18


"Mr Redfield, I'm so glad you came," a tall woman dressed in a long white lab coat walked up to him. She wore thin, small glasses; her brown-blonde hair was tied up in a tight bun. She smiled reaching out her hand to his, "I'm Doctor Watson."


Chris stood up swiftly taking hold of her hand and shook, "Can I see Claire?"


"Well firstly I need to ask a few questions about her," she directed him towards the chair, "Please sit."


He did and waited patiently for her 'interview' to be over with, "What kind of questions?" he asked.


Watson smiled again but it looked too fake and unenthusiastic, "I am aware that you didn't know about Claire's…'incident' and I'm so sorry that I told you over the phone."


'Incident'? That was being subtle, although they both knew that 'incident' wasn't the real answer. Claire had huge problems and she meant to kill herself, plain and simple. However he did appreciate her apology. It was a start.


Chris managed a small but faint smile, "Can you tell me what happened to her tonight? It's all a bit hazy."


Watson folded her legs, she cupped her clipboard close to her chest, "The police believed that she was involved in an accident. She has cuts and bruises along her right arm and leg, and a bruise across her left cheek. The police also found an abandoned motorbike about two streets away from where she was picked up. They believe that it belongs to Claire."


"Ok," he said quietly, "But I don't understand why she started screaming or attacking people."


Watson hugged her clipboard harder, "That's why we believe that the contusions on her arm suggests that she's been injecting something into her," she paused for a moment, "A blood analysis was performed, however we only found small traces of a tranquilliser. Do you know if she takes any medication apart from the drugs prescribed by her psychiatrist?"


He shook his head, "I never even knew she was seeing a psychiatrist or taking medication," he muttered.


"They are for her delusions," she said, "They keep her from having a…breakdown."


Chris glanced at her, "What would happen if she didn't take it?"


"She would have the delusions again, however they are oral medication. I still cannot explain the contusions unless she was taken something else that would require a needle."


"Drugs."


"Yes, but due to the analysis it was tranquillisers. She could have easily gained tranquillisers off the streets."


"No," he gasped, "That's not like her, she wouldn't have taken drugs!" He was getting very angry with her and her questions. He knew she was only finding out any possibilities that would shed some light about Claire's supposed 'habits'. But there was nothing to shed; Claire was completely clean, he knew this even if he wasn't there at the time. He knew deep down she wouldn't do that.


"Look can I see her now?" he said getting fed up of Watson's obstruction between him and Claire.


She sighed quietly, "Yes and thank you for your time," Chris stood up fast, "However I must warn you Claire has been sedated heavily and she's very groggy. She won't be able to speak to you because of the sedative, however she can hear you."


"Why was she given a sedative?"


"She tried to escape earlier on. She was erratic and unstable. It was necessary."


Chris laughed slightly to himself, "That's my Claire."


Watson stood up and led him to Claire's room, she opened the door and ushered him in. Before he had a chance to step inside and see Claire, Watson blocked the door and said, "The restraints are required, she attacked m-" she cut off, "She attacked a member of staff."


He wasn't pleased but he couldn't do anything about it. If he made a fuss or scene all they had to do was to call security. It wouldn't help Claire.


Watson headed out of the room and closed the door behind her. Chris turned to Claire, she lay on the bed silently, and it was as if she was dead rather than asleep. He hated to see her like that, helpless. Her hair was tangled and messy; a long white sheet covered her up to her neck. She did look peaceful, well too peaceful for his liking. There was a purple patch on her left cheek, it swelled her face and looked very painful. He moved from the door and sat down next to her.


He cupped her hand and hugged it, "I'm here Claire, and you're safe now."


He glanced down at her hand; it was pale and soft, however the back of her wrist felt different. Kind of rough. He turned it over and saw her cry for help. A light scar ran down her wrist, it was four centimetres long and looked like an angry wound. His sadness ran down his face and dripped quietly into her skin, the tears slid through the groove of the scar soaking the flesh over the vein.


He faced her and let his guilt drain away, "Oh God Claire I'm so sorry!" he sniffed, "I wasn't there! But from now on I'll be with you! Not even fucking Umbrella can separate us!"


Claire heard every word, she was sad to hear his guilt when he had nothing to feel guilty about. She desperately wanted to tell him to stop crying, but her essence was just so tired. She felt at ease and at the same time insecure. Her hand laid still within his, her body wasn't making the effort to squeeze it, to try and make him feel a little better.


It wasn't his fault.


She sighed mentally, her throat was dry and she needed to drink badly. But what she really needed was to get out of this God forsaken place. She didn't belong here, not again. Her memory was still a blur and it bothered her that she couldn't remember what happened before seeing the Tyrant.


Oh yeah the Tyrant, why now was she seeing it? If she were to imagine anything it would only be Steve.


It made no sense!


Chris wiped his cheeks and sat up properly, "Leon's in the car," he said, "He really wanted to see you, but they won't allow non relatives in to visit. He was pissed and nearly knocked out the nurse for telling him that," he laughed.


"He really likes you Claire. You're lucky to have him. He would do anything for you. Maybe tomorrow he could come."


She laughed mentally; she would love just to feel Leon in her hands. For a fool he was what she needed. It was coming to the point that she earnestly wanted to see him. She needed him; she needed something to lean on. And she needed someone to make her smile.


The door opened, "Mr Redfield?" called a woman. It was the doctor; she had come to take Chris away. Claire panicked frantically, her heart raced at an incredible speed. No! She wanted him to stay, that bitch was spoiling everything. It was her who made Claire sleep so deeply.


"It's time for Claire to get her rest."


Chris squeezed Claire's hand; he stood up and bent over her. Then kissing her on the forehead he whispered, "I'll be back tomorrow. Sweet dreams Claire."


His warm hand vanished from hers and his faint footsteps faded outside. The door closed behind him and silence re-entered the room.


Claire opened her eyes slightly, she stared at the door, "Chris," she whimpered.


But it was too late he was gone.