"I wish I could believe that, Claire, I wish I could" Leon said quietly, "My professional career's over."
"That's bull" Claire replied sharply "You know as well as I do that they'll be happy to allow you to return to the job."
"That's not what I meant" Leon sighed, feeling the skeletal hand on his heart squeezing harder with every passing minute "I mean…I won't be returning to the job I want to do. What will they do with me? Put me in front of a desk no doubt."
"Leon, you're a huge asset. You're an assertive thinker, you're brave, you're sharp-"
"No, I'm not a huge asset!" He snapped, "All I ever wanted to do was serve in the police and protect the good. Now with this…" he waved disdainfully at his immobile legs "…I can't do that."
Claire exhaled quietly. It was no use trying to convince Leon about anything yet, he still wasn't past the shock and bitterness of not being able to walk, ever again.
"I'm sorry, that was unnecessary, I mean…you've been as supportive as can be, right?" he croaked, hanging his head a little in shame.
Claire squeezed him and kissed his forehead tenderly.
"Leon, we'll help you get through this. I promise that you won't be lumbered behind a desk, I can assure you of that."
Leon smiled a little, head pressed against her.
"You never have lied, have you?"
"Never even told a white one." she replied, smiling in a broad and glowing way that made Leon believe miracles could come true "Now, get a little rest"
He nodded, and she walked out of Leon's room. Outside in the pale-lit corridor, an emaciated Chris Redfield sat with a cup of coffee and a pair of eyes which were so dark Claire suspected he'd been sleeping as well as she had. She sat down beside her brother, who was running a hand through his hair.
"How is he?" Chris asked after a minute's worth of listening to the hubbub of the hospital buzzing with life.
Claire shrugged.
"Bitter, upset, angry, depressed…how you'd feel if you were paralysed from the waist down, basically."
"Shit…" Chris shook his head, and sighed deeply "…the stupid irony of all this is that it was a human who did it. A human. He's pulled through the whole Umbrella thing, been infected, recovered, bitten, recovered again…and then he gets shot by some dumb asshole with a machine gun. It's all bullshit."
Claire nodded, sadly.
"It's going to take him a while before he'll be convinced that he is of any use again."
"I think him and Jill both have that problem; they can help each other there." Chris replied, thinking of Jill and how despondent she'd been when he'd visited her last. He wanted to see her again; to go and explain to her that everything would be okay. In fact, he'd do that now.
"I'm going to see Jill, you want to come?" Chris asked, standing up.
Claire shook her head.
"Not yet…I want to stay for a bit just in case…Leon needs me."
Chris nodded, understanding. Then, he turned and walked down the corridor.
Jill was hunched over the sink, washing her hands. She straightened up, remembering that she'd forgotten the soap. Jill's useless left hand hung limp as her right hand turned the hot tap off. She turned, and walked in a dragging limp over to her wash-bag on the shelf above her bed. Jill had been told the limp would become less dragging with time, but that she'd be limping for a fair amount of her life to come.
Jill grasped the soap with her one good, working hand and went back to the sink. She stopped, realising she couldn't turn on the tap with her good hand taken up. So she put down the soap on the sink, and turned on the tap. Out of habit, she put her hand towards the soap. She tried to close her fingers around it, but the hand wouldn't listen. Jill fumbled with the soap, the slippery object sliding in her unresponsive fingers before it slid out and dropped onto the ground.
Jill leaned against the sink, and not for the first time, began to cry streams of tears that she'd only just washed off from the last time she'd been crying. Her slight hunch now was a result of the nerve damage, and now she…she looked in the mirror at her angry, upset features. Jill felt useless. She couldn't even wash her hands properly anymore. Her hand was deadweight, a piece of bone wrapped in flesh. Jill had been a master of lockpicking; now she doubted she'd be able to do the simplest of locks. No thief could pick a lock with one hand unless said hand had the muscle strength of a crusher. Her gun, too. Jill wasn't the best of aims, she knew this, but it was a matter of sheer pride that she was a decent shot and that her nimble frame had advantages when in a tactical situation.
Jill, with physical training, the doctors had said, might be able to learn to shoot with one hand and do most tasks with one hand, maybe even learn to jog, and she hadn't been made sterile or anything by the damage. That was the only real good news. It wasn't much of a consolation prize, though.
She remembered talking with Leon, whom she saw completely eye to eye with regarding their situation. He'd said something about how they'd probably retain jobs, but fairly simple and undemanding ones just so that the STARS didn't look discriminatory towards disabled cops. She had to agree; this was probably going to be the case, in fact they were told a S.T.A.R.S commissioner would be dropping off condolences and details of reassignment with regard to their 'ailments' the next morning. Jill didn't want to imagine what dreary task she'd be given; if it was secretarial work, she'd outright quit. She'd rather be a non-S.T.A.R.S member with her dignity than a S.T.A.R.S member without it.
Dignity was important, she told herself. Jill was all dignity, was Leon; as two fighters who had helped bring down the bio-weapons division of the Umbrella Corporation, they deserved more than this.
Jill heard a knock on the door.
"Come in" she said, blandly.
Chris walked in, a faint smile of encouragement but also of contrition painted across his features. Jill quickly used her wet hand to wipe her eyes, hoping her flushed cheeks had gone down.
"Hey" he said, gently.
"Hey" she replied, looking at a man who was one of the reasons she felt as glad as she did about still being capable, sexually. It wasn't that she fantasized about him or anything, but their relationship was extremely close and it would take one word from one of them to turn it into a commitment. At the moment of course, this wasn't on their minds. Chris looked at Jill, sadness and bitterness raging up in his mind as he thought of who had taken away what Jill prized the most, her athleticism and skill with locks. He was without a doubt the person who cared for Jill the most; hell, loved her would probably be a better word.
"I just wanted to see if you're okay." he said.
Jill sighed, a little exasperation making its way to the surface in her voice.
"Chris, I'm fine. I'm the same as I was yesterday."
She hobbled across the room, towards her bed. Chris wasn't an idiot though, and he saw right through her sensitive reaction.
"You were crying again, weren't you?"
"No" she replied, a little coolly.
"Jill" he stepped forward, voice concerned but with an edge to it "I'm not an idiot." Then, his voice softened, and he added, "It's only understandable. You're injured. Your hand injury may not be so bad-"
"Not so bad?!" Jill snapped, voice rising in volume to an almost alarming level "Chris, I'm fucking crippled! The nerve's been severed, it's a fucking dead weight!!"
"Calm down" Chris said, as softly as ever.
"I can only just walk, I've got one useful hand, how much worse could it get?!" she yelled.
"Jill!" Chris replied, voice still soothing but with a slight sharpness to it, "We have a man down the corridor paralysed from the waist down, he's in the same boat as you."
Jill sagged. Chris immediately regretted his sharp response. He watched her shoulders shake, and walked forward to embrace her. She put her arms around him, and buried her face into his chest, weeping for all she was worth.
"Jill, I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said that" he whispered.
"No…I'm sorry, you're right…getting angry won't help anything" she replied, quietly "Chris, tell me everything will be okay"
Chris, breathing in her hair and stroking it gently, said
"Yeah. It will. I promise it will."