Kitana- OK, I do apologise for the confusion that I bring when I bring the ghost of Steve in. But not to worry, it is gone… ;o)
And you wanted it, so here is another chapter…
Enjoy…
38
As soon as the panel was activated, the liquid, which encased Steve, was drained away. The liquid slid down his body leaving small clear beads behind, streaming down his skin. He did not move nor stir, he stood there still in his deep sleep.
Claire couldn't think anymore, her heart was pounding louder and louder, blocking any noise or thought.
She was going to suffocate, she couldn't breathe. The waiting was cutting her through and through.
The capsule door opened, and instead of Steve waking up and walking out and into her arms, he fell out unconscious.
Claire quickly caught him and lowered him to the floor. His skin was smooth and soft, but cold, ice cold. She quickly took off her jacket and covered his pale body. He looked so peaceful, as if he was indeed dead. His copper-red hair shimmered within the bright light; it was flat and stuck to his forehead. His face was pure, soft and completely beautiful. She laid a hand over his chest and felt his heart underneath beat rapidly, his breathing was short breaths as his body tried to adapt to the drop in temperature. He shivered and she moved closer into his body, sharing her warmth with him.
"Couldn't you get into the security room?"
Mike halted, "No," he said, "How did-"
She turned round and smiled, "Practice, practice, practice."
He leant against the computers staring at the brunette, "Who's that?" he asked.
"Steve," she smiled as the thought of Steve alive, "He's my Steve."
"You find anything about the T-Veronica virus?"
Claire froze and thought back. T-Veronica virus? Her hand moved slowly to her grenade launcher. In all her sessions and even trapped within this hellhole had she never said anything about the T-Veronica virus.
"No," she replied, "I haven't."
He glanced at the screen and scanned the files that Claire pulled up, and then he saw it, her hand reaching for the launcher. Mike clutched his pump action, "Hold it," he said, "Don't even think about it."
Claire turned round and frowned, "Too late."
"Don't be stupid Claire! Get up!"
She quickly pulled her red top down covering the combat holster; she hoped he didn't see her do that. It was the only item that could save both Steve and herself.
"I said up!" Mike snapped, she did as she was told and stood. He smiled leaning back on the computer bench, "Well Claire. It's just you and me."
She glared at him, "Who are you?"
Mike aimed the gun at her while fumbling through his pockets for a cigarette, he placed it in between his lips and smirked, "That's a very interesting question Claire. Would you like to guess?"
She crossed her arms and brushed her fingers against the hilt, "Not particularly, no."
He straightened up frowning, "Arms by your side!" he yelled.
She quickly moved them to her side swearing mentally.
His body relaxed, the tension seeped away, "You don't have a choice Claire. You have three guesses," he fiddled for a match and stroked it against the bench. He lit the cigarette puffing the flame out and dropping the match to the floor. He inhaled the smoke and blew it out towards her, "Well? I'm waiting!"
Claire sighed, "Fine! An Umbrella agent?"
He laughed dashing some of the grey ashes to the floor, "I think you can try harder."
"A prick?"
"Don't be a wise ass Claire. It doesn't become you."
Then it hit her, "You're a H.C.F agent."
He grinned, "Bingo Claire, bingo."
"A very stupid one," she smiled.
"I admit, I did slip up Claire. But tell me whose the one with the gun?"
She frowned.
"Exactly," he smiled, "And whose stupid now?"
"So all the psychiatry was bullshit then?"
"No actually, it wasn't. I am a psychiatrist. This was just my big break. I was placed here when it was first known about the T-Veronica virus. That T-Veronica virus," he said glancing at Steve.
She stepped forward, offended by how he called Steve a 'that'. He pulled his gun up and she backed up just a little, "His name is Steve!"
"Ahh," he grinned, "This is the infamous Steve. What a web of intrigue your life is Claire."
"Tell me about it," she muttered, "Who are you really? I don't believe it's 'Mike' or is it?"
He threw the cigarette butt to the floor and stamped it out, "No it's not," he looked at her and smiled, "Agent Jason Moore, your executioner Claire."
Her eyes widen, turning her blue irises black. Her executioner? She couldn't believe it; she had to do something! Anything!
"Did I say something wrong?"
"Why wait? Kill me now then!"
"Unfortunately I can't," he almost looked sad when he said it. The sadistic bastard!
"Why?" she fumed.
"We're waiting for someone."
"Who?" her voice was filled with anxiety. He was mocking her and she hated him for it!
"I think you know him," he said, "A very close friend of your brother I think."
Her body slumped back a bit, "Wesker," she whispered.
"Yes Claire. You're so very sharp at these things."
"It's the pressure of having my life threatened so much," she said sarcastically.
"A warning my dear, Wesker has a huge problem with you Redfield's. It's like an obsession, he really despises you all."
She watched him carefully, examining her best time to attack him. He didn't know she had the knife and if she did it right she could get him without having to get shot, "How did you know about Steve?"
"We didn't. We initially thought it was Alexia being cloned, but she's already awake. We're not stupid enough to go against her. Anyway my boss will be delighted to have the T-Veronica virus without having to break a sweat."
"Uh-huh, I bet he will be."
Jason's arm was shaking, he was having to hold the pump action straight and out towards her. He was losing his grip. His arm wavered just a bit. He frowned moving the gun back and out of her direction…
…Claire lunged forward smacking the gun out of his hands; it went off but luckily missed her. She pulled it away throwing it to the far side of the room. He lunged closer to her punching her gut with his fist. Claire backed away holding her gut in pain. He came again this time grabbing her hair and yanking it back, "Ahh Claire, you shouldn't of. I wanted to shoot you instead!"
He knocked her in the ribs, she groaned as the pain erupted into her entire body. She struggled from his grip and swung her arm round and smashed him in the jaw. Blood trickled down his lips. He touched the blood grimacing at the same time and lunged at her again. They fell to the floor, Jason on top pinning her arms down to her side, "You know what? I was going to give you a fast death, but you had to be brave!"
He slapped her across the face; her body froze as the impact ran through her. She closed her eyes unable to feel or focus on anything. She glanced up at him and spate out blood in his face, she smiled and he slapped her again. Her right hand brushed against the coolest of the combat knife. She gently wrapped her palm round it and pulled it out.
Jason smirked, "You wanted to play Claire! It's not my fault you don't like the rules!"
She took a deep breath and pulled her arm free from his grasp. She pulled back the blade thrusting it out towards the crazed psychiatrist. She looked up at him and smiled, "I always hated psychiatrists."
Jason glared at his chest as the blood flowed through. He fell next to her grasping hold of her knife, disbelief washed over his face as he peered down at the embedded blade. He glanced up at her, mouth open wide, "You bitch!" he said dribbling out blood, "You stabbed me!"
Claire scrambled away from him and glared. Blood oozed from the around the knife. He pulled it out gasping as metal hit the floor. He sat up wrapping his bloodied hands around the huge wound within his chest. The blood was like a river, a never-ending flow of red.
His hands slipped from his wound and he slumped back onto the floor. Claire moved up closer and peered at him. His greyish eyes glared up at ceiling still, lifeless. She shook her head, took back her combat knife swiping the excess blood off and onto his shirt.
Claire sat back panting, her heart was erratic, she almost had problems breathing. She shoved the knife back into it holster and relaxed. She gazed at her hands feeling the warm slipperiness of the blood. She frowned swiping her palms down her trousers and laid them down on the floor holding her body up.
Something cool touched her hand; her body froze scared of what it was. She gulped and slowly turned to see what it was, "Hey beautiful," it whimpered.
Staring towards the young, naked, man her heart almost collapsed in on it's self. She held her breath, and wished that what she saw were for real. It was hard to decipher between reality and fantasy, it felt real and then it wasn't. Always thinking that the delusions would come back and forbid her to know if he was actually there. Just to see him again hurt too much, it pained her and relieved her at the same time.
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She blinked and took in a long breath, feeling a heavy weight over her chest.
"Steve?" she finally whispered.
He smiled and then rested his tired body on the floor, his hand still out stretched and laid on top of hers. The smiled faded and confusion seeped through, "Where I'm I?"
Those three simple words were like a release; she smiled and began to laugh. A good loud laugh of happiness, she wiped the tears from her eyes and moved towards him wrapping her arms round his cool flesh, "It's so good to hear your voice again."
He held onto her warm body so tightly as if she was going to disappear forever, and then he remember the events a few seconds before, but as he gazed out and around his surroundings he became more and more confused. He let go and looked into her face, "Why do you look like that?"
Claire gently touched his face tracing his lips. His body shivered and she moved back, "Your cold Steve," she said holding out her hand.
He looked at it and placed his into hers, he opened his mouth but Claire stopped him, "I'll explain it all to you," she gazed down his body and said, "But your cold and very…naked."
He blushed picking up her jacket and wrapped it around himself, "Stay here," she said, "I'll look for something."
He did as he was told and walked to the computer chair still clinging the small black jacket around his body. He gazed at his brunette, the way her body moved, the small creases in the material when she stretched up or down, and the way her hair laid by her shoulders some strands falling around her face and others lying behind her back in beautiful brown waves. He didn't realise how long her hair was, although it was up in a pony hair, it never seemed so long. Then her eyes were dull and tired navy gems, they didn't have that shine in them when she used to stare at him. Her face held so much pain and anguish, it made her look older and yet he couldn't understand why.
Claire walked to the lockers, using the butt of the launcher she smashed in the lock of the first metal locker. She could feel the weight of his stare all over her body, he was observing her, studying her form. She smiled and turned to him, his exquisite blue-green eyes shone so bright. And he had a look on his face that she knew he was thinking very hard about her, in a concern way and more of a wicked way. She didn't mind, when they get out of this place she knew exactly what they were going to do when they got back to her apartment.
He grinned because he was, in fact, thinking exactly what she was thinking.
Two great minds think a like.
The locker door opened, Claire threw the padlock to the floor and quickly scanned inside. She frowned as her eyes lay on a porno magazine; she rolled her eyes back, typical employees of Umbrella, perverted bastards. She kept on looking inside and found nothing much but a pair of trainers.
She turned to Steve, "Catch."
He held his hands out accidentally letting the jacket slide away from his body; she quickly turned back to the locker blushing.
She moved on and opened the other two lockers pulling out a standard issue Umbrella uniform, a pair of black trousers and a black T-shirt with the Umbrella symbol on the left breast. She quickly walked over to Steve and placed the bundle of clothes in front of him.
She turned to go, so that he could get dressed in private, but he laid his hand on her arm and stopped her, "Thanks Claire," he said.
She smiled passing his wet head of hair through her fingers, "My pleasure," she whispered kissing his forehead. She moved back and turned round.
"Claire can you tell me now what's happened?"
She crossed her arms and sighed, "Steve," she said, "You might not like what I'm about to say," she paused taking in a breath; she had to tell him the truth. The whole truth. "You see Steve, back in the Antarctic you…you died. Do you remember?"
Steve stopped dressing and thought back, even if he tried he would never forget that kind of experience, "I remember. But I don't understand why I'm here, don't get me wrong I'm more than happy."
Claire smiled, "And so I'm I," she turned round not bothered if he was naked or not, it was something she had to tell him face to face, "Umbrella have been up to their tricks again. I'm glad they were, when you died they took samples of your DNA, mixed with the T-Veronica virus and well…they…they cloned you."
His eyes widened as her words sank deep into his mind, he didn't know weather to believe her or not, but she would have no reason to tell him lies. He gave out a shaky laugh and sat down in the chair, "Déjà vu," he joked.
Claire smiled faintly and walked to him. She knelt down by him and looked up, "So your telling me that I'm a clone and I have the T-Veronica virus within me?"
She hated to admit it, but it was the truth. She nodded her head, "There are files Steve," she glanced at the monitor, he followed her eyes and met the screen, his hand moved out to her and she squeezed it tightly.
"It doesn't matter where you came from Steve," she whispered, "You are who you are and you ARE Steve Burnside."
His hand moved from her palm and slid round her waist, she felt solid, warm and very much real. He pulled her in closer to his body gently laying her on his lap. His eyes moved from the monitor and laid them on her, "I know I am," he said, "Thanks to you." He moved closer burying his head and face within her chest, he sighed gently releasing his warm breath over her skin. She cradled him, rocking her fragile boy within her arms. She kissed the top of his head and laid her cheek onto his hair, "I love you Steve," she whispered.
He tightened his arms round her and sighed again, "I love you too Claire. Always and forever."
And you wanted it, so here is another chapter…
Enjoy…
38
As soon as the panel was activated, the liquid, which encased Steve, was drained away. The liquid slid down his body leaving small clear beads behind, streaming down his skin. He did not move nor stir, he stood there still in his deep sleep.
Claire couldn't think anymore, her heart was pounding louder and louder, blocking any noise or thought.
She was going to suffocate, she couldn't breathe. The waiting was cutting her through and through.
The capsule door opened, and instead of Steve waking up and walking out and into her arms, he fell out unconscious.
Claire quickly caught him and lowered him to the floor. His skin was smooth and soft, but cold, ice cold. She quickly took off her jacket and covered his pale body. He looked so peaceful, as if he was indeed dead. His copper-red hair shimmered within the bright light; it was flat and stuck to his forehead. His face was pure, soft and completely beautiful. She laid a hand over his chest and felt his heart underneath beat rapidly, his breathing was short breaths as his body tried to adapt to the drop in temperature. He shivered and she moved closer into his body, sharing her warmth with him.
"Couldn't you get into the security room?"
Mike halted, "No," he said, "How did-"
She turned round and smiled, "Practice, practice, practice."
He leant against the computers staring at the brunette, "Who's that?" he asked.
"Steve," she smiled as the thought of Steve alive, "He's my Steve."
"You find anything about the T-Veronica virus?"
Claire froze and thought back. T-Veronica virus? Her hand moved slowly to her grenade launcher. In all her sessions and even trapped within this hellhole had she never said anything about the T-Veronica virus.
"No," she replied, "I haven't."
He glanced at the screen and scanned the files that Claire pulled up, and then he saw it, her hand reaching for the launcher. Mike clutched his pump action, "Hold it," he said, "Don't even think about it."
Claire turned round and frowned, "Too late."
"Don't be stupid Claire! Get up!"
She quickly pulled her red top down covering the combat holster; she hoped he didn't see her do that. It was the only item that could save both Steve and herself.
"I said up!" Mike snapped, she did as she was told and stood. He smiled leaning back on the computer bench, "Well Claire. It's just you and me."
She glared at him, "Who are you?"
Mike aimed the gun at her while fumbling through his pockets for a cigarette, he placed it in between his lips and smirked, "That's a very interesting question Claire. Would you like to guess?"
She crossed her arms and brushed her fingers against the hilt, "Not particularly, no."
He straightened up frowning, "Arms by your side!" he yelled.
She quickly moved them to her side swearing mentally.
His body relaxed, the tension seeped away, "You don't have a choice Claire. You have three guesses," he fiddled for a match and stroked it against the bench. He lit the cigarette puffing the flame out and dropping the match to the floor. He inhaled the smoke and blew it out towards her, "Well? I'm waiting!"
Claire sighed, "Fine! An Umbrella agent?"
He laughed dashing some of the grey ashes to the floor, "I think you can try harder."
"A prick?"
"Don't be a wise ass Claire. It doesn't become you."
Then it hit her, "You're a H.C.F agent."
He grinned, "Bingo Claire, bingo."
"A very stupid one," she smiled.
"I admit, I did slip up Claire. But tell me whose the one with the gun?"
She frowned.
"Exactly," he smiled, "And whose stupid now?"
"So all the psychiatry was bullshit then?"
"No actually, it wasn't. I am a psychiatrist. This was just my big break. I was placed here when it was first known about the T-Veronica virus. That T-Veronica virus," he said glancing at Steve.
She stepped forward, offended by how he called Steve a 'that'. He pulled his gun up and she backed up just a little, "His name is Steve!"
"Ahh," he grinned, "This is the infamous Steve. What a web of intrigue your life is Claire."
"Tell me about it," she muttered, "Who are you really? I don't believe it's 'Mike' or is it?"
He threw the cigarette butt to the floor and stamped it out, "No it's not," he looked at her and smiled, "Agent Jason Moore, your executioner Claire."
Her eyes widen, turning her blue irises black. Her executioner? She couldn't believe it; she had to do something! Anything!
"Did I say something wrong?"
"Why wait? Kill me now then!"
"Unfortunately I can't," he almost looked sad when he said it. The sadistic bastard!
"Why?" she fumed.
"We're waiting for someone."
"Who?" her voice was filled with anxiety. He was mocking her and she hated him for it!
"I think you know him," he said, "A very close friend of your brother I think."
Her body slumped back a bit, "Wesker," she whispered.
"Yes Claire. You're so very sharp at these things."
"It's the pressure of having my life threatened so much," she said sarcastically.
"A warning my dear, Wesker has a huge problem with you Redfield's. It's like an obsession, he really despises you all."
She watched him carefully, examining her best time to attack him. He didn't know she had the knife and if she did it right she could get him without having to get shot, "How did you know about Steve?"
"We didn't. We initially thought it was Alexia being cloned, but she's already awake. We're not stupid enough to go against her. Anyway my boss will be delighted to have the T-Veronica virus without having to break a sweat."
"Uh-huh, I bet he will be."
Jason's arm was shaking, he was having to hold the pump action straight and out towards her. He was losing his grip. His arm wavered just a bit. He frowned moving the gun back and out of her direction…
…Claire lunged forward smacking the gun out of his hands; it went off but luckily missed her. She pulled it away throwing it to the far side of the room. He lunged closer to her punching her gut with his fist. Claire backed away holding her gut in pain. He came again this time grabbing her hair and yanking it back, "Ahh Claire, you shouldn't of. I wanted to shoot you instead!"
He knocked her in the ribs, she groaned as the pain erupted into her entire body. She struggled from his grip and swung her arm round and smashed him in the jaw. Blood trickled down his lips. He touched the blood grimacing at the same time and lunged at her again. They fell to the floor, Jason on top pinning her arms down to her side, "You know what? I was going to give you a fast death, but you had to be brave!"
He slapped her across the face; her body froze as the impact ran through her. She closed her eyes unable to feel or focus on anything. She glanced up at him and spate out blood in his face, she smiled and he slapped her again. Her right hand brushed against the coolest of the combat knife. She gently wrapped her palm round it and pulled it out.
Jason smirked, "You wanted to play Claire! It's not my fault you don't like the rules!"
She took a deep breath and pulled her arm free from his grasp. She pulled back the blade thrusting it out towards the crazed psychiatrist. She looked up at him and smiled, "I always hated psychiatrists."
Jason glared at his chest as the blood flowed through. He fell next to her grasping hold of her knife, disbelief washed over his face as he peered down at the embedded blade. He glanced up at her, mouth open wide, "You bitch!" he said dribbling out blood, "You stabbed me!"
Claire scrambled away from him and glared. Blood oozed from the around the knife. He pulled it out gasping as metal hit the floor. He sat up wrapping his bloodied hands around the huge wound within his chest. The blood was like a river, a never-ending flow of red.
His hands slipped from his wound and he slumped back onto the floor. Claire moved up closer and peered at him. His greyish eyes glared up at ceiling still, lifeless. She shook her head, took back her combat knife swiping the excess blood off and onto his shirt.
Claire sat back panting, her heart was erratic, she almost had problems breathing. She shoved the knife back into it holster and relaxed. She gazed at her hands feeling the warm slipperiness of the blood. She frowned swiping her palms down her trousers and laid them down on the floor holding her body up.
Something cool touched her hand; her body froze scared of what it was. She gulped and slowly turned to see what it was, "Hey beautiful," it whimpered.
Staring towards the young, naked, man her heart almost collapsed in on it's self. She held her breath, and wished that what she saw were for real. It was hard to decipher between reality and fantasy, it felt real and then it wasn't. Always thinking that the delusions would come back and forbid her to know if he was actually there. Just to see him again hurt too much, it pained her and relieved her at the same time.
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She blinked and took in a long breath, feeling a heavy weight over her chest.
"Steve?" she finally whispered.
He smiled and then rested his tired body on the floor, his hand still out stretched and laid on top of hers. The smiled faded and confusion seeped through, "Where I'm I?"
Those three simple words were like a release; she smiled and began to laugh. A good loud laugh of happiness, she wiped the tears from her eyes and moved towards him wrapping her arms round his cool flesh, "It's so good to hear your voice again."
He held onto her warm body so tightly as if she was going to disappear forever, and then he remember the events a few seconds before, but as he gazed out and around his surroundings he became more and more confused. He let go and looked into her face, "Why do you look like that?"
Claire gently touched his face tracing his lips. His body shivered and she moved back, "Your cold Steve," she said holding out her hand.
He looked at it and placed his into hers, he opened his mouth but Claire stopped him, "I'll explain it all to you," she gazed down his body and said, "But your cold and very…naked."
He blushed picking up her jacket and wrapped it around himself, "Stay here," she said, "I'll look for something."
He did as he was told and walked to the computer chair still clinging the small black jacket around his body. He gazed at his brunette, the way her body moved, the small creases in the material when she stretched up or down, and the way her hair laid by her shoulders some strands falling around her face and others lying behind her back in beautiful brown waves. He didn't realise how long her hair was, although it was up in a pony hair, it never seemed so long. Then her eyes were dull and tired navy gems, they didn't have that shine in them when she used to stare at him. Her face held so much pain and anguish, it made her look older and yet he couldn't understand why.
Claire walked to the lockers, using the butt of the launcher she smashed in the lock of the first metal locker. She could feel the weight of his stare all over her body, he was observing her, studying her form. She smiled and turned to him, his exquisite blue-green eyes shone so bright. And he had a look on his face that she knew he was thinking very hard about her, in a concern way and more of a wicked way. She didn't mind, when they get out of this place she knew exactly what they were going to do when they got back to her apartment.
He grinned because he was, in fact, thinking exactly what she was thinking.
Two great minds think a like.
The locker door opened, Claire threw the padlock to the floor and quickly scanned inside. She frowned as her eyes lay on a porno magazine; she rolled her eyes back, typical employees of Umbrella, perverted bastards. She kept on looking inside and found nothing much but a pair of trainers.
She turned to Steve, "Catch."
He held his hands out accidentally letting the jacket slide away from his body; she quickly turned back to the locker blushing.
She moved on and opened the other two lockers pulling out a standard issue Umbrella uniform, a pair of black trousers and a black T-shirt with the Umbrella symbol on the left breast. She quickly walked over to Steve and placed the bundle of clothes in front of him.
She turned to go, so that he could get dressed in private, but he laid his hand on her arm and stopped her, "Thanks Claire," he said.
She smiled passing his wet head of hair through her fingers, "My pleasure," she whispered kissing his forehead. She moved back and turned round.
"Claire can you tell me now what's happened?"
She crossed her arms and sighed, "Steve," she said, "You might not like what I'm about to say," she paused taking in a breath; she had to tell him the truth. The whole truth. "You see Steve, back in the Antarctic you…you died. Do you remember?"
Steve stopped dressing and thought back, even if he tried he would never forget that kind of experience, "I remember. But I don't understand why I'm here, don't get me wrong I'm more than happy."
Claire smiled, "And so I'm I," she turned round not bothered if he was naked or not, it was something she had to tell him face to face, "Umbrella have been up to their tricks again. I'm glad they were, when you died they took samples of your DNA, mixed with the T-Veronica virus and well…they…they cloned you."
His eyes widened as her words sank deep into his mind, he didn't know weather to believe her or not, but she would have no reason to tell him lies. He gave out a shaky laugh and sat down in the chair, "Déjà vu," he joked.
Claire smiled faintly and walked to him. She knelt down by him and looked up, "So your telling me that I'm a clone and I have the T-Veronica virus within me?"
She hated to admit it, but it was the truth. She nodded her head, "There are files Steve," she glanced at the monitor, he followed her eyes and met the screen, his hand moved out to her and she squeezed it tightly.
"It doesn't matter where you came from Steve," she whispered, "You are who you are and you ARE Steve Burnside."
His hand moved from her palm and slid round her waist, she felt solid, warm and very much real. He pulled her in closer to his body gently laying her on his lap. His eyes moved from the monitor and laid them on her, "I know I am," he said, "Thanks to you." He moved closer burying his head and face within her chest, he sighed gently releasing his warm breath over her skin. She cradled him, rocking her fragile boy within her arms. She kissed the top of his head and laid her cheek onto his hair, "I love you Steve," she whispered.
He tightened his arms round her and sighed again, "I love you too Claire. Always and forever."