Author's Notes: Yadayada, this chapter has been rough for me and I didn't get to add as much as I wanted to it. I couldn't make the fight scene flow with the emotions and I really, really wanted to add a fight scene. Instead this chapter became mostly the aftermath of the building's explosion. Emotions, emotions. Oh well, had to deal with some romance sometime. Can't always avoid it, can I? Don't worry, next chapter will be very violent. Very. I promise blood. Must appease those RE gods/desses. Comments can be sent to the reviews or to rhea@mayaku.org. Love 'yall.
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Chapter 4; Staring at the Sun
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The cold air hit his skin and he stopped abruptly right outside the building's exit. The world was completely silent except for the final sixty-second countdown that was echoing over the loudspeakers and his heartbeat. It was empty. His grip on Claire noticibly tightened as he surveyed the dead scene before him, neck and arms prickling with gooseflesh. It was as if he had happened upon on a stage exposed to no one and everyone at the same time and although his eyes told him they were alone, his mind begged to differ: Come see living dead boy. The feeling of being watched ran through his thoughts and he briefly considered waking her, then decided against it because she looked comfortable in his arms. He told himself that his paranoia was probably just a side effect from being suprised by the Bandersnatch earlier and kicked the thought out of his mind.
He scuffed his boot in the concrete and glanced at the various assortment of vehicles littering the area; their owners were inside the building, half-lying half-drowning in pools of their own blood. He shook his head. Christ. The computer broke him from his thoughts: "Forty seconds until detonation."
He broke into a clumsy jog and made a beeline to the jeep that was furthest
away. Placing Claire against it, he took a seat and looked at her. The teenage
boy heard a moan as she took a deep breath and watched her chest rise and fall,
smiling. He'd saved her. Her eyelids lifted up and her gaze slowly turned to
him. "Is it, are we..?"
He motioned for her to quiet with his finger, pressing it gently against his
lips. His other hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. "We made it." She looked up at him and that was when he noticed the tears that were streaking
down her cheeks. They welled up in her eyes and fell to the ground. His
instincts told him to pull her against him and so he did. She buried her face
into his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her shaking body and sobbed. He
gently pushed her against ground to shield both of them from the rubble that was
about to be sent into the air. He was still holding her. "It's over.."
"Oh.. Steve.." The rest of her words were drowned out by the alarms as they sounded for the final countdown.
"Self destruction in 5, 4, 3.." They were still trapped in the platonic embrace when the structure ceased to exist.
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The ground was shaking as she woke up next to Steve. Faint tremors ran up from the asphalt to her body, causing every nerve to feel like it was on fire as the pain coursed through her. She shuddered violently, then ran her hands over her exposed midsection and felt the bandages. As she took her hand off her torso, she noticed there was a sticky resistance. She stuck the hand out in the air and saw the red. Blood. Her blood. Her half-dried blood. Damn. No wonder everything ached. Claire lazily rolled over and turned herself away from him, straight into the smoggy air. She took a deep breath and exhaled sharply, choking on the ashes. The air was heavy with smoke and she could taste the burning, smell the burning and see the burning. The younger Redfield pushed herself up off the ground and glanced around, analyzing the situation they were in.
The first thing she noticed was that the twenty story building was gone. The only remaining evidence that the complex had ever existed were the piles of concrete that lay in its place, rebar sticking out of the ruins like broken bones. The parking lot seemed to be in mourning the loss of the tall landmark and a fire hydrant that was knocked over on its side wept, sending patches of water into the spreading fire. Ssschh. Her blue eyes darted to the car they had been lying against and she found that it was only slightly charred by the explosion. She looked down. Steve was propped up against the vehicle with his arms sprawled out, mapping where she had been. This brought a smile to her face, but the pain quickly ate it away. She staggered over, kicking him gently in the shoulder. "You alive?"
His eyes fluttered and he jumped up, banging his head against the side mirror with a thud. He blushed a little as he tried to stand and failed. "...Yeah."
Claire's hand automatically clamped over her mouth, stifling the giggles. He was so clumsy and cute. Especially cute. She offered her other hand to him. "Let me help you up."
There was a lengthy pause as he thought about her offer, but she already knew the answer was no. She sighed as he swatted away her arm playfully and stood, giving a shake of his head in her direction. He was looking her over and reassuring himself that she wasn't hurt too badly when his eyes came to a stop at her bandage covered stomach. "How bad is it?"
"A lot better." She lied, forcing a half-smile.
"Claire, give me the truth.." The girl's body language spelled out pain and her facial expression was faltering. A hand was casually placed on her hip, feinging a pissed off stance to hide the persistant burning in her gut. As he gave it another glance, he realized that she was applying pressure to the wound. He knew it hurt and her lack of emotion towards the injury gave him an understand what exactly Redfields were made of..
"Ok.. so it hurts like a bitch," she paused and searched for the right words, "..but it's nothing serious."
"I think there's still some first aid spray around here." As he saw her puzzled look, he added: "Check your packs."
"Sounds good." Claire started to search through the pockets. She took out the white cylander and popped the lid off with her thumb in one swift motion. "Hold this for me, Steve." She tossed him the bottle, letting the cap hit the ground with a thud as she lifted up her shirt to unwrap the blood-soaked cloth.
He deftly caught the first aid spray and nearly dropped it, startled by the cold metal against his warm flesh. She grunted in pain as she looked at the horizontal slash and his eyes turned to the red which streaked across her pale skin. It looked surreal. The blood resembled thickly applied make-up and it ran along the surface of her stomach in a curvy formation, stopping to clump together in the center, near her bellybutton.
"..Do you think you could help me?" The painful expression faded from her face to one that was void of emotion as she spoke.
"Of course." He pointed his index finger to the jeep. "Sit down on the hood."
She sat down on the off-white surface and dangled her legs over the edge, swinging them back and fourth. She motioned for him to spray her wound as she held up the shirt. "I wonder if this car still works." Hopefulness filled her voice.
"It probably does," after brief thought he said ".. are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Hotwire it. Leave this place. Go back to Leon and Chris?"
Leon? Leon? The guy she'd sent an email to? Were he and her an item? Leon? LEON? The name echoed through his head and he stilled. Leon, Leon, Leon. Leon's got your girl. Oh yes he does Burnside. Gonna get her back? Steve stood there, amazed by the jealousy that was overloading his brain. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Breathe big boy, breathe...
"Steve?"
He couldn't even look at her.
