No Balm For Grief 6

By: Hotaru

Notes: Wow, chapter 6 already. It's insane. This is coming along well. Hopefully, all are enjoying! And secretely crying ^.^

To the reviewers:

Ota: Cliffhangers are the key to any Japanese drama. I think Barry will star too ^_~

ScoobySnax: What's up with Lacy? She's sad I guess.

Panny: Why?...just why? Shut up with your freaking nurse-ness! MASSIVE HEART ATTACK okay?!

Tek: We'll see....we'll see

Sarah: Finally, a review so I can update. He haw! Thank you kindly!

So Linda had made her decision. None of us argued with her, or tried to get her to change her mind. I was secretely telling myself that she should sign it. I just could tell somehow that Barry wasn't going to make it. After awhile of listening to Linda sob, I excused myself and went to call Chris.

"Wow. That took a lot of strength on her part." He said, after I told him of Linda's decision.

"Yeah. She had me call some people to give her strength or something."

"So, what does this mean? That if Barry's heart stops beating or something, they'll just let him go?"

"Mm-hmm. There's still the chance that he'll stay hooked up to a respirator without going into cardiac arrest or anything, so in a sense he might still be suffering."

"Is he in a coma?"

I wasn't sure about that. "I don't know." I answered finally.

"Well I heard that once you slip into a coma, you can't feel pain anymore." Chris replied. That reassured me a little.

"Oh. So anyway, how are things on your end?"

"Fine. I was just brought up to speed on the case. Everyone thinks that there's some sort of pattern, but they can't figure it out."

"Like some kind of serial killer case?"

"Yeah."

I shivered, and looked down the hallway. "That scares me. What time will you be home?"

"I don't know. Sometime this evening. Why?" He asked. Why else? I was afraid.

"I just didn't feel like being alone. I guess I'll hang out with Rebecca for awhile before heading back to your place."

"Alright. Talk to you later then."

"Yeah. Bye."

I hung up the phone and sighed. As I went back towards Barry's room everyone started filing out. "Linda wants to be alone." Becca informed me. I nodded.

"You want to hang out with me then, keep me company?" I asked, pulling my coat on.

"Sure. Let me give Carlos a call and let him know." She said, walking down towards the pay phones. She dialed his number, and got a perplexed expression on her face. "There's no answer. He said he'd be home all day.."

"Well, let's go see if he's home." I suggested. She nodded, and followed me out of the hospital to the parking lot. "Is this his car?" I asked, as she stopped by a black sedan.

"Yeah, he let me borrow it."

I kind of felt guilty, keeping her away from her new love interest, but what else was I supposed to do? She drove to Carlos's apartment, which was pretty close to my neighborhood. "So what kind of work is he doing?" I asked, as we got out of the car.

"I think he was installing a ceiling fan or something." Rebecca replied, pressing the call button near the front door.

"You don't have a key?"

"I do, I just want to see if he'd answer...this is strange." Pulling our her keys, she found the one for the front door, and barged into the lobby. "I can't imagine what he's doing."

I wanted to reassure her somehow, but I didn't know what was going through her head. Maybe...she thought Carlos was having a torrid love affair behind her back. I wouldn't put it past the ol' pervert, but something about this wasn't right. Someone did answer the phone before...Oh God, what if he was robbed!? The elevator was out of order, so we ran up a few flights of stairs. We were both in a state of panic as she tried to find the key to his door. There weren't any noises coming from inside...Finally, the door was open, and we charged in.

"Carlos! Carlos, where are you!?" Rebecca shouted, running through the small hallway into the livingroom. I closed the door behind me, and glanced in the kitchen. "Jill! Come quick!" I bolted in the direction I heard her scream.

"Oh my God.." Blood. Everywhere. Pools of it stained the carpet, near Carlos's lifeless body.

"Call an ambulence!" She shouted, tears streaming down her face. Frantically, she ran for towels to press against his wounds...if she could even find where the wounds were.

I pulled out my cellphone and dialed 911. "What happened?!" I asked her, as if she knew.

"I don't know. Carlos, Carlos wake up!" She shook him, and felt for a pulse. "His heart is still beating. Carlos--wake up!"

I hardly noticed that there was someone on the other line. I screamed something about someone being attaked. Becca gave them the address, and we had to wait what seemed like an eternity. Carlos woke up a little before the ambulence got there. "I'm not going to make it, Bec. I know the pattern.." He gasped, reaching for her hands.

"Don't talk like that. What's the pattern?" She asked.

"You...have my ring...that's all you need.." Then, he died. Just like that, like in the movies. His eyes slowly closed, his jaw relaxed. He would look almost peaceful if it wasn't for the blood splattered about, and Rebecca crying hysterically over him. Why...?

--*--

That night, Chris and I sat in his apartment, on the couch. I cried in his arms. "Why is this happening?! Why are all our friends dying?"

"I don't know, Jill...he knew the pattern, so we'll figure it out soon." He said, stroking my back.

"He just mentioned the ring..what does that have to do with anything?"

"We'll figure it out."

"How soon? What if some sick bastard is targeting the survivors or something? Like...an assassin from Umbrella?"

"...I don't know. If that's the case, then...ah, it just doesn't make sense. Barry wasn't beaten or anything. You weren't really hurt.."

I thought about it for a bit. There was something. Something that was obvious, but so obvious that we were completely dumbfounded. "We'll find him. Not to sound cruel, but you've already been attacked so you shouldn't worry much." He tried to comfort me.

"What about you? And Becky, and your sister! The attacks seem to be getting more and more violent, and it doesn't seem like they're random anymore. Like he was just moving into West Creek to get to us." Man, I wish I was a detective.

"That could be it. Look, I'm gonna go call everyone to warn them. I know Becky's at the station, so she'll be alright. But I'll let the others know." He climbed out from under me and went into the kitchen. It was still early in the night, but I just wanted to sleep and wake up from this nightmare.

Desperately, I tried to think. Find something connecting us all. Barry was the oldest survivor, followed by Chris, I think. So it isn't by age. Maybe he was mimicking serial killers or something. "Chris, do you mind if I go online to look for something?" I called into the kitchen.

"Sure, go ahead. What are you looking for?" He called back.

"A pattern." He'd probably tell me not to, and to just try to relax. I couldn't relax. Two of my friends were dead. Well, one was as good as dead, at least. I turned on his computer, which sat in the corner with papers scattered across the desk the moniter rested on. While waiting for it to boot up, I thought more about everything that was going on. Without a gun, I didn't feel safe. With Chris near me, I felt fine. Almost normal. But what happens when he goes to work? Maybe I could go with him and try to help on the case?

Once everything was loaded, I did a search for serial killer patterns. Chris returned from the kitchen and sat on the couch, looking at the screen. "Hey, look at this. 'The Organized serial killer is usually gainfully employed and socially competent. They have transportation and are often married with children and are well thought of in their community.' We might even know who he is..." I said slowly.

"Look at that...they said he'd have knowledge of forensics, so he'd clean up the crime scene well. There wasn't any evidence at either place. So we can lean towards this guy being an organized serial killer. Shit, that doesn't help. If they've interviewed people that seemed like outstanding citizens, they probably didn't suspect them one bit." He replied.

"Look here at what it says about Mission Orientated: This serial killer believes that their acts are justified. They have convinced themselves that they have a mission to rid society of a certain type of element, prostitutes, homosexuals, children, et cetera' Could they be trying to eliminate us? Umbrella sends out a serial killer to finish the job..I don't know about you but this is giving me the creeps." I shuddered.

"You probably shouldn't read any more now. I'll bring this up tomorrow at work, see if they think it's worth looking into." Chris said, turning the t.v. on.

"Um...do you think that I could maybe go with you tomorrow? I don't want to be alone, and maybe I could help you.." I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn't want me there.

"It really kind of goes against protocol. I mean, I wouldn't mind you being there but I don't know how well it'll go over with my boss, you know?"

I nodded. "I wish that I could think of something better to tell you. Some more information I mean. I really want to get this guy and I don't want to be home alone."

"I'll ask my boss if you can stick around the station. Don't count on anything, though alright?" He smiled, it comforted me.

"Alright."

"Hey, how about we order a pizza, and watch a movie or something?"

"Sure."

"What kind of toppings you like?"

"Mm...how about some pepperoni?"

He ordered a pizza, and we watched Austin Powers, which certainly lifted both of our moods. After putting the remaining pizza in the refrigerator, Chris went to get some rest. I watched T.V., old episodes of Family Ties and things like that until I felt sleepy. I tried desperately not to think about what was going on so I could actually fall asleep. I wanted to help tomorrow, as much as I could. If they see how good I am, then maybe they'd be eager to hire me. Until then, sweet dreams..

--*--

When we arrived at the police station, there were manila folders scattered over all of the detective desks. "Which one's yours?" I asked, trying to find the neatest one. Chris held open the little gate-door for me, and walked to the back of the office. "Here we are. New detectives always get the back desk, or so I'm told." Chris informed me, pulling a chair from the coffee room so I could sit down.

"Thanks." I said, shrugging my jacket off. "So what have you got? Information wise?"

"Let's see...well, I'm looking over the reports from the first incidents, before the attacks started happening. The people had no connections as far as that's concerned."

"What are their names?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, but started flipping through some papers. "Ed Wong, Catherine Branaugh, you want me to keep going?" I shook my head.

"Maybe you should run those names by the others to see if they recognize them. It really seems like this guy is coming after survivors." There was something about these names.

"Well I don't know what to tell you. As far as the current attacks are concerned, it's like our names were tossed into a hat, and picked at random."

"Yeah, well--"

At that point, his phone rang. I let him answer it, and wandered into the coffee room to get something to drink. Leaning against the window sill, I looked out into the dreary world. I didn't even notice Chris come in and stand behind me. "That was ah...that was Linda..." He said gruffly. Oh God...

"What..what is it?" I asked, turning around.

"Sometime...yesterday, Barry ah..he..."

"He's dead...?"

He collapsed to the floor, not trying to hide his tears. "Chris, I'm so sorry." I said, pulling him into me.

"Why'd I have to be so helpless? Why couldn't I do anything?" He cried, slamming his fist against the floor.

"Modern Medicine couldn't do anything. You did what you could, and that was good enough. Linda appreciates your comfort, and your company...I'm sure you'll help her get through this tough time."

"But..."

I lifted him off the floor, and wiped his eyes. "Come, now. You don't want your boss to see you like this, right?" I questioned, as he avoiding looking into my eyes.

"Yeah. Let me go to the john and clean up." He said, shrugging out of my grasp, and leaving the room. I sighed shakily and took a swig from my bottle of water. Two more of us were dead. Who knows if that number will increase in the next few days? As I looked out the window, tears in the corner's of my eyes, I tried to cry for Barry. But I just...couldn't. Someone walked into the room. I turned around, and recognized the man. He was the detective that took my statement after the attack.

"Ah, hi again, detective." I greeted. He looked up from his coffee.

"Oh, Miss Valentine. I didn't expect to see you here again." He said with a smile.

"I'm a friend of Chris Redfield's. I'm here to try to help on the case."

"Is that right? Well, I gotta get back to work. Nice seein' you again."

I nodded, and walked back to Chris's desk. I looked through his rolodex to find some numbers. I tried to remember Leon's last name, but just settled for Claire's card. Picking up the phone, I dialed the number. It rang a few times, but no one answered. With a sigh, I hung up. On her card, there was a little scribble that read Leon Kennedy. Flipping to the K's, I located his card and dialed the number. He answered on the third ring or so.

"Hi, Leon. It's Jill..we met at the party?" I said, hoping he'd remember me.

"Ah, hi. What's going on?" It seemed like he had no idea why I'd be calling him.

"Um, I'm working on a case, and...is it alright if I run some name's by you? Could you tell me if you recognize them at all?"

"Sure."

"Okay. The names are Wong and Branaugh. There's only two, so I can understand if there isn't--"

"Yeah...I know those names."

My eyes must have lit up. "You do? How? From where?"

"Wong...there was a woman I met in Raccoon City with that last name. And there was a cop also, who's last name was Branaugh I think." He answered.

"Did either of them survive?"

"...the cop turned into a zombie shortly after I met him..I don't know about the woman."

"Alright..."

"You find some sort of pattern now?" He asked. I bit my lip. What should I tell him?

"Leon, listen. You might be in danger, Claire too." I whispered.

"What?!" He exclaimed.

"I...I don't know. He might be trying to kill the survivors, I don't know. I couldn't get in contact with Chris's sister, can you try to? Tell her to be extra careful? Two people are already dead." I said as quietly as possible.

"I don't believe this...anything else you can tell me?"

"Not really. Just be on the look out." I saw Chris come out of the bathroom. "I gotta go." I hung up the phone quickly. "Feeling better?" I asked him.

"A little bit. Let's get to work, hm?"

Serial killer info from there. It'd be creepy if I knew that stuff, unless I was studying criminology or something.