The hall of the Raccoon City Police Department was silent for a moment after Chief Iron's spoke. The clicking buttons of the telephones drew Claire's eyes and she noted one of the survivors who was calling around the city was still diligently at work. The father, along with the daughter that Briggs had treated, were turned around in their seats as they watched the altercation unfold. The young girl looked frightened; the upper half of her body was bowed toward her father. The father at her side had a deep frown that cut into the already folding skin at his cheeks; he wasn't amused at the situation.

Claire felt the bag on her shoulder lift, and she turned to see Leon looking at her with a quirk of a professional smile on his features. He nodded his head toward the survivors and Claire understood he meant to feed them the food they had retrieved from the vending machine. Lifting her arm to better assist the rookie take the bag, she felt warmth flare momentarily in her gut but pushed it down as she turned her gaze back to the chief and opened her mouth.

"Chief Irons," Claire began as she put a hand in her pocket and walked forward to join the side of Briggs. Her gaze momentarily caught the eyes of the other officers and a few of them gave her a slight nod as if to bid their favor on the war to come. "I'm glad to see the command is mostly intact for this station. You've lost a lot of men, and for that I am truly sorry."

Briggs turned his head slightly and gave his own nod at Claire's words. The fallen officer in the operations room wasn't far from Claire's mind. None of them were.

The man known as the chief was stout with broad shoulders. Claire was sure that in his early days, he was also a man who had kept himself sound in body and limb. The years of command behind a desk had turned his natural shape into a slight bloat that had reached his cheeks in a way that didn't seem as natural for aging. A large mustache hid the deepening frown that seemed to have a permanent residence on his face and dark brown eyes were caged in from an ever-turned down brow. The chief's well-tailored clothes did little to hide the stress-eating figure that seemed to vibrate with rage at her words.

Chief Irons didn't bother to turn his eyes to Claire as he kept his focus on his long-time rival beside her. Claire half wondered if the rivalry really had nothing to do with the budget that had swung RPD's way, but more to the standing that the RFD and Briggs had held over him.

She was also sure that her relation to Chris Redfield had much to bear in his dislike for her.

"You are both out of your jurisdiction and out of your scope of practice." Chief Iron's seethed toward Briggs.

"There are only two jurisdictions now, Brian." Claire threw out his first name and the breach of protocol; the fuse of her temper sizzled and curled like a snake in her chest. "The living and the dead. Where were you when the men and women of this station needed assistance on the next move of your city?"

"I'm not fucking talking to you, Redfield. I have very little faith in having your blood anywhere in command." Chief Iron's was finally looking at her, and it caused Claire's lips to pull back over her teeth in a vicious smile.

"You continue to meet my expectations too, chief." Claire's response caused another pause to fill the room. An officer coughed to hide a gasp.

"Sir," Marvin was stepping up beside them, the frown she heard over the radio was filling his features. "Firefighters Cheney and Redfield have been instrumental in helping us set up this command, and as your second in your absence, it was I who gave authority through such direction."

"Then you and I will be having a conversation later on your ability to navigate such circumstances effectively, Branagh."

"I'm sorry," George Scott cut in. The radio he had been glued to was hanging from his right hand before he gestured it to the space of the hall. "But what exactly is the issue with the command? We have our med station set up, lines of communication for the city and for units on stand-by for contact and are navigating the halls to safely get our supplies set-up without the loss of life. We also have Deputy Chief Raymond Douglas awaiting an evacuation plan down the street."

"You're out of turn, Scott." The Chief seemed to be backpedaling as his eyes darted around to the officers facing him. It was as if he realized how little support he actually had in the room. Title or not.

"And you're out of line, sir." Leon's voice carried over from behind them. Claire's eyes caught him standing near the young girl with the bandage on her side. She and the other two survivors were pulling at the protein bar wrappers that Claire had insisted that they grab before the candy bars.

Claire was still climbing the hill that was knowing who Leon Kennedy was, but she was certain that Leon had a high moral compass that had very little traction for the direction of an ill formed command. That high expectation of the city slicker was shining in his eyes.

At that moment, Kevin Ryman and Detective Elliot pushed through the side door. Detective Elliot had his arms full of wooden boards; a large pack on his back highlighted the fireworks they had located.

"Chief!" Kevin called in surprise. "What did we miss?"

The chief was turning toward the rookie with his mouth opening in snarl when Briggs finally spoke next. The chief almost seemed to have whiplash at the sudden intrusion of more of his officers.

Detective Elliot had a scowl of his own stretching across his face. It seemed that Chris wasn't the only one who disliked the chief.

"I'm not sure what your expectation was, chief, but whatever it is, I'd be happy to hear it." Briggs began in a smooth tone he saved for the children they sometimes had in the back of their rig.

The oldest firefighter paramedic in Raccoon city hardened his voice as he continued, "As I'm sure everyone else here would also like to hear it. You have a fair amount of experience at the helm of this city. It's also fair to state that this entire situation is unprecedented, so let's drop whatever it is between us; we have many lives at stake."

His calm tone only seemed to make Chief Irons angrier. The chief's face continued to grow more red, and the large fists at his side were clenching and unclenching slowly.

Claire suspected this was how their union meetings went as well.

"Agreed," Marvin said with his posture straightened. "What is it that you think we could do, chief?"

"It's clear to me where your loyalties lie." The chief huffed as he made to turn toward one of the doors on the east side of the hall. "You do what you think is best and I will do the same."

"You seem to be suffering from delusions of adequacy." Claire bit out as she took a step forward. Her ire was reaching it's peak as she watched the chief turn his back on his men and women. "Are we to understand that you're abandoning your command?"

Briggs' hand came down on her shoulder and Claire resisted the urge to shrug it off. She had thought Chris was overreacting when he described his chief on most occasions, but she knew now that she was going to have to start creating a list of apologies she needed to make to her brother.

Kevin approached Claire and Briggs; his eyes were searching Claire's as if he could catch up on the conversation by her expression of anger alone.

"I have my own avenues to take care of!" The chief yelled as he whipped back to the crowd of his officers and the two standing firefighters of the city.

"Clearly," Briggs said with a look of distaste crossing his features that Claire knew well. "We'll take it from here then, chief." He motioned his hand to Marvin, and Claire watched as the rest of the police station nodded their heads in a silent agreement.

The title of chief had fallen with the city and the man who held it was lost to his own devices. Marvin had been chosen and Marvin it would stay.

Claire's eyes caught sight of movement, and she almost gasped to see the new face she had missed in the great hall. A beautiful young woman was standing near the far end of the hall. Her white, short romper was smudged with dirt and grit that was reflective of her time most likely running to the police station. Claire only recognized her as Katherine Warren due to her status as the beloved daughter of Mayor Warren.

As the chief was moving toward the eastern hall door, he reached out a hand and wrapped it around Katherine's arm to pull her along.

"Hey!" Claire yelled, her booming call bouncing around the hall and making Katherine whip her blonde head over toward her. "Katherine, is that you?"

"U-Um," The young woman stuttered as she tried to dig her feet into the polished tile. Fear was clearly written across her features as she darted a glance at the reddening face of the police chief.

"Stop." Briggs commanded then and the chief let out a growl in response but obeyed.

A few officers around them were already catching on and there was a collective unbuttoning of holsters. Something had definitely shifted with the presence of the young girl. The chief must have felt it too as he paused with his hand on the door handle of the eastern office.

"Katherine, do you want to stay with us? We have food." Claire asked then, recognizing the odd situation for what it was. Rather than draw more attention to what already appeared to be something potentially inappropriate, she chose a safe topic. The chief no longer seemed to be making good decisions for himself.

Claire's eyes briefly connected with Briggs' and his stare let her know he thought the same.

"She's under my protection. I promised her father I would look out for her!" The chief said with a sneer toward Claire.

"I'm pretty sure she can make her own decisions on what she wants." Claire said carefully as she held Katherine's eyes.

"I-I am pretty hungry." The young woman relented in a small voice. Her frightened eyes were taking in the route of safety in Claire's.

"Why don't you come over here and grab some food?" Kevin spoke up then, he was taking steps toward her while his eyes seared into the chief of police.

"Don't come crying to me when these fools get you bitten!" Brian Irons yelled when he dropped her arm as if it burned him. He was pushing through the door and slamming it behind him shortly after.

Katherine seemed to let out a large breath that shook her entire frame. Kevin was crossing the tiled space and putting a hand around her shoulders while he steered her toward the other survivors who stood with Leon.

A few of the officers were looking toward Claire then. Briggs' hand was back on her shoulder and the squeeze he gave her spoke to a pride he expressed without words.

"What a creep." Claire breathed out as her posture seemed to relax now that the chief was gone. In a much quieter voice, Claire turned toward Marvin and said, "Marvin, what's your policy on compromised officers in command?"

"Well, that whole situation was a good start even without looking at the paperwork." Marvin said carefully as his eyes stayed on the door where the chief had disappeared through.

"Never seen that from the chief." Wes Drucker said hesitantly.

Kevin let out a snort as he walked back over from leading Katherine to the other survivors. "That's a fuckin' lie and you know it, Drucker."

Detective Elliot had his arms crossed as he made a careful stroll over to the rest of them. "Keep watch on the girl?" He asked Marvin.

Marvin nodded slowly and let his gaze wander over the newest young and beautiful survivor. "Definitely."

"Alright," Marvin called out to the rest of the people in the room. "Situation hasn't changed. Let's get back to work. We have boards and fireworks now. Let's secure the bottom halls and board up any rooms we don't need access to. Let's work in teams of four. One shooter, one back-up officer, and two to work on boarding up the windows. Those already with assignments need not worry, continue the work. We're doing good, people. Let's keep focused and we can all survive this."

The next two hours found Leon and Claire with their own duo of officers boarding up the windows on the western side of the police station while Kevin and Detective Elliot lead two other officers to do the same for the eastern side. The rain helped in masking the sound of the banging, but Leon and Kevin had their work cut out for them as they kept a watchful eye for enemies that would crawl through the windows at the sound that echoed out from the old building in the middle of the downtown area.

Claire kept at Leon's back as she had done previously. Leon made no further comment at her hand at his waist but seemed to keep Claire in his side view as he watched the halls. He had been shooting her appreciative looks as he had before, but there was something different in them now. Claire dared to wonder if it wasn't a mixture of awe and respect from her earlier words out in the great hall. A prideful smile had resulted as she thought of her exchange with the police chief.

Chris would be proud. Then again, Chris had always been proud of her, but she thought he would really have liked to have been present. The Redfield house had been creative in their insults for many years.

"Alright," Leon called as they boarded the last window near the stairs that sat beside the film developing darkroom in the western hall. "Looks good here. Redfield and I will continue to the second floor. Are you two good to get back to the main hall?"

Officer Tony Brown, the RPD K9 unit leader, nodded alongside Officer David Ford. Tony had used a paperweight found on one of the desks in the west office to hammer the nails through the boards in each wall while David had held the boards in place. Kevin had found a bolt cutter on the eastern side of the police station and Detective Elliot was more than happy to hand it over to the western team. Their path through the reception room was now unobstructed by the thick chain, and they were able to obtain access to the excess food from the cafeteria supplies.

Claire thought their odds seemed to be looking good, all things considered.

"Good to go, Kennedy." Tony affirmed sounding pleased with the work as well. "Nice shooting, by the way. Stay clear up there and radio if you need backup. Marvin said something about bathroom runs, and since this side is the only one with a functioning bathroom, just know we'll be down here if you come back this way."

"Got it." Leon said as he traded a smile with one of his senior officers.

Claire watched as the two men gave her a respectful parting glance and turned to head toward the western office door at the end of the hall. She tilted her head slightly as she watched them depart before she refocused to find Leon studying her.

"What?" She asked with a raised brow.

"You keep getting better and better, partner." Leon said with a shrug as he placed a boot on the first step of the stairs. A slight creak above on the second floor had both of them glancing up at the three-storied railings.

"Are assertive women in short supply in New York?" Claire asked with a little sass.

"Assertive, protective, authoritative, and intelligent? No—not short supply, but the combination is like getting the perfect cup of coffee from a new vendor at 8AM if that makes sense?"

Claire squinted at Leon for a moment as she too put a boot on the stairs beside him. "You started so strongly with the flattery before you turned me into a beverage."

"You've obviously never had a good cup of coffee from a hole-in-the-wall vendor before. That was equivalent to a marriage proposal for some people on the east coast." Leon was flashing her that boyish smile and Claire held back her reaction as she put a hand at his lower back and pushed him to begin climbing the stairs.

"This is the small-town version of swooning, don't worry." She retorted with a pleased tone and shook her head.

A female officer with dark hair stumbled down the stairs on the landing above them; Leon took aim and dealt with the zombie in a single shot. Collapsing onto her back, the woman's badge reflected the light from a swinging fixture that had come unhinged from its position in the ceiling above.

Claire stopped and let go of Leon's belt loop to drop down beside the woman. The female officer had been young; close to Claire's age. A large bite had torn out the front of her neck and exposed the trachea beneath the cartilage.

Claire was pulling the officer's badge from her lapel, and she quietly placed it in her own pocket. A small prayer was on her lips when she looked up to see Leon staring down at her with the solemn study she was beginning to know more and more.

"The city should know who fell." She said softly as the badge felt like hot lead in her pocket. Leon was nodding and this time he took her hand before he began to push through into a locker room on the second floor.

"We'll both make sure to let people know what happened here." Leon finally said as he stared at another body that lay on the ground, unmoving. For good measure, he slid a knife through the corpse's temple and handed Claire another badge without her having to ask.

Claire clutched the badge in her hand tightly and found herself staring at Leon's back.

How many more would fall before that became a reality? Claire's mind went to the wound on Briggs' arm and the few other officers and survivors that had similar bites. She was moving quickly to follow Leon and placed a hand at his back again. Her hand was curling around his shirt as if the rookie's steady warmth could dispel the nightmares to come.

The S.T.A.R.S Office seemed to be untouched to the nightmare that the rest of the station had endured. There had been no zombies in the room, but the large space with multiple desks and the small office had a similar disarray that spoke to a quick departure of the team and the riffling that came with internal investigations.

Claire's eyes caught on the familiar brown bomber jacket that hung on the wall of Chris' desk. Chris had a similar jacket made for Claire for when she rode her motorcycle. Both jackets held the same voluptuous angel that cradled bombs with the words above that read, Made in Heaven. Chris' jacket was an air force flight jacket that he had designed from his reputation in the military. The phrase, Made in Heaven, had come after.

Claire let out a small laugh to see her red jacket on the back of his chair. She had forgotten it the last time she had visited the station in May earlier that year. When her fingers closed around the red leather, Leon gave a small chuckle.

"You guys wore matching jackets?"

"Stuff it, Kennedy. You're not in the club yet." Claire retorted with a small grin.

She was gripping the material of her button-up uniform shirt, and quickly pulling it off with relief.

From her time with the dog down in the basement and the multiple different occurrences in the station, there were a few splatters of liquids that she hadn't wanted to give much thought to. She also had a thought that the leather would better protect her against bites than polyester would.

When she stood in her tank top with her leather riding jacket in hand, she heard Leon take in a noisy breath behind her and she winced to realize what she had exposed.

Along Claire's toned back were burns that spanned from beneath the material of the tank top that peeked out at her shoulders and down the backend of her left arm. The doctors had done their best with the skin graft after they had scrubbed out the clothing that had burned into her skin all those years ago, but the scar tissue was still highly noticeable on her pale skin.

"On the job?" Leon asked softly behind her as he took a step closer.

Feeling a vulnerability that she thought she had overcome many years ago, Claire shook her head and pulled the tight red leather across her shoulders quickly. "No, this was before I became a firefighter."

Claire was turning to look over her shoulder at Leon and he seemed to understand a touchy topic and looked a touch remorseful. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright," she said with a quick shrug and an even quicker attempt at humor. "I guess this takes me down a peg on the coffee order."

"No," Leon said seriously as he met her stare dead on. "It doesn't, Claire."

He was turning away then and moving toward a glowing computer screen near the caged off wall that held a few weapons behind a gate.

Claire's throat bobbed with the intense burst of emotion that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. She dug her nails into her palm and took a moment to collect herself from the past. With a shaken breath, she turned back toward the desks and began her search for supplies they could take down to the great hall.

"Going to need a USB." Leon called out behind her as she pulled open Rebecca Chambers' medic bag and began to pile some of the left-over equipment into the satchel at her side. The rookie medic of the S.T.A.R.S. had kept her equipment well stocked.

"No breaking in, huh?" She responded after clearing her throat.

"Only so many misdemeanors in one day, I suppose." Leon answered as he began to pull open the drawers of Barry Burton's desk.

"It was a fire in my family home." Claire found herself saying out of turn.

She heard the shuffling at the desk go silent behind her.

Claire bit the inside of her cheek and bunched her shoulders at the slip. With scraping courage, she looked over her shoulder to see Leon had in fact paused in his search to stare at her over the row of desks. Claire turned back to him while she let her eyes roam over the room and away from Leon to gather the fortitude to continue what she started.

"They didn't need to call a Fire Inspector to know it was an arson case; the empty can of gasoline was found in the hall near the bedrooms. My father hadn't been well for years—He had been in and out of doctor's offices and our mother had been working two jobs just to be able to afford the mortgage." Claire began softly. Her hands fluttered to the collar of her jacket and she gripped the material until it squeaked from the pressure.

"Chris had just been accepted into the military, so it was me at home most of the time who watched over him. I was homeschooled for a few years during that time." Claire's voice broke once before she continued and laid a hand on Jill Valentine's desk to steady herself as she spoke of her home and her broken family.

She hadn't spoken of this in years. Chris didn't like to discuss it anymore; he had felt guilt at not being home at the time. He felt as if he had failed his family.

From the corner of Claire's vision, she could see as Leon set something down on Barry's desk and was slowly making his way to her.

From that closed off space inside of her, she barely understood her desire to share as she continued, "I woke up first as the smoke alarm was wailing. It was late and my mother tended to sleep hard after working for 16 hours a day. She was a heavy sleeper in general—we used to joke that she could sleep through air sirens. When I managed to get into her room, I thought she was just being her normal self and hard to wake. Later, after I understood more in the years to pass, I realized that my mother had inhaled too much, and her deep slumber that didn't allow her to wake when she needed to was from sleeping pills she took to rest."

Leon was in front of her now, his head was tilted down to her, and she still didn't meet his eyes.

"I carried—" Claire stopped and shut her eyes for a moment. When she took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, she finally turned to look up at the man before her. "I'm sorry. This is inappropriate. I didn't mean to share that—I think I'm stressed, and I tend to talk a lot—"

"You carried your mother out?" Leon interrupted softly. "How old were you?"

"14," Claire breathed as she looked back and forth between his somber eyes. "I tried to carry her out and I almost made it, but the stairs gave out and I dropped her. She was such a small woman and I dropped her. I fell back and the fire beneath the stairs melted my nightgown when it erupted forth. By the time I knew what was happening, the firefighters were pushing through the door, and they had my mother out before they carried me out to the lawn where the medic crews waited."

"And your father?" Leon's tone miraculously held no judgement. Something seemed to be leaking out of his own eyes as he pulled up a chair for her to sit in from Jill's desk.

"We should probably get moving." Claire said nervously as she looked down at the chair.

"We can if you want to." Leon said as he pulled another chair forth and sat down before her. He was letting her decide if this conversation continued.

Claire sat into the chair heavily, the leather of her jacket creaked like a gentle reminder of the history that led to the words inscribed on the back of her jacket. Made in Heaven was for her mother.

"My father died. He had doused himself with gasoline in the house before he set the fire. They found his body last."

"And your mother?" Leon questioned hopefully.

"She was strong." Claire uttered in a hoarse whimper. A single tear slipped past her right eye and she furiously wiped the offending liquid away and cleared her throat again. "She was strong, and she made it for a few weeks before she slipped quietly from this world. She had inhaled too much smoke and had stopped breathing a while before I had even found her. My father had started the fire in their room first. Parts of her brain had already died from the lack of oxygen. The doctors wouldn't explain this to me while I was undergoing my own treatment. They waited for Chris to arrive and to be given release from the military to take care of personal affairs. I was a minor and I needed a legal adult with me."

Claire released a large breath and wiped at her nose before she looked up at Leon. "I'm sorry, Leon. I didn't mean to spill this on you."

"I'm an orphan myself," Leon said as he turned his gaze to look at the brown bomber jacket at Chris' desk. "My parents died in a gang related shoot-out in New York when I was 9. I suspect the surname Kennedy still holds a sour taste in the mouths of those who knew them. Spent my time in an orphanage growing up. No siblings on my end."

Claire paused as she looked on at the rookie before her.

"I became a cop because it was a cop who saved me from the same fate. I was with my parents when the shootout happened in our luxury apartments. I had been hiding when the officer had made his way into our home. The gunfire was distant at that point—I suspect whoever killed my family had been trying to make their exit when the cop showed up; a lone officer who announced himself and stopped the people from finding me in my location in our hall closet."

Leon turned back to her and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes held the same kindred stare she had seen in herself for many years. "The officer told me to stay put while he held his position in the hall and waited for back up. A few officers lost their lives that night, but that one stayed with me and often visited me at the orphanage." Leon lifted the gun still in his hand slightly. "He was the one who gave me this as a graduation present."

Claire looked down at her lap and gave a soft, sorrow filled laugh. "We both gravitated to careers that played a role in giving us hope."

Claire could see Leon nodding from the corner of her vision. His warm hand gently settled on her leg, and she found herself looking back at him once more.

"Thank you for sharing that with me—that wasn't inappropriate. I appreciate knowing this about you. I haven't ever told anyone of my family, Claire, and I'm glad it was you first."

Claire was grasping his hand between the two of hers and the tears that followed were not ones she chose to wipe away in shame this time. "We're going to make it. The both of us, Leon."

"I know we are," Leon's smile felt like a door that opened in Claire's chest. "I'll make sure of it, Claire."

After Claire and Leon had cleared the library and took note of the barricaded gate that held a statue of a maiden in the west storage room, they had moved toward the hall that led to the outermost level of the great hall. Claire looked down to see the smaller forms of the officers and survivors that were working down at the front desk. Nothing seemed amiss and Claire pulled her top-half from back over the railing on the third floor.

After their discussion in the S.T.A.R.S. office, something had changed between her and the rookie. Chris often spoke of the kinship that held strong between soldiers in war. Claire had never been in war or anywhere near such an atmosphere, but she was certain that their new reality could be considered as such. More than that, that bond between them as they spoke of their families and their trauma had unlocked a sense of trust that often took years to form. It was easy to understand that Leon truly did bare a similar loss and could hold such a space for her to share hers.

There was something new in Leon's eyes as he gazed at her and spoke with her softly when he issued commands. He wasn't just an officer protecting a charge anymore. There was something shared and equally valued between the both of them now, and Claire would be lying if she said it didn't make her feel safer than she had in years. Usually, it was Briggs who she found herself speaking these truths to. A portion of the story she had left out when speaking with Leon was that it was Briggs who had treated her in the back of the ambulance when the fire had destroyed her home and her family.

Briggs had been the steadfast soul that had treated her the best he could with limited resources for burns that severe and could only hold her hand as his partner at the time rushed them to Raccoon Memorial. She would never forget the kindness in his eyes and steady tone he used with her when she continued to cry about her mother and father while the sirens wailed outside the rig through the dark streets of Racoon City.

When Claire had recovered months later, she had asked Chris to investigate contacting the fire station that had responded to their house. Raccoon being as small as it was, it hadn't been hard to find Briggs.

As a broken, 14-year-old girl, Claire had marched into the fire station and met Briggs in the garage where he had stood stocking their rig before his shift. His surprise at seeing her had lined every inch of his aging face. Briggs' smile only broke once at the tear filled way she had thanked him for helping her and let him know that her mother in the other unit hadn't made it through.

In Claire's grief, the only way she knew how to share it was by thanking the men and women who had helped her during it. Men and women who knew the darkness of loss every single day and still had the courage to do it again for the next shift.

The fire captain at the station had offered to feed them that night when Briggs would be off shift. Chris had declined the invitation—he had grieved differently—but Claire had returned and found herself cracking a smile at the men around the table who had tried to make her feel at home.

She would do it for years to come.

Chris had managed to get a small apartment on his salary through the military. While the court case was pending for guardianship, Chris had made his own downward spiral into depression as he too grieved for the family he lost and his new position as a brother and father figure to his only surviving family member. Barry Burton had been in Chris' military unit at the time and was considered a close friend. With the help of Barry and his wife Kathy Burton, Chris had won guardianship under the conditions that Claire would stay with Kathy Burton while he was deployed for his last 3 years.

The Burtons helped both Claire and Chris in ways they may never be able to pay back.

In between her time attending public school for the first time in a few years, and therapy, Claire found herself visiting the fire house to volunteer with the men and women of Station 9. She wasn't allowed to touch any equipment, but they had allowed her to clean different parts of the station and learn more about the fire engine and the ambulance's maintenance. Her love of motorcycles had been from the engineer, Tim Sutherland, who rode a 1986 Ducati 750 F1 Desmo.

"If you want to learn to ride a beast, kiddo, you need to learn how to take care of it." Tim would chide when he would catch her sitting on the motorcycle's seat in the parking lot. Tim had been the one to teach her to ride.

"Last stretch, Claire." Leon's voice quietly interrupted Claire's trip into the past. She blinked a few times and found herself still standing at the railing before the last brown door to their left. "You alright?"

"Yeah, sorry." She said as she uncurled her hands from the iron of the railing and pushed her bangs from her eyes. "Just got a little lost there for a second."

"Jacket seems to have been made for you. Anyone ever told you that you look good in red?" Leon was moving to the last door, but the look he tossed over his shoulder was genuine.

"I think it's the hair," Claire said with a huff at the messy ponytail that hung behind her. "My father was Irish; Chris lucked out with my mom's color."

"My family was Italian. I had to ditch the gold chains before anyone could put the pieces together." Leon equipped. "I'm sure you could dye it, but I find the color beautiful."

Claire smiled as she followed behind him and tilted her head slightly at his back. "Preference for redheads, Kennedy?"

"Doesn't matter to me." he said with honesty as he pushed the door open and looked in at the heavy machines that were connected to the high bell tower that stood over the police station. "Although, I am glad to know that Ryman prefers blondes. I guess I didn't have anything to worry about."

"Ryman prefers blondes?" Claire asked with a level of curiosity in her tone. "How do you know that?"

"You didn't see the dinner bells in his eyes at the girl Katherine?" Leon asked with a small laugh as he studied a gear shift mechanism that had a part missing.

"I don't know if that counts, that girl is gorgeous."

"Well, sure, but it's the waitress at J's Bar that I think seals the deal. Blonde too."

"Are you talking about Cindy Lennox?" Claire squawked in disbelief.

Leon was grinning as he turned toward her. "That's the one. She makes turning him down into a routine. I personally think she's sweet on him; she is much more forward at declining her other clientele. Could be that he's a cop though…risky waters? I don't know."

"God, Cindy is so nice; I went to school with her. She wants to be a nurse, but she's saving up for school." Claire murmured as she wondered about her old friend's fate. "I actually think that would be kind of cute—wait, are you telling me that Kevin has been making passes at me and Cindy at the same time?" Claire was putting her hands on her hips as Leon picked up an orange box from one of the tall beams.

"Is that jealousy?"

"No," Claire's right hand cut a straight line through the air before her to punctuate the declaration. "I really am not into Kevin, but Cindy deserves better than that. That little pig—sorry, that's not a cop reference—I can't believe him. I'm going to give him and that haircut a piece of my mind later."

Leon was touching his hair that was almost cut in a similar design.

"Stop it, your hair is fine." Claire blurted with a choked off laugh as he placed whatever he found in the orange box in his pocket.

Leon was looking to retort when the radio at his hip went off with a burst of static.

"Command to Kennedy and Ryman." Marvin's voice cut through the dust filled air of the bell tower room.

"Kennedy here, go ahead command." Leon responded with ease as he lifted the radio.

"Ryman here," Kevin's voice followed shortly after.

"Report back to command. We have an update for the Deputy Chief's situation. We're going to have to decide quickly." Marvin's voice was curt, and it made Claire and Leon share a look.

Both Leon and Kevin responded in an affirmative and Leon was making his way back to the door. Before he opened the thick oak door, he reached back for Claire's hand and made to check the hallway.

"I'm pretty glad it's Marvin in charge." Leon said offhandedly as he led them back toward the library and toward the second-floor entrance to the main hall.

"You haven't been here that long, and you already were mouthing off to the chief like the rest of us." Claire said as her eyes wandered around the beautifully built library of the police station. They had taken out a few zombies in the area; the collection of badges was becoming heavy in Claire's pockets.

"Didn't even need to be here a day to know that wasn't a man I wanted to follow. I didn't get to speak with the deputy chief that much, but Marvin is my direct supervisor and I respect him. He knows how to ask for leadership while displaying a reason to trust it." Leon replied simply.

"I know what you mean." Claire said as they made it to the double doors and pushed into the great hall. "I'm also glad it's Marvin and that the rest of the officers backed him and Briggs earlier."

"We know leadership when we see it, and both Briggs and Marvin did the best they could in a horrible situation. I'll honor that with a dying breath."

"You're not allowed to die, Kennedy." Claire meant it as a joke as they stepped into the hall, but it came out gravely serious.

Leon slowed his stride a bit and looked back at her. His hand that still held hers squeezed once firmly.

"Sorry, that was a little more abrupt—" Claire began.

"Is that an order, Ms. Redfield?" Leon asked with that flirty smile finally returning.

"I—Yes, it is." Claire finally relented with a smile to match. The door in her chest that had opened earlier seemed to be swinging open wider and was threatening to pull her inwards.

"Duly noted, sweetheart." Leon said quietly as he gazed at her before he continued to walk down toward where the other officers waited.

Claire laughed quietly to herself and muttered something about Italian flirts, and it made Leon snicker good naturedly as they approached where Marvin waited with Kevin and the rest of the men and women.

"So," Marvin said with a heavy breath as he lifted the other radio they had been using to talk with the deputy chief who was trapped near the Apple Inn. "The mob outside of where the deputy chief is positioned has only grown. He's barricaded him and the survivors in the back bathroom. There's not a back window for them to escape from, so they're all trapped in there as the mob begins to tear the place apart."

The news had the smile falling away from Claire's face and she took a deep breath. Briggs was looking over Marvin's shoulder with a grim look across his older features.

"How long do you think they have?" Wes Drucker asked beside Marvin.

"20 Minutes at most." Marvin answered with a deep sigh. "I don't know if we can position the fireworks in time to move our mob away from the front entrance and make it down there in time. It's costly."

Katherine Warren was standing by the other survivors still; someone had given her a police jacket and Claire's wandering mind half suspected that she'd find the words 'K. Ryman' on the front. Shaking herself from trivial thoughts, she looked around at the other officers. Rita Phillips was frowning down at the maps on the desk before she lifted her head at them all.

"I have an idea, lieutenant, but it's not the best." Rita called.

"Let's hear it, Phillips." Marvin said, turning toward her.

Rita lifted a yellow, age-worn map that Claire hadn't noticed previously. "This is the original building layout from when this station was a museum. We constructed a new one with the conversion to the police station. A lot of things were covered over as they held no use to us. There's a long-forgotten vent-shaft tunnel that can be accessed in the basement and will lead out to that little patrol shack in front of the building. You know the one? Below the stairs where we keep the extra uniforms?"

Marvin was nodding and he stepped up toward Rita to glance down at the map. "What's the catch? I assume there is one."

Rita sighed and looked up at the lieutenant before she said, "There always is. You assigned me to maintenance a few times when Phil was out on PTO. Part of his cleaning list was making sure nothing got caught in those vents around the station and keeping them clear so we didn't get knocked on fire hazard inspections. The vents are very small; I don't think many of us will fit. I'm pretty sure the only ones who could fit are myself and…" Her eyes trailed over to Claire.

Claire's eyes were on Rita's wounded leg once more. Rita wouldn't be able to traverse the vents and make it down to the Apple Inn in time.

"I'll do it." Claire said as she lifted her gaze toward Marvin.

"Now, wait a minute—" Briggs was speaking up behind them with that frown deepening across his features.

"There's no time." Claire said with the conviction she held with her role as a firefighter. "The deputy chief risked his life for this city's citizens and if we have the power to do something, we need to do it and do it now."

"Wes, get me a pack loaded with supplies and fireworks, she'll need a distraction." Marvin said after a brief pause. "Are you sure about this, Redfield?"

"Yes," Claire breathed as she emptied the badges on the table before Marvin. When the lieutenant's brows furrowed in confusion, she took a breath and explained, "Your fallen officers, sir. I wanted people to know what happened to them."

Marvin swallowed harshly and nodded before he said, "Your brother would be proud of you, Claire. I'm damn proud to have you serving with us."

Claire managed a tight smile while she grabbed the pack that Wes quickly put together and handled over to her. A holster and shotgun were also handed to her.

"You know where you're going?" Wes asked.

"Like the back of my hand." Claire said simply as she envisioned the streets she traversed every week. She met Wes' eyes with a confirming nod before she moved over to Rita to allow the female officer to show her the twists and turns of the ventilation shafts. Luckily for Claire, there were only three turns she would need to make to find her way toward the patrol shack vent.

"You radio us when you're on your way back. We'll get in position to move our mob for your entry." Marvin said as Claire strapped the holster and shotgun to her leather clad back.

"I'll take her down to the basement." Leon was saying in a somewhat tight voice behind her. It made Claire lift her eyes to the rookie's and she knew the worry he held in his eyes.

"Let's get moving then." Marvin said.

"Claire," Briggs was pushing through the officers to look at her steadily. He seemed a little paler than the last time she saw him. Claire tried to convince herself that he was just tired from the night, but her eyes drifted down at his bandaged arm despite the thoughts. "You watch your back and if you can't get through, you get yourself safe first. You know our rules; you're no help to anyone if you go down, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Claire said with the eyes of the 14-year-old girl looking into the man she had considered a secondary father. Briggs' eyes reflected that very same care and he nodded gruffy before he gripped her arm and gave her a squeeze.

EMS personnel were trained that scene safety was first before any call that was run. If a scene is considered "safe," this meant that there were not any obvious potential threats or hazards that could impede the EMTs from doing their work or bring them harm. This could be anything from an electrical hazard to an active shooter to an agitated patient—or now a zombie. When entering a scene, EMTs are taught priorities in a specific order: 1) personal safety, 2) safety of their partners or colleagues, and 3) care of the patient. Any threat to one prevents moving forward to the next.

Police officers were different in this regard as they were equipped with lethal force. They were trained to go into a hostile scene to secure it at the possible costs of their lives.

Although the scene hazards were a little more dire than anything like downed power lines, Claire knew Briggs was saying that her life came before she decided to render aid at the expense of herself.

"Keep her safe on the way, Kennerbeck." Briggs said to Leon as a smile slowly crossed the corner of his mouth.

When Leon frowned a bit Claire couldn't help a small laugh at the private joke they had on pronouncing Leon's surname wrong.

"Briggs!"

"Sorry, Kenly."

Not clued in, Leon just nodded and finally smiled at the obvious ongoing joke between them. Claire would have to explain it later.

Despite the new smile on Leon's face, Claire also realized she wasn't sure who was more worried at this moment: Leon or Briggs.

With the last-minute instructions given, Marvin handed Claire a radio to clip to her belt, and Leon led her toward the door to the east office and would loop them around through the watchman's office and down toward the basement parking where she and Briggs had initially entered the station.

Claire was thankful that Leon was so steady with his aim; a few more dogs had been wandering down in the basement hall toward the kennels. The two dogs that had emerged were slick and dripping with gore as the first dog had been. Claire tried not to focus too hard on their cooling forms as she stepped over the corpses and toward the shooting range where the vent was waiting.

Leon hadn't said much on their journey down to the basement. He seemed to be lost in thought as he carefully led Claire safely down the halls. When he pushed the door open to the shooting range, he paused before he turned to look at Claire.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked as he lowered his gun at his side. Nothing moved in the dark shooting range to their left.

"Not really, but there's no time to debate it. I have the power to help and so I will." Claire answered honestly as she shut the shooting range door behind them.

Leon stepped up to Claire after holstering the unique Magnum at his side. Warm hands were cradling her face suddenly as he closed the space between them; their chests bumping briefly together as the blue-eyed gaze of the rookie cop seemed to take in every detail in her shocked face.

"Come back to me, partner." Leon said gently. His thumb was running over her cheek bone on the right side of her face and Claire found her eyes shuddering at the gentle touch and she leaned forward into it without a thought. "That's an order too."

"I will." She managed to whisper as she reached up and gently held the left wrist that belonged to the thumb running across her face.

"If I don't hear from you within the hour, I will come find you." Leon vowed as a touch of something visceral entered his tone.

"Careful, Kennedy," Claire uttered when she watched his eyes dip down toward her lips like they had in the reception room. "People talk."

"Good." Leon said as he released her face and took a step back. "I've decided that I most definitely prefer redheads anyway. The secret is out."

Claire watched as Leon moved toward the vent and made quick work of unscrewing the bolts that held it in place. When he set the grate down beside his feet, he shined his handheld flashlight into the vent and gazed within. His other hand was fiddling with something at his hip.

"Take this," he said, turning back to her. The small hip-flashlight he had been using previously was in his grip. Wasting no more time, he was clipping it to the breast pocket on her red jacket. When he switched it on, the light bounced off his chest and half shined into the dark vent shaft beside them.

Claire let out a breath and stepped up to the vent, her sweating hands were gripping the sides when she was lifting her right knee to climb in.

"Claire," Leon's hand was on her hip to help her in.

Claire was on her hands and knees in the vent, and she barely had enough room to look back at Leon whose flashlight was pointed down at the shaft of the vent. The light was rebounding slightly off the metal, and it made his sky-blue eyes glow as he looked in at her.

"Yes?" Her voice came out steadier than she felt.

"...You can do this." He said after a moment. Claire had the feeling that he wanted to say something else, but the sincerity of what he did say touched her heart. She heard the undertone of that message too.

You've been through worse.

"I'll come back to you, Leon." She said as she held his gaze. Something stronger wavered behind his eyes and he nodded as he gritted his jaw.

Staring at him was making her want to stay, and with that realization, Claire turned back toward the dark shaft ahead of her. She quickly made her way, hand over knee, toward the first bend she knew was coming. The light from Leon's flashlight was soon out of sight with her turn and Claire felt the cloak of fear that the rookie had been keeping at bay fall back over her shoulders.

It was with another realization that Claire really took in the looks that Leon had been giving her lately. She had only seen similar looks from the people who truly cared about her. Her brother, Briggs, Barry, and Kathy Burton; they were all people who absolutely saw her for who she was. They were the ones in her circle that knew what she had overcome and decided to do with her life despite all odds.

They made her feel like she mattered in a world filled with so many people who were just trying to do the same beside her: Survive and make their lives into something more than where they came from.

Leon's look was similar but with a different kind of care that underlined the emotion. Claire had just made the second turn down the shaft when she decided that when she saw Leon again, she would explore that emotion while there was still time.

Claire reached the last turn in almost no time at all while her thoughts were swirling about the situation and the ever-present thoughts of Leon Kennedy. Using the small tool that Rita had directed her to take, Claire was unscrewing the vent to the patrol shack carefully. When the last screw at the top was almost out, Claire curled her fingers through and held the vent steady so that it wouldn't drop noisily to the floor.

The air was cool in the patrol shack; the rainy weather chill was piercing in the tiny space while she leaned out to lower the vent as carefully as she could on top of some boxes that lined up against the wall with the vent hole. The chorus of moans got louder as she slid out of the vent shaft and looked around at the flashlight lit space that was no bigger than a ticket booth. A small row of lockers lined the far wall, and some inspirational posters were plastered on the other wall. The door ahead of her had light creeping in through the cracks from the lamp post she assumed stood just outside.

She had to be careful now that she didn't have the cover of darkness.

Claire took a steadying breath and pulled her hair down from the messy ponytail. Combing her hands through the tangled strands, she closed her eyes for a moment and redid the ponytail while she centered her thoughts and what she needed to do. When her eyes opened again, they were harder and purposeful.

Steady hands that she worked to own pulled the shotgun off her shoulder. Chris had instructed her how to hold the stock wrist in one hand while hunching her shoulders to place the butt of the shotgun at the shoulder pocket to brace. Her finger rested lightly on the side of the trigger curve as she stepped forward and pushed the door open to the outside world.

Two zombies were waiting on the outside of the shack, and with the creak of the door, they both turned toward the youngest surviving Redfield with hungry moans.

The blast of the shotgun was a bark into the night as the two bodies fell back and away from Claire. With a burst of speed, Claire was bounding out of the shack and toward the courtyard that was sprinkled with more enemies. As Claire ran, she thought of the words her mother used to whisper to her before she had left for her night shifts.

"The goddess I worship more than all the others,
the one I choose to help me in this work,
who lives with me deep inside my home,
protect what is mine when I cannot."

Amicia Redfield had been a woman of strength and integrity when she had been alive. She came from a family of sisters, aunts, and grandmothers; the men didn't tend to live long or at all in Amicia's lineage. The family had laughed about a curse for years, but Claire's mother was heir to the wise women, the herb healers, and the women who had always buckled down to do what needed to be done even at the cost of themselves.

Claire now was the successor of that.

Claire dodged the grasping hands of her fallen citizens with steps led by purpose. Her determination built as she shouldered out of the gate and into the dead city where those survivors waited for help that may or may not come in time.

"Protect what is mine when I cannot." Claire whispered aloud to herself and to whatever entity was listening above as she thought to the blue-eyed cop waiting for her and the father that didn't share her name.

A/N: Whew, I'm back from my September travels! Sorry this took so long to get out. Thanks for reading!

9/29/2022 Note: Thank you to evolution-500 for pointing out that I spelled 'Heroes' incorrectly in my title. My god, what kind of paint have I been inhaling lately? Thank you, Evolution, for saving me from myself.