A/N: This was actually written a week or so ago, but I guess I just didn't get around to posting it then, and I've only now found it hidden away in one of my file folders. I'm also working on another piece, so this story will most probably be updated within a week or two. The story is actually centered on Sherry, but please don't let that give you any notions about how it reads. I'm actually fairly pleased with the way it turned out.
Disclaimer: Resident Evil belongs to Capcom, and "Breaking the Habit" belongs to one Linkin Park.
Breaking Tonight
Memories concern like opening the wound
I'm picking me open again
You all assume I'm safer in my room
Unless I try to start again
Sherry turned up the volume on her stereo a notch to drown out the sounds coming from the next room.
" – not a thing, Leon. She's a person. We can't just dump her somewhere to go chasing after Umbrella!"
"Claire, I'm not saying that. But we can't let Umbrella go because Sherry's hanging around. We could leave her with one of your friends, or mine, for a week or two. Or maybe even Chris."
Irritated, Sherry turned the dial up again, until she could feel the bass humming in her bones. She couldn't hear the voices any more. A chilling breeze swept through the window and tugged playfully at the short, sandy locks of hair near her ears.
Sherry turned her face into the pillow and groped around for the window, slamming it down as hard as she could.
Why did they always think she couldn't do anything? Leon especially, but sometimes Claire was nearly as bad. She wasn't asking to go with them to any of Umbrella's plants, wasn't asking to pack heat or anything. All she really wanted was for them to ask her things. "Sherry, do you want to stay with my friend Laurel? We're going with Chris to try and track Umbrella," or, "We've got to go, Sherry, but my parents will look after you. Me 'n Claire will come get you when we're done. Would you like that?"
But no one ever asked. They stuffed her up in her room and expected her to be quiet – children should be seen and not heard – and to do what she was told – obedience is a gift, Sherry – and to never be a nuisance. Sherry tried hard, but when the nightmares got bad and she screamed and screamed and thrashed around, and bit her own tongue in her terrified frenzy, it wasn't her fault. And Sherry knew that Claire and Leon had nightmares, too. She didn't think they knew what they were doing with all their kindness, their conciliatory gifts and their sweet, soothing words.
They were ripping her up, from the inside out, very very slowly.
I don't want to be the one
Who battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused
The song changed, and after a moment Sherry sat up, turned down the volume a bit, and listened very carefully. There were no more voices. What are they doing? Claire and Leon never left the house without taking her with them, or at least telling her first. And the fights were never this short. Unless…
…unless they wanted to come in the room. Unless they were gathering themselves to tell her something. They wanted her to choose again. Choose between staying with some 'friend' and having someone stay in the house with her, Chris or Jill or Claire or Becca, or maybe even Carlos. Sherry didn't want to choose. Either way, she lost. And either way, she felt like she was letting someone down, disappointing one eager guardian or the other. It confused her, made her sad, and because she was confused she grew angry and lashed out, hurting them even more.
It's not my fault, Sherry always told herself, it's all theirs. Why do they always make me choose when they don't like what I choose? Why not just make me go somewhere? It's almost worse than them never asking me what I want…
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit
Tonight
She stared out the window dismally, waiting for the polite knock, the sweet inquiring voice to come. It was selfish, Sherry knew, but why couldn't they let Umbrella go? They were always running all over, trying to bring Umbrella to the ground, and it never worked. Why did they still think they could do it?
Sherry knew they couldn't. She'd lost faith long ago, probably after the first time Claire and Leon left her with Laurel, and they'd returned, scratched, bruised, bloody, jaded. Umbrella wasn't worth the time, and their single-mindedness about 'making them pay' angered Sherry, made her want to scream and shout and kick and fight them. How incredibly stupid it was, to think they'd ever change anything.
And, like with the confused anger, this anger made her say things too. Made her snap and snarl and reject their love, made her push them away even more.
Cultured my cure I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more than anytime before
I have no options left again
The music was on so loud that Sherry didn't even hear Claire and Leon enter, and she didn't hear them walk over the creaky wooden floorboards or stand over her, looking at the frail blonde pixie sprawled across the crumpled bed sheets.
"Sherry?" Claire looked worried; she had a faint line between her brows. Leon was frowning over Claire's shoulder. These were the things Sherry noticed when she rolled over to look at them.
"Didn't even knock this time, huh? How polite." The words were caustic, bitter. Claire's line deepened, and Sherry felt a pang of guilt.
"We tried, but you didn't answer. We were scared."
"For me? Very sweet of you. I don't need your concern. You can go away now." Sherry rolled over onto her stomach again and stared out the window, not seeing the trees rustling or the birds flying by, or even the flower beds – the flowers she'd helped Claire plant – stir in the breeze, dead petals falling from the withered stems.
"Don't talk to her like that, young lady," Leon said, nudging Claire aside. He put his hand on Sherry's shoulder to turn her over when the girl sat up suddenly, knocking his hand aside.
"Whatever, Leon. Hey, Claire – decide where I'm going yet? Laurel's? Or is Rebecca coming over again? Or maybe this time you'll just ship me off for good, to get me off your back."
I don't want to be the one
Who battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused
Sherry saw the tears forming in Claire's eyes and desperately wanted to give her a hug and burst into tears herself, but she bit the feelings back and instead glared at her.
"Well?" One huge tear spilled out of her eye and fell down Claire's cheek.
"Sherry…it's not like that. You know it isn't…" She turned and left the room, her choked sobs still audible. Leon turned and stared Sherry down, his eyes like twin sapphires. He grabbed her arms and leaned in close.
"Why!? Stop acting like you're three, Sherry! Claire loves you, she really loves you and this is what you do? This is it? Do you even know what she's like when she's away from you?"
He dropped her wrists and stomped out, slamming the door as he went. Sherry stared at the plain brown door until it blurred into a shapeless blob of color, distorted by tears and darkness.
Why did she act like that? What made her do it? Why…?
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit
Tonight
Sherry waited until well after midnight to creep downstairs. Patches of moonlight on the blue tile floor gave her light enough to find the freezer, and the box of butter cake on the corner of the counter, right where it always was. From the cupboard she took a bowl, a plate, a spoon and a knife and she sat down at the table for a midnight supper. Three thin, delicate slices of cake, three careful scoops of smooth vanilla ice cream.
A little piece of cake, a little bit of ice cream, taken together, was bliss. She ate it all, cleaned up after herself and crept back upstairs, staying away from the moonlit spots. At the top of the stairs, on one side, was the hallway leading to the den, and Sherry's bed and bath. The other hall went to the guest room, and then Claire and Leon's room.
She slowly snuck down the hall to their room, noting that their lights were off. The door was open, and she slipped inside like a wraith. Sherry walked around the bed, glancing down at Leon's mussed hair and bare chest, and over to Claire's side. She looked…exactly like she did when she was awake, except maybe a little less tired.
Sherry took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed. Time to make things right.
I'll paint it on the walls
'Cause I'm the one that falls
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends
"Claire?" Sherry shook her best friend gently, waiting for a response. "Claire?" The brunette blinked a few times, her blue eyes vivid even in the darkness. Her eyes widened when she saw Sherry.
"Sherry? Are you okay? What are you…" Sherry tugged gently on Claire's arm and pointed at the door. Claire got the idea, and carefully slid out of the covers, revealing plaid shorts and an oversized black T-shirt. Together the left the room, slunk down the stairs and disappeared into the backyard.
"Sherry – what's this all about?"
"I'm sorry, Claire." Sherry looked up at the moon. "I've been awful to you lately." Claire didn't say a word. No rebuttal – it would have been a lie.
"Why is that, Sherry? What's wrong? I wish you'd tell me."
It all came out in a flood, a gush of words and emotions together. When it was over, Claire held Sherry tightly.
"Oh, Sherry…" They were both silent for a while. "If you only knew how much we love you…"
Sherry nodded and curled up again, safe in Claire's arms.
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
To show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So I'm breaking the habit, breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight
Claire was in bed, sleeping again, and Sherry lay in her bed, staring out the window again. She wished she could forget all the bad things, forget Raccoon and her parents and just live with Claire and Leon, pretend that they were her parents and always had been.
But it couldn't be so. Some things can't be changed, only made better, and easier to bear. Sherry saw the treetops stirring, saw a bird fly by, and in the moonlight's glare she saw that the flowers she'd helped Claire plant were dying. She'd have to tell Claire, so they could plant new ones next week, while Claire and Leon and Sherry all took a break from Umbrella.