.

I came back home for Christmas, for Chris' birthday and for mine. I had hoped my time in college would change anything about my feelings for Chris, but every time I came back to him, I just felt more attached to him. His hair had grown a little and he had gained some weight. Not around the hips, but his arms, and he looked simply wonderful.

I knew that it was wrong to come home during summer. I got myself a cheap summer job in my college town and avoided having to go back to Chris. It hurt to be so far away from him, but I knew it was the best for all of us, also because I wouldn't accidentally run into Wesker again. However, this way I was also kept away from the truth about Umbrella and that fateful night in July 1998, when Chris, Jill, Barry and their teammates ran into that mansion in the Arklay Mountains, and discovered Umbrella's and Wesker's dark secret.

Chris went to France not long after that. He had decided not to tell me anything before he'd come back. As I was busy with the job and with the soon-starting classes anyway, he believed I wouldn't notice that he wasn't calling me for several weeks.

He was such an idiot.

Of course, I noticed. I called him, but received no answer. So, on a warm September day, I jumped onto my bike and drove back to Raccoon City. I expected Wesker to have him working too hard and was ready to face the Captain again. Almost a year had passed since our ways had parted and I had grown up a little more. I knew I would be facing something inhuman again. I just didn't know how much of it I would really get.