No Balm For Grief 3

By: Hotaru

Notes: So, people seem to be liking this. Yee. It's all good. No J-pop in this chapter! Someone asked, I think about a song from a previous chapter or something...but I couldn't find it. Anyway.

To the reviewers:

Hartman (for Chapter 1)- Ok?

Scoobysnax- It's all good. And yes, you're right, Japanese music does rock! I've been listening to it while writing lately, and then I looked for the translations of the songs I really liked to see if any where appropriate for the fic. I could have just substitiuted Anemone instead of Honey for the last chapter but...oh well. Ready Steady don't hold me back! Ready steady give me good luck! Ready, steady never look back! Let's get started, Ready, steady go!

Peeping Shadow-Monkey- I had a dream once that there were monkeys trying to kill me O_o;; Glad you're enjoying it. I actually forget exactly what happened with the Yawn...but it would have been awkward to have Chris all mushy-mushy about Richard. I played Jill's scenario first. So that's the one I guess. The serum! THE SERUM!!! AIii. Ok. My head hurts now.

Tek- The love of the Japanese music is spreading. My plan is working. Mwuahahah!

Kez- It's my goal to make people cry. If someone sheds a tear while reading this...my goal has been accomplished.

I trugged up the stairs to my apartment, which was completely dark. I lived above an old woman named Ms. Bass, she sold the upstairs of her house when her children moved out. I guess she was lonely. Kicking off my heels, I went into the bathroom and turned on the water for a shower. I went into my bedroom, which was across the hall and changed out of my dress and pulled on my bathrobe. The rain had slowed a bit, but it was really windy out now. The windows in my room shook. I'm sure they'll be waking me up during the night.

Stepping into the shower, I shivered as the hot water hit my cold body. I looked through the transparant shower curtain and bit my lip. Why did I leave the bathroom door open? I reached out and tried to close it with my hand. /Stubborn lock.../ It wouldn't close, so I just left it alone. After awhile, I heard what sounded like the stairs groaning. /That had to be my imagination./ I tried to convince myself, but of course, I was still scared out of my mind. As I turned off the water, the knobs squeaked. I hissed, and opened the curtain silently. If anyone was in my house, I didn't want them knowing I was on to them. My gun was in my room, and I couldn't risk going in there without knowing where they were.

I pulled on my robe, and wrapped a towel around my head. I put my ear against the door and listened. There were light foot steps. I closed my eyes. /You're prepared for this. You can take on anybody if you use your head./ I told myself. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon. I settled on a can of Lysol. I could blind them at least. Swallowing deeply, I opened the door a little bit and peeked out. I looked down towards the living room first, and saw nothing. The light in the kitchen was on now. Biting my lip, I stepped out into the hallway, shivering when the cool air hit my still wet skin. I heard someone in there, rummaging around. /I can still get my gun.../ I would have, but there was a spot in my room where the window used to leak so the floor boards got weak, and everytime I walked over them, they squeaked loudly.

I was almost at the kitchen, so I was moving slowly. Pressing my back against the wall, I took a breath, and stepped into the room. I gasped, and dropped the can of Lysol. "Ms. Bass, what are you doing?" I asked, slightly annoyed. /This old woman scared the crap out of me. Why does she have to wander into my apartment?/

"Oh, there you are, dearie." She turned and smiled at me. "I was just baking some cookies and I brought you some." She answered.

"It's late...couldn't it have waited until the morning?" I asked, picking the can up from the floor and putting it on the small, round kitchen table.

"They're best right out of the oven. I was looking for some tupperware to keep them in so they stay soft."

"Don't worry about that, you should get to bed." I said, leading her to the door on the right wall. There was a staircase there, behind the door that led down to her kitchen. I didn't keep it locked in case there was an emergency, but she never came over and scared me like this.

"You have some of those cookies now with some milk, alright? And tell me how you liked them in the morning." Ms. Bass said, as she started making her way down the stairs.

"I will, Ms. Bass. Goodnight." I closed the door, and sighed. What kind of old woman is up at eleven at night baking cookies?

--*--

Some time after the funeral, I started my job hunt. S.T.A.R.S. no longer existed...Raccoon City didn't even exist any more. I had the classifieds layed out on the kitchen table, and a mug of cocoa next to them. A red Sharpie was in my hand. I had a dilemma. I didn't know what I wanted to do. Being a cop...I had all the training and requirements, but I didn't want to get mixed up in being a cop again. /The best way to look at this is to find what I'm good at...there aren't many listenings for sharp shooters. Maybe I could do private security or something./ This whole job searching bit was starting to get to me, so I capped the marker and gulped the rest of the cocoa. Reaching for the phone, I dialed Chris's number.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring...beep. It was his answering machine.

"Hi, this is Chris. I'm unavailable at the moment, probably because I'm saving the world or something. Leave me a message and I'll try to get back to you." Beeeep.

"That's really lame, Chris. I was just calling to see how you were doing, and if you found a job yet. The only thing I've found is stuff for private security and I didn't know if I'd want to be a cop again. I guess I just wanted some advice. Give me a call when you get this. Bye." I hung up, disappointed. He's usually at home during the day. I picked up the phone, and dialed in Rebecca's number. She answered after two rings. "Hi, Jill! What's up?" She greeted cheerfully.

"Hi, nothing much. Ah, what are you up to?" I questioned.

"Mm, at the moment, nothing. I'm trying to convince Carlos to come with me to a karaoke bar, though." She giggled. That girl's in love.

"Oh, yeah? If he agree's, let me go with you guys so I can laugh."

"Even if he did agree to go, he'd have to be pretty drunk to actually sing."

"That's what beer is for. Anyway, you want to get some lunch or something? I'm kind of bored, and feel like I need to talk."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Is everything okay?"

"Mm-hm. I'm fine. How about we meet at...that new Japanese place that opened by the water?" I suggested.

"Sure. What time?" She asked.

"One?'

"Okay! I'll see you there at one."

"Great, see you."

I hung up the phone and glanced at my watch. It was only 12:30. I had a half hour to kill. Pulling on my jacket, I grabbed my bag and headed outside. The October air was chilling. I started walking down the street towards the train station. I could get to the restaurant, I think it was called Hana-bi, in about ten minutes, meaning I had twenty extra.The neighborhood was deserted. The local kids were still at school, so there was no one on the streets. It kind of felt like Raccoon City. But it wasn't, and I had to stop thinking about that God-forsaken place if I was ever going to move on with my life.

Stopping at a small store, I bought a newspaper and a bottle of water, before continuing towards the train station. I half-read the newspaper on the way. There was a article about a series of attacks nearby. I folded the top of the page so I could read the article on the train. Closing the paper, I stared straight ahead of me. A man was walking, covered in black clothing. /He looks a bit out of place./ I thought to myself. He stood out against the green grass and falling leaves. I tried to get a look at his face, but he was staring at the ground. As he passed, he turned his body so he didn't touch me at all. "Excuse me." He whispered, shoving his hands deeper in his coat pockets.

I watched him walk down the side walk for a few seconds before hurrying to catch the train.

Sitting on the plastic chair, I opened the newspaper to the article about those neighborhood attacks. "Earlier this week, there was a string of break in's and attacks in the peaceful neighborhood of West Creek. There were three break in's over the course of four days. In two out of the three attacks, the home owners were at home. The attacker used some sort of chemical to put them to sleep, and binded their hands with leather belts before stealing jewelery, money, and in some cases, electronics. John Watson, one of the victims, had this to say: "It happened so fast. I didn't even notice he was in the house until I saw him home at me. I tried to fight back, but he grabbed my arms and twisted them behind my back, and covered my mouth with a cloth and some kind of chemical. I couldn't even warn my wife before I was knocked out." There were no seriously violent attacks, however. Residents of West Creek are advised to keep their doors and windows locked tight, and remove any hidden keys for the time being. "We had a key hidden under one of those fake garden rocks. I guess that's how he got in." A woman, who wanted to remain anonymous said, commenting on the break in in her home."

Closing the paper, I looked out the window. I didn't know if Ms. Bass had a spare key, but I was going to check as soon as I got home. I got off the train after a few minutes, and walked towards the pharmacy. I had run out of aspirin and band-aids. The store had a unique smell to it. Kind of like new carpet. I grabbed a red basket and walked up and down the aisles. I tossed a new hair brush into the basket and turned to look at the hair dye's. Maybe I should change my hair color...nah. I looked at my watch. Quarter to one, better pick up the pace. Grabbing the bandaids, and aspirin, I made my way to the registers. Impulsively, I grabbed a small bag of candy corn and tossed it into the basket.

"That'll be $10.53." The clerk said, after ringing everything up. I gave her eleven dollars, and tossed the change into my bag, before heading to the restaurant. I couldn't help but wonder if that guy I saw had something to do with the string of break in's. I could be completely irrational, thinking into this way too much, but...

I got to the restaurant around one o'clock and sat at a table for two. Putting my bag on the floor, I folded my hands and waited for Rebecca. A car pulled up, and she climbed out of the passenger seat, waved to the driver, and ran into the restaurant. "Hey, sorry I'm late." She said with a sigh, sitting across from me.

"Don't worry about it." I said, waving my hand. A waitress in a kimono brought us two menu's and took our drink orders. "So who gave you the lift?"

"Oh...Carlos." She said, blushing slightly.

"Oh, really? You two seem to be hitting it off." I said with a smirk.

"Yeah. He's really sweet. He actually offered to take me to lunch, too, but I turned him down."

"Aw, you didn't have to for me. I just was bored of sitting by myself at home."

"It's ok, I wanted to. So what did you want to talk about?" She asked, looking at her menu.

"Have you found a new job yet?" I questioned. I had already decided to get their chicken teriyaki dish.

"No. I haven't really been looking. I should, though. Why?"

"Well, I'm having a bit of trouble deciding what I want to do. Like, should I be a cop again, or try something new?"

"I don't know, what do you like doing?"

I shrugged, as the waitress returned. Rebecca ordered some kind of salmon dish, and I ordered my chicken. The waitress took our menus, bowed, and hurried to the kitchen.

"I don't know. All I'm good at is cop work..." I sighed. "Maybe I should call the precinct and see if they have openings."

"I can't really give you advice on what you'd enjoy doing. I mean...we were all cops, and it sort of makes sense for us to go back that, you know? But, at the same time, none of us want to do it ever again because of what we went through because we were cops."

"Yeah. What's Chris doing, do you know?" She smiled.

"I think he's being interviewed at the police station today."

"Ahh. I called him, and he wasn't home. I didn't know if he had gotten a job yet or not."

"We'll see."

We ate lunch together, chatting as casual friends would. She went on about how great Carlos was. To be honest, I had no idea that he was her type. She seemed like the innocent type who'd like a guy who wore sweaters and collected trains or something. Carlos was...kind of like a renegade. He left Umbrella, and was just you're typical bad boy.

"--but it's not like I didn't have an interest in Billy."

I had stopped listening. "What was that?" I questioned.

"Billy Coen. He had this...thing about him, you know? Like, he was kind of a jerk and would be the type I couldn't see myself with but...he kind of was appealing too." She was a teenager in love, that's all.

"Where's he now?" I asked. I never did know the full story about that guy.

"Oh, I don't know. We went our seperate ways...I don't know if I'll ever even see him again." She sounded sad.

"If he wants to..he'll find you."

The waitress brought us our check, and some kind of candy on a white sushi plate. I finished up my food and glanced at the check. "Ee...almost forty bucks. Let's just each toss in a twenty, and leave the change for a tip." I said, opening my purse.

"Sure, that's good. But, the food was worth it. Never had a better taking piece of fish." Rebecca commented, patting her stomach.

"Sure was. So, is Carlos coming to pick you up?" I asked, hoping to catch a ride home. I had forgotten about those break-ins, and I kept imagining Ms. Bass being tied up helplessly.

"Yeah, he told me to call him before I was done. I guess I should now." She said with a sheepish grin.

I took one of the gummi candy's and opened the wrapper. I figured it would be apple flavored, since there was a cute little apple drawn on it. Apple, it was.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." I whispered, to give her some privacy.

"Wait, do you need a ride home?" Rebecca asked, covering the mouthpiece of her cell phone.

"If it's not too much trouble, that'd be great." I answered with a smile. If I was going to put up with their lovey-dovey behavior, I might as well get something from it.

--*--

I knocked on the door to Ms. Bass's apartment. "Ms. Bass? Are you in there?" I called loudly. I tried to look through the windows, but they were covered with curtains. /Dammit./ Hopefully, she kept the door to the kitchen stairway open, so I could go down there and make sure she was just out. I fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one when I heard a chilling voice behind me.

"Excuse me...I'm trying to find the train station."

I turned slowly. It was the man from before. What's with this guy?! "Ah...right. You keep taking this street here, to the left, all the way up, past the store, and take a right at the light. You should be able to find it really easily." I said shakily.

"Thank you. Have a nice day." He turned, and jogged down the steps, and out of the small yard. I watched him, until he was out of sight before I practically kicked my door down, once it was open. Double-locking the door, I ran upstairs, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. "Ms. Bass, it's Jill. I'm coming in." I said, pushing the door open.

The little apartment seemed empty. It was quiet, and nothing seemed to be out of place. I sighed in relief, and checked all the rooms for the little old woman. There were cookies in a clear tupperware container on the counter in the kitchen, and a long haired cat lounging in the living room. Satisfied that she was okay, I went back up to my apartment.

/I'm over reacting to this. That guy might have just been visiting a friend or something, and needed to get home. But if he was visiting someone, wouldn't they have told him where the train was? But I saw his face, so I could recognize him again. Just need to be careful./

Going to my bedroom with the phone, I layed down and dialed Chris's number. After awhile, he anwered. "Yello?" He sounded cheerful. Maybe he got the job.

"Hey, stranger. How's it going?" I greeted, standing up to get the mail.

"Not bad. I went for a interview today, and I think I nailed it."

"Really? What job?"

"Cop extraordinare. I know, you don't have to tell me. I was iffy about going back to the job too."

"You can read my mind. I actually called before to talk to you about jobs."

Pulling open the door, I opened the mailbox and pulled out a handful of white envelopes. "Oh yeah? You looking for something?" Chris asked, as I made my way back upstairs.

"Yeah. I was thinking about doing something security related, but I don't know." I replied, getting to my room again.

"Jill just do what you have to do. If being a cop will support you until you find something else you really want to do, then I say do it. Hey, we might even be partners!"

"You sound pretty optimistic about that interview."

"Yeah, I think I made a good impression. I left the stuff about zombies and stuff out, but they had me go out to a shooting range, and I must say, I impressed the hell out of them."

"What excuse did you give for your expertise?"

"That my dad was a gun collector and we'd go in the back yard and shoot soda cans every night."

"Nice cover. Are they looking for officers?"

"They mentioned they were sort of short handed, but never said they were actively seeking new recruits." He said.

"Eh. How'd you get your interview?" I questioned.

"Barry set it up, actually. His wife was friends with the wife of a friend of the captain or something."

"Oh. I'm just wondering if I should even try to get an interview."

"Why not? You don't want to spend all your savings on food, and your bills right? I'll call Barry, and see if he can call in another favor for you, okay?"

"I don't want to put Barry out or anything--"

"Jill, don't worry. He owes you, remember? He owes you big time." He was right.

"Alright. You can call Barry."

"Good! I'll call you back in a little bit, kay?"

"Sure. Talk to you later."

--*--

The next few hours flew by like minutes. Things always seemed to move fast when something bad happened. Chris called me back a few minutes later to tell me that Barry was in the hospital. He picked me up, and we drove to the hospital as fast as we could without breaking the law. He didn't know what happened, just that Linda had answered, sobbing uncontrollably about how Barry had chest pains.

"Do they think it was a heart attack?" I asked, as we sat in the waiting room.

"Probably." Chris replied, nervously tapping his fingers.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know. We'll see, I guess."

I started biting my nails, nervously. I hadn't seen Linda, or the kids, or even a doctor to explain what was going on. /We just had a funeral, I'm not looking forward to another one./ The idea of Barry dying...it seemed foreign almost. I mean, the jack ass set me up, and could have gotten me killed, but I've never wished death upon him. Maybe because he was a family man, and it wouldn't be right to take a father away from his kids. Chris had told me on several occassions that not having his parents growing up really affected him. Sure, he turned out great, but I'm sure he keeps his pain hidden.

I began tracing the stitching in my jeans out of boredom. Chris wrapped an arm around my shoulders, which was kind of suprising. "I just hope he's okay." He sighed.

"Don't worry, Chris. He's a fighter, right?" I replied.

"Yeah.." He stood up, and looked down the hallway. "Hey, there's Linda. She's talking to the doctor." I stood up to follow him down the hall.

"Linda, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" Chris said, comforting the older woman.

"Yeah, I'm doing alright. So, what is it doc? His heart?" Linda questioned.

"Do..do you mind if these people are here?" The doctor asked, gesturing to Chris and I.

"No, I don't. Please, what's wrong with my husband?" Lina persisted.

"Well, he had a severe heart attack." The doctor began.

"Oh God." Linda gasped, covering her mouth.

"We did all that we could, but the truth is...he may never wake up again. You might have to consider whether or not you want heroic measures taken if he starts to...if his heart stops."

/Barry's going to die...? This is so unreal. It didn't sink in. The doctor wants Linda to sign a DNR (do not recessitate).../ "What about a transplant or something? Isn't there anything you can do??" Linda begged.

"There's a long list on the transplant list. There's a slight chance that your husband will wake up, but we can't be sure if he'll be the same person. During heart attacks, there's a loss of blood flow, which means there can be some brain damage. We'll be performing a cat scan soon, and we'll see if there's even any brain activity now. This is why I want you to consider signing a do not recessitate order. It will limit his suffering." The doctor said, as if he was reading from a text book. I wonder how many times he's had to give such bad news to people.

"...Chris, what should I do?" Linda cried. Chris held her in a tight embrace, and looked at me with a frown.

"I can't make that decision for you Linda. He's you're husband, before he's my captain and friend. Do what you think is right." Chris replied.

"What do you think Barry would choose for you?" I asked, maybe that would help.

"Oh, we've never talked about things like this. I didn't think we had to. He's only 38 years old.." Linda cried against Chris. The poor woman. Losing her husband after such a short time.

"I won't rush you in your decision, but if his health takes a turn for the worse, we'll need you to decide." The doctor said, before walking down the hall.

"Oh, God. I don't know if I can do this, Chris. I feel so overwhelmed." Linda said, breathing heavily.

"I'll get you something to drink." I offered, running down the hall to buy a bottle of water. /There's still a chance that he'll wake up. He can survive this. He has to./