Disclaimer: As you all know, I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Capcom who belongs to some billionaire I will never meet in my entire life.
I can never express in words how happy I am that the fic had received quite a number of reviews in such little time. I wasn't quite expecting such turn-out since this is my first RE fic. Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed.
I was planning to add the next chapter after a month, but the good response inspired me to write it sooner. So, this is for all of you guys.
Chapter 2
Disappointment, anger, frustration and regret simultaneously washed over me. She was gone. She left. Again.
"How long?" I asked him.
"Two days," he answered. "I even helped her with her things."
"Where did she say she's going?" I took a step closer to my informant.
He shrugged. "I have no idea."
"What else did she say?"
"Nothing. Just said thank you and she was gone with her bike."
"Is there anything else you're not telling me?"
"N—nothing," he said casually, obviously indifferent about the sudden surge of emotions his news brought to me. "Touch luck, eh?"
I narrowed my eyes at him before leaving. I kicked the plant box near the elevator and took off the building.
I opened the door to my house, kicking everything out of the way as I made my way to the bar. I brought out a glass and poured myself the strongest drink I can find.
I listened to my messages on the phone. I prayed that she had left a message, or even perhaps, her location. Sure enough, there was one.
"Leon, it's me. I…" I heard cars honking in the background. "I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you to come back. I can't tell you where I'm off to but I want you to know that I'll be safe."
A pause.
"I'll visit you sometimes. If ever I'll be in the neighborhood, I'd definitely call you," she paused again as if thinking of what next to say. "I'm taking your jacket by the way. I love it too much to return it. Thanks for everything…Leon."
Click.
A message.
It was everything she left me.
She had designated my job again. 'Wait. I'll call you someday when everything became easy for me. Wait. Wait for me to visit, Leon. When I feel like it, I might visit you. Never mind that you feel your heart shatter every time I leave without letting you know. Never mind that you couldn't sleep at night thinking of where I am and whether I am safe. Just wait, Leon, like you always do…'
How many years have I waited to see you again? How many years more will you make me wait?
I stared out the window with a drink in hand, trying to understand the situation. I tried to make up answers to my many questions. I tried to look at everything from a different perspective. I tried to justify the pain that had started to embrace me.
I tried to be fair, but fate wasn't. I asked her to stay, but she didn't. I never asked for this pain, but it came.
I threw the glass on the floor, breaking it to a hundred irregular forms of glass. Disorder was only natural, I thought.
The man who had nothing to lose just lost everything…again.
The glass splintered where my body had hit. It gave way and I came cascading down to the harsh floor underneath. I felt too dizzy to even keep my eyes open. I felt the sharp shards of glass digging to my left palm. But no, I couldn't feel the pain where the glass broke my skin. The pain in my body was too much that I could no longer feel pain. I heard voices coming from all directions. Screams filled my ears before I passed out.
I woke up several hours later to see Claire, Jill and Carlos watching me intently.
"Buenas dias, senor," Carlos greeted.
"Wha—What happened?" I asked as I groggily surveyed the room. White walls, machines, the distinct smell of disinfected surroundings. I was in a hospital room.
"You fell off the second floor," Jill informed me.
I fell off the second floor? Did I just dream that I got shot? Falling out of the second floor in a shoot-out would not look good in my record. I felt pride give me a kick. "Did I…Didn't I get shot?" I asked, totally lost and unsure. I tried to scratch my head but found that I couldn't. I became aware that my right arm was in a cast.
"Oh, that too," Jill seemed to have forgotten.
I processed the information. That would explain the cast…and the pain in my side. I remembered that I was covering for my captain before I got shot.
"W--Where's Chris?" I asked, wondering where he was.
"In the other room."
"What happened to him?"
"Gunshot too. Where was he shot, Claire?" Jill asked.
"Left shoulder. Below the clavicle," Claire answered without any hint of worry in her voice.
Jill laughed at herself, "he always gets shot, I can't keep track anymore."
"Is he alright?" I asked worriedly.
"He'll live," Claire said casually.
"That man knows his shooting but can't seem to know how to evade bullets," Jill shared. "I already got used to sending him to the hospital. I learned not to worry too much."
"So, that explains why you were crying so hard a few hours ago and started to profess your undying love for him after he got out of the operating room," Carlos chuckled.
Jill turned crimson.
"I like you better when you had an oxygen tank connected to your body," Jill told Carlos as she gave him a sarcastic smile.
"I'll keep that in mind." He laughed softly.
"Hmm, speaking of…I have to make sure he's not ogling the nurses. Or better yet, the nurses aren't ogling him. See you later, Leon," she said before she rushed to the other room.
Carlos paced around the room, doing a reenactment of the raid. He artistically informed me of what happened while I was unconscious. Claire and I laughed so hard at Carlos that I winced in pain a couple of times because of my wound. A few minutes later, Barry walked in, acknowledged my being alive and dragged Carlos out with him.
Claire and I were left in the room.
"Now, now…where did you get that flying trick?" she asked.
I shrugged and looked at her with a boyish smile.
She sat beside me on the bed. "You could have died, you know?" there was a hint of concern in her voice.
I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I know."
She took my bandaged left hand, which already had hints of red. "You were a pretty bloody mess," she said as she started undoing the bandage.
That was when I noticed that her clothes were stained with a good amount of blood at the sides. I had a fleeting memory of hearing Claire's voice as a warm body protectively cradled me.
I winced when she pressed on a rather deep cut. My palm looked like an ugly map of cuts. "My hand's ugly now," I sighed.
"No," she said, tracing one of the longer cuts with a gentle finger. She seemed to be examining my hand intently. "This hand had saved lives. These scars are some of the most beautiful things I have ever seen."
My eyes remained focused on her and a smile formed on my lips. Claire can be brash and blunt sometimes, but when she was really serious, she can say things that can really strike me speechless.
"Well, I can't say the same for the ones on your face," she laughed softly, effectively getting rid of the serious atmosphere.
"Ahh…dammit," I muttered. I could imagine how bad it looked. My pretty boy looks had drawn quite a number of girls back in college, but with a number of bruises and a few cuts, I doubted it could draw even a second glance from a desperate woman. At least until it healed.
She laughed at my misery. "Don't worry, nobody will see it until you get out," she tried to console me. "Which reminds me…who will stay with you here, anyway?"
"I don't have an immediate family member anywhere near… but don't worry, I wouldn't mind locking myself alone here," I said trying to sound helpless and sad. "I'll talk to the bedpan."
She raised an eyebrow at me. "You know, playing cute can only work so many times." She paused for a while, seemingly at thought. "But since I promised to do charity work, maybe I can spare some time for ugly flying soldiers. Whaddya think?"
"My whole stay?"
"Afternoons only…after work and training," she bargained.
"We can play poker," I suggested.
"Or board games."
"Or watch some DVD's."
"I will cook you dinner," she said with an evil gleam in her eyes.
I swallowed hard. "I don't think--"
"Of course, I'm just kidding," she laughed. "I have no intentions of doing more harm to you than what you're already in."
"So, it's a plan then?"
She nodded. I smiled.
I frequented her place, hoping that she had left something and had to come back for it. She didn't come back. I tried to call her cellphone everyday. It still can't be reached. I asked her co-workers for possible hints on where she could have gone. I found not a single clue. I went to various places, checking for traces of her. I called various apartment complex owners, asking if anyone matching Claire's profile had rented. I was like a little kid with a lost pet who looked everywhere and cried his way home.
Two weeks had passed and still there was no word from Claire.
My co-workers had noticed the lethargy and languor that had possessed me. I was always glum, refusing to participate in their after-work activities. Most of them easily classified me under the category jerk.
I was the subject of a few weeks' gossips. Some said I became so full of myself since my successful rescue of the president's daughter and after receiving another medal. Some said my secret fiancée died. Some said I had gone deranged since my return from Europe, blaming my condition on the brainwashed creatures and the plagas. Only a few knew about Claire.
Agent Roberts was sympathetic. So was Hunnigan. She even offered to set me up with a few of her friends, it was an offer I promptly refused.
Things just cannot go back to normal after Claire. I never believed that one person can change your life permanently, it was just something you read in books. It can happen in real life, however, for it happened to me.
A month had passed. I still cannot find her. I tried to contact Chris but nobody knew where he was. I was, little by little, losing hope. Every day that passed without her seemed longer than the preceding one. I was fast becoming tired. The Higher Being had plans, though.
There had always been talk of merging teams and importing certain people for training under our division. A proposal had been approved and a few carefully and thoroughly chosen people had been recruited to form an elite team under the training and supervision of Agent Roberts.
One morning, he went to my desk and gave me a folder. "I figured you might know him," he said. "Formal training starts two weeks from now. Be sure to return him by then."
I opened the folder to see a bio data of one of his trainees. I inwardly smiled as I saw the name of the trainee in bold text: CARLOS OLIVEIRA.
I approached Carlos to ask for help. We did a lot of catching up. Carlos and I grew close while working for the Anti-Umbrella task force many years back. We were of a close age range. He continued his mercenary stints for a while after the team had disbanded and before he was offered a place in the SWAT team.
He eyed me suspiciously when I told him I was looking for the Redfields. He didn't believe that I was just randomly looking for old teammates.
"I'm looking for Claire," I finally stammered out, but not before a lot of prodding.
He nodded his head in understanding. "Four years and you're not yet over her?" he asked.
"I was, but she returned." I then told him the story. Well, most of it.
Carlos looked at me sympathetically. "How long had you been looking?"
"A month or so," I confessed.
"And you call yourself an agent of the United States?" Carlos mocked. "Look, amigo, I may not be the best there is but I've got sources."
I looked at him with hopeful eyes. He crossed his arms with an arrogant smirk on his face.
In one night, we had formulated a plan. I should give it to Carlos. He had every detail covered. The best way to look for Claire, he said, was to find Chris. Since Chris was probably cave-hopping right now, it would be an extremely stressful task to locate him. The next option would be Jill Valentine. Carlos had heard from sources, however, that Jill had quit her four-month job three and a half years ago and nothing was heard from her since. The next man to find would be Barry Burton. Barry already had a quiet life, away from all the chaos brought about by the law enforcing business. He was protecting his new and private life with his family as much as he can. He would kick our asses for tracking him down just to look for Chris and Claire. For this reason, Carlos came up with an odd but brilliant idea of seducing their nanny.
I doubted the success probability of his idea. What would a nanny know about Chris' whereabouts? I would soon be proven wrong, however.
We spent three days in Canada. Carlos would come back to our cheap two-bed motel at past midnight with an evil and satisfied grin. He refused to share the status of his mission. One morning, he just came barging in, woke me from my sleep and handed me pictures of Chris and Barry, taken pretty recently. "Call me psychic, but I think we can find him in a group of islands in Southeast Asia," he said with a smile.
Carlos dragged me to an island filled with white-sand beaches in the Philippines. Apparently, it was a bustling and busy tourist spot. He insisted we stay the night in one of the hotels there and perhaps, even attend a beach party. I was suspicious of his plans. "This looks nothing like the background in their pictures!" I told Carlos.
"Yeah, amigo, but this is just a step closer to what we're looking for," Carlos said as he checked out the scantily-clad girls.
I sighed before I dragged him to the rather secluded part of the beach. "Look, I have no idea where you're taking us, but if I don't see Claire before your two weeks are up, I'll make sure you'll have the worst time in training camp," I threatened.
"Okay, okay…" he held his hands up. "We'll take the train to the next town and we'll meet our contact there tomorrow."
I looked at him suspiciously. "A contact?"
He scratched his head. "I sort of got some help while we were in Canada."
"Tell me, where did you get the information anyway?" I narrowed my eyes.
After a few more threats, Carlos finally spit it out. He said his plan was going the right direction when Barry caught him in his home office during his search. He said Barry was furious but spared his life when he told him why we were searching for Chris. Barry said the only way to Chris' hideout was through a bandit-infested town several miles from where we were. We stayed the night and went our way early the next morning. I warned Carlos to be serious for the rest of the trip.
We were sitting quietly in the station the next morning. Most of the commuters gave us a speculative glance before they went on with their usual businesses. Far to our right, a beggar had a karaoke set-up and was singing a native song. He had a cup before him where people could drop him coins.
The weather was very humid and warm. I had to wipe the sweat off my face and neck in a rather fixed time interval. We were killing time. The next train will arrive in an hour.
I watched a young couple walk by and head to the counter to buy tickets. The girl looked about three years younger than Claire. Her black hair was tied in a pony-tail. He was holding her hand as he waited for the tickets. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
I held the tickets in my hand as I waited for Claire. She said she would be running late so I had to go ahead. The movie had already run for fifteen minutes when I heard the familiar roar of her bike. She parked in front of the cinema and took her helmet off. She walked over to where I was leaning on the wall.
"I told you not to wait for me and go watch the start of the movie," she told me, putting her hands on her hips.
"I did," I joked. "But the homosexual beside me kept hitting on me so I left."
She let out a soft chuckle. There was silence for a moment before she spoke again. "I got scratched on my way here, see…" she raised one folded leg to let me see a rather lengthy wound coursing through her leg starting from where her shorts ended and her knee started. Thankfully, it was not at all deep.
"And what is the lesson we've learned from this?" I said as I shook my head, examining the shallow scratch on her leg.
"Never make Leon wait or else bad things will happen to you?"
"Well, that's one."
"Hmm, let me see…never think of my cute Italian neighbor while riding my bike?"
"What are you talking about? You don't have any cute Italian neighbor."
"Of course, I do."
"He hardly passes off as cute," I said matter-of-factly.
"Just because you think you're cuter than him doesn't mean he's not cute," she made a scowl.
"Fine. I would trust the judgment of someone who dated the high school cafeteria guy," I teased.
"That was so many years ago!" She gripped me in the arm. "And correction, it was the cafeteria lady's son."
"But still…" I can remember stumbling upon one of her pictures with the guy back then. He was not at all handsome, but Claire told me that he was sweet.
"Yeah, whatever." She thought for a while. "Now that we're in that subject, do you think Steve was cute?" she asked.
Perfect. First, bring up your Italian neighbor and now bring up Steve.
"I don't know," I was immensely disinterested and I did a pretty good job letting her know.
"Heck…we shouldn't be talking about the dead," she dropped the subject. "Do you still want to watch the movie?"
I got a little hint of what was going to happen next. "Why?"
"We're already late, why don't we just eat out instead?" she suggested. "I hope you didn't buy tickets."
I crumpled the tickets in my hand. "Nope. I was also actually thinking the same thing."
"Fine then!" she cheered. "Okay, Leon, let's see how strong you are. Do you mind carrying a wounded soldier on your back?" She brushed off the hair covering the right part of my face and gave me an innocent smile. I knew we were too old to be doing the things teenagers do, but Claire had the gift of spreading her impulsiveness and free-spirit.
"Do I have a choice?"
I was rewarded by a laugh as she clambered on to my back and held on to my neck. It was a heavy yet joyful walk to Wendy's.
"Don't stare too long or her boyfriend's gonna kick your ass," Carlos laughed.
I looked away from the couple and sighed. That could have been me and Claire.
"What would you tell Claire when we find her?" he asked. He put his elbows on his knees and stared at his shoes.
"I'm not sure," I said honestly.
"I haven't seen her in a while. How does she look like now?"
"Beautiful."
"I was actually thinking more along the lines of she dyed her hair blue or she gained a few pounds."
"Still the same Claire."
Carlos sighed as if trying to imagine how Claire looked like now. "Heck…I miss her too," he said thoughtfully after a while.
I looked equally as thoughtful, sitting next to him in a foreign place, waiting for a local train to arrive.
"I miss the way mi chica always pushed us around to do work, her glare that could easily send paper works to completion. Her mischievous smile when she told us she screwed some things up and that Chris was looking for us with a beretta in hand," Carlos reminisced.
My lips turned up a bit.
"When we see her, make sure you won't screw it up like I did," Carlos sighed.
I was puzzled. "Huh?"
"Didn't she tell---" he closed his mouth, as if he was just in the brink of giving away a top secret.
I stared at him, demanding for the continuation of what he was about to say.
He looked away. "She didn't tell you, huh?"
"About what?"
"It was really nothing...you don't really need to—"
My gaze could kill an innocent animal in an instant and that same gaze melted Carlos' defense. He was forced to let out an explanation. "Eleven weeks after they left, I accidentally got reunited with the Redfields."
"And you didn't even tell me?" I asked, my voice treading the boundary between a subdued shout and an angry whisper. Carlos and I spent some days together after the captain and his sister left. He knew how I took those events in.
"No contact, remember?"
"Even with me?" I was immensely disappointed.
I tried to push away the feeling of anger swelling inside me. Who was I to expect everybody to be supportive of my feelings for Claire? Claire kept her whereabouts secret to me, why did I expect Carlos to inform me about it?
There was an aura of guilt emanating from him. Suspicions came to mind. "What the hell happened? Did something happen? What do you mean not screw up like you did? Is there anything else I need to know?"
Carlos looked away, "you don't need to know anything else."
I narrowed my eyes and looked away. I couldn't believe Carlos thought he could keep an information from me. I was trained to sort which information is valuable and which is utter crap. If I want to know something, I know how to squeeze it out of someone. Carlos wouldn't be an exception.
"I'm gonna check the other cars," I said after the train had started running.
"I don't think she's in this train," Carlos laughed.
I gave him an furious stare, one which he immediately understood. I walked down the aisle, making my way to the back of the train. Carlos followed me. The cargo car was a bit barer than I expected. Nonetheless, it would make do.
While waiting for the train, I already felt the awkwardness in Carlos' movements. Assumptions and thoughts raced through my mind. I could only think of one thing he would keep from me. I wished I was wrong, but there was only one surefire way to find out.
"Leon, what the hell is--" Carlos started as he closed the door.
I turned around and struck him to the ground. My fist descended on his face violently. He held on to his cheek. He tried to stand up but I pushed him to the ground. I knelt beside him and held him by the collar.
"Where?" I asked.
"Huh?"
I punched him again. "Where? Claire and Chris!"
"Europe. San Roque, small town in Spain," he coughed up.
"Why were you there?" I held his collar in a manner that could almost choke him.
He started to spit blood. "Work. Ugh. Next town. Saw Chris, he let me, ughh, stay for some time."
I felt envy and rage at his words.
"Was it good?" I asked furiously.
"What do—"
I shook him. "You and Claire! Was it good? How many nights?"
"You don't unde—"
I punched him before he could finish. "Just answer the fucking question! Was it good!" I shouted.
"Yes!" he shouted back.
I released him and foundered back to one of the cargo boxes. What did I expect him to say? Yes or no, it would have been the same. It would still hurt as hell. I collapsed to the floor. Somehow I had released the tension inside me by doing that, but it wasn't enough to ease out the pain and frustration.
Why Carlos who never even had any feelings for Claire back then? Why him who could never even stick to one woman and appreciate Claire the way I could? Why him? Why my friend? Why not just some random guy? Why not…just me?
I shook my head. "I knew it. You couldn't even keep your pants on for a day. So, Claire's on your list now too, huh?"
Carlos sat up, spitting blood out and wiping his lips with his thumb. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked at me. "It wasn't a one-night stand. Claire's different…she deserves bet--"
"The work that you were telling me?" I cut him off. My forehead was furrowed as I stared at the train floor.
He nodded. Seven weeks after the team had disbanded, Carlos offered me a job. He asked me if I wanted to join him in a mercenary stint. I refused the offer without knowing that by doing that, I refused a chance to see Claire.
I let out a pained chuckle. "That could have been me, huh?" I asked.
He nodded. "But you don't understand. Me and Claire, we—"
"It doesn't matter now."
The frustration, anger and pain that had long been waiting to be stirred finally unified. It had been pent up way too long and had finally boiled down to take a hold of me. I managed to suppress it for more than a month but I could not do anything about it now. I couldn't stop the tears from falling. I couldn't stop the pain from spreading. I could only let the tears flow down its fiery path.
I found my Claire and I lost her again.
It doesn't matter now at all.
It was already dark when we arrived. Carlos gave our contact Barry's letter and he signaled for us to climb aboard his army-type jeep. Both Carlos and I sat on the back. A Labrador was sitting on the passenger seat.
"You're looking for Chris Redfield, huh?" our contact asked in perfect English.
"Yes," Carlos said.
"It's a long and dangerous trip you've signed up to," he warned us.
"We're prepared," I said.
"Mr. Redfield isn't fond of visitors. You see, before you see him, you have to get through the boss," he said as he turned to an unpaved driveway. The jeep jiggled through the bumps in the road.
"Who's the boss?" I asked.
The man looked around cautiously before he turned to us and whispered. We leaned forward to catch what he was saying. "Nobody knows his name, but the boss is very powerful around here. He owns Redfield now. Did you bring arms?"
"Just a couple."
"Then pray he's in a good mood. He doesn't like Americans, you see," he said in a low voice. He looked around again before he made a sigh of relief and continued driving.
"I'm not American," Carlos muttered.
I glared at him. He gave me a what-did-I-do scowl.
"He hates Spanish-speaking people even worse," the man added. "We became a colony of Spain, you see, and the boss is very nationalistic. You do the math," he explained.
I smiled inwardly.
A few minutes later, we stopped at a checkpoint. A group of armed men surrounded our vehicle. The driver turned to us. "Don't bring out your weapons, let me talk us out of here," he said in a low voice. I checked for my gun but didn't bring it out. Carlos became alert too, leaning forward a bit as if to get better access of the weapon I knew he was hiding somewhere around his leg. Our contact climbed off the jeep and was escorted by one of the armed men a few paces away. They sounded like they were negotiating.
The armed men around the jeep examined us both with distrustful eyes. They talked in a language we couldn't understand, but whatever they were talking about, it didn't sound good. The dog in front started barking angrily when one of the men poked him with the tip of a rifle. They started laughing when the dog almost managed to bite the man's hand.
I took this opportunity to glance at Carlos to give him a signal. This was not a government checkpoint. These people were bandits.
The final signal we were looking for came when our contact was struck to the ground by the man he was negotiating with.
Wonderful. An ambush in the woods in a full moon. Melodramatic, I must say.
We were outnumbered but if we would be quick enough, there was a possibility we could get out of here alive. I immediately took my gun out but before I could fire, I felt a sudden painful surge of electricity travel through my body, rendering me unconscious.
"Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I found my brother in Raccoon City instead of the zombies," Claire shared one time. "Maybe, then, I could have left the city and gone back to college like a normal teenager."
She looked out the window. "Maybe then, we could have met at your welcome party. I would have seen how you would blush when one of the lady officers hit on you," she smiled bitterly. "Then, you wouldn't even take a second glance at me and we wouldn't be talking here like this."
I just stared as she made a sigh, her chest rising and falling gently as she let the air out. "But then again, you could have talked to me and we could still have become good friends…even perhaps asked me out," she said thoughtfully.
She turned to me with a smile, the orange light outside highlighting her face. She spoke in a gentle, almost too painfully sweet voice.
"What do you think?"
I opened my eyes to see darkness. It was pitch black. I tried to move but soon realized that I can't. I was hunched over and my chin was touching my knee. If I focus, I could see tiny slits of light. I tried to move again, but a hard object pushed at me with as much force, keeping me in the same position. I moved my foot and it resounded of an object hitting wood. It was very difficult to breathe. I kicked myself mentally when I realized where I was.
Fuck, I'm in a box.
I tried with all my might to break the box where I had been put. I tried kicking but I couldn't bring down any of its walls. Not without more room. I was quickly running out of oxygen.
No, I cannot die here. I did not survive Raccoon City and Los Illuminados just to die in one fucking wooden box. I struggled to free myself.
I tried pushing with my hand but I was fast becoming weak due to lack of air. I was getting dizzy. Only one thought was in my mind.
No, I cannot die here for I still have to find Claire.
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