Chapter 7: Death is the Road to Awe

Sebastian had made it to Lugo three hours after he had departed from Claire. With her safely out of the way, he could focus on the last task before he needed to find a way to wrap up their time and prepare for the agency and the Spanish military to arrive. His communicator had dinged upon his arrival to Lugo. He imagined Hunnigan was watching his GPS closely; he would fix that soon.

Hunnigan had seemed bothered as he explained his decision to leave Claire behind. The slight anger in his voice wasn't forced at all as he dismissed Hunnigan's displeasure. Claire didn't belong in a civilian war. In fact, each time he looked into those blue eyes, he couldn't help but find that war was the last thing on his mind.

The tight line Sebastian walked as an agent and a mercenary wasn't too difficult. Only certain Umbrella executives had ever seen his face. All of them, except for one, were dead now; he had made sure of that.

Showing his face for the agency had connected him to a respectable profile. It also allowed him to travel to different areas of the world to manage affairs related to his personal contacts. More than that, he never worked alongside any other agent for more than a few days.

As the French Ambassador to the United States Agency, certain levels of security were built into his profile. He hadn't actually lied to Claire when he told her he had worked for the Corps des Sapeurs-Pompiers de Monaco. He had, but of course it hadn't been under such noble circumstances.

Setting up the explosive charges around the cathedral's courtyard had been the most tedious of his tasks. He had needed to route the Ganados away from the building, and stealth kill a few to be able to reach pivotal areas that would create the most resounding impact.

By the time he was finished, night had fallen over the city. From his vantage point atop the roofs of the houses on the west end of the courtyard, he could hear the faint sounds of gunshots and screams still coming from the streets. There were still quite a few citizens alive in the city. Their attempts to withstand Saddler's parasitic siege had been met with blood.

Sebastian's eyes flicked toward the cathedral as a familiar head of blonde hair appeared. Leon Kennedy was crossing the space with intent and seconds later had disappeared from view as he ran toward the shops and homes on the eastern side of the city. It only made Sebastian's job easier to have the previous agent out of the way; Saddler hadn't left his position in hours.

Documents sent to him from Wesker had found that the laboratory that Luis Sera had utilized previously was in the catacombs of the cathedral.

Bishop José Higinio Gómez González's support to Saddler came more than in the form of faith. He was also one of the largest investors in the current cult's work; a man who fell prey to conspiracy and life without death in his older age. Several samples were currently being held in what was a surprisingly equipped high-containment laboratory. Sebastian would have guessed that Umbrella had helped design it if he didn't know their previous territory so well. He'd have to investigate that later.

Sometime later, when Sebastian had finished his work, he had set himself up at a nearby vantage point. Taking a bite from one of his MREs, he noticed light bouncing off the Roman Walls of Lugo in the east. He swung his rifle around and peered through the lens. Ganados carrying torches were piling through the streets. He hummed to himself quietly. They hadn't been called back to the cathedral all day. Something was happening.

Sebastian stood and turned to jump back across the roof to the other building that held his black bag hidden between the crumbled bricks of a broken chimney. Adjusting his ALICE Patrol Vest, he took his time to secure the drop-leg holster and tighten his kneepads and elbow pads.

As he kneeled beside the bag, his British ff12 mask with the VPU on the mouthpiece glimmered as the light from the cathedral hit the Night Out S lenses. He stood as he slipped the ammo for the TMP, Magnum, and rifle inside the pouch resting below his back. With a thorough check to the grenades on his tactical belt, he pushed his bag back in between the bricks.

Opening his secondary communicator, he took note of the agency's position; they were still an hour out. Wouldn't be long before he could slip in as the fight started. Pulling the STRATCOM communicator out, he sent a message to Hunnigan that he had been met with resistance.

'Agent Smith' would be making a late and scheduled appearance. He waited as he heard the murmuring of the Ganados filling the square just out of his sight.

After a while, Sebastian moved back toward the closest building to reposition himself right across from the cathedral. When the doors to the cathedral blew open, he watched as Leon dragged a woman out before pushing her to her knees in front of an emerging Saddler. At first glance, he thought the woman was Ashley, but on a closer inspection, he found himself reaching for the rifle and snapping it up before his face.

He could feel as his hand involuntarily gripped his gun tighter. For the first time in a very long time, Sebastian began to feel the creeping edges of real fear in his chest.

Claire Redfield looked bad. In fact, she looked like shit. Sebastian knew what war looked like and beneath the blood smeared across her face, lay the expression of a woman who had been fighting all night. From down the length of his scope, Sebastian could tell she was nearing the end of that fight.

Sebastian slightly adjusted the rifle and saw what Saddler held in his hand. His jaw clenched and he noted that he only needed to wait one more hour before he could fully engage his primary mission; the mission always came first. The agency would provide the distraction, and he could set off the charges to begin the full-scale demolition of their defenses and security systems…

Claire started screaming.

The rifle clattered to the rooftop as the Grim Reaper vaulted over the side of the roof and caught the balcony beneath, swinging down to the cobbled path below.

As the last grenade blew apart the Ganados in his path, the mercenary fired off three strings of shots. A line of running Ganados fell; the roar of the mob lifted into the air. The mask tilted up and the man beneath it observed Leon Scott Kennedy heading for him.

Angry hazel eyes slid over from behind blood red lenses and watched as two robed Ganados hauled Claire up and dragged her into the cathedral with Saddler. His gaze marked each one of them.

Confident, Leon started his attack with a turning-kick toward Sebastian's chest. Ganados who had been outside of the range of his grenades began to push in with urgency.

Withholding fire, Sebastian exhaled as he side-stepped and allowed his flash grenade to tumble from his glove with a flick of his fingertips. When Leon cried out along with the chorus of Ganados, Sebastian had moved to fire two successive shots into each of Leon's legs. The agent wavered but let out a chuckle.

"You're too late to save her now." The previous agent called as he gripped his head.

Instinctively, Sebastian ducked as he heard the scuffing of a boot to his right; a hatchet missed his face by inches. Sliding one of his knives out of his forearm bracer, he sliced the Ganado's snarling face. When the Ganado stumbled, experienced hands wrapped around its neck and jerked it quick for a resounding snap. With the falling momentum, the mercenary kicked the body into Leon who had recovered his sight at the same time.

"The infamous Mr. Death himself." Leon gritted out as he shoved the dead Ganado away and unholstered his Magnum. "I'm curious to see how this turns out."

"You wouldn't be if you knew how I got that name." Sebastian's deep, muffled voice replied easily; the French accent completely gone.

Leon whipped up his gun and fired.

With precision, Sebastian shoulder-rolled toward a stone relief that sat near the center of the courtyard, but not before he tossed the miniature Seraphym throwing knife in his hand with the flick of a trained wrist.

Leon roared as the knife had found its home in his right eye. The fumbling agent fired another wild bullet as he clutched his face and yelled out again in pain as he yanked the small knife free; the vitreous fluids bursting forth.

Sebastian used Leon's shouts as a timer; counting softly in his head, he brought the TMP up and fired round after round in the oncoming waves of Ganados. He was stepping left, and right as stray hatchets and other weapons were tossed. His body contorting from crouching to side stepping at full height as he shot down multiple enemies, alternating between the firearm and hand to hand combat techniques to keep them back.

"5, 6, 7…"

Hands reached for him, and still he was counting in his head as one went down after the other. With his last flash grenade, he pulled the pin and rolled it like a bowling ball at the last eight that were still standing. Switching to his magnum, he brought the barrel up and exhaled his focus into the last targets.

Time was up and his ammo was running low.

Leon rounded the stone relief at the same time Sebastian had holstered the gun. Leon's sight was now limited, half of his face glistening with the fluids of his inner eye. Leon had holstered his Magnum; he was low on ammo as well.

Sebastian pulled out his combat knife and let his body slide into the familiar stance. Leon's chest heaved as he mimicked the action.

Leon charged and Sebastian waited.

The knife play was quick, and the footwork was a dance between two very experienced men. Leon was formidable; someone had trained him well, but only one of them could accurately utilize the complexity of a sympathetic nervous system.

Where Sebastian drove forward, letting the adrenaline burn through his system, Leon was falling back in his steps. The parasite was conceding to the fear of its own life and rung the bells of Leon's amygdala to retreat back.

A shallow cut opened on Leon's throat, and Sebastian watched as Leon's head shuddered. The ex-agent's mouth opened in a hiss; tendrils of the parasite near the back of his throat quivered through his open maw.

The cut on Leon's throat began to close and with one last shudder, Leon was charging forward. The ex-agent's Meggido knife flying toward Sebastian.

Sebastian barely dodged the knife but grunted as Leon's form knocked him back. The two men crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Sebastian's knife clattered to the ground beside them.

A swift punch was dealt to Sebastian's gut before Leon delivered a second blow that cracked the right lens of the gasmask. With Sebastian on the defensive, Leon had managed to grab the mercenary's knife from the ground.

Sebastian caught Leon's wrist before the combat knife could spear his face. Leon was leaning forward heavily on the knife, driving it closer. Grunting with effort, Sebastian moved to swing his leg up and wrapped the back of his leg around Leon's throat. Yanking him off with lower body strength, Sebastian used his body's momentum to roll up and deliver his own punch down to Leon's face; hitting the orbit that housed Leon's near empty eye socket.

The infected agent rolled away for a moment, trying to breathe through the blood pouring from his nose and mouth. Sebastian took the time to yank the Magnum away from Leon's holster and tossed it aside.

The Grim Reaper scooped up his fallen knife and as Leon began to sit up, Sebastian pressed a boot on Leon's stomach, stopping the movement all together with compression to the diaphragm. Using Leon's shirt to pull his torso forward, Sebastian slammed his fist into Leon's face again.

Blood splattered to the concrete next to them.

With a hard shove of his boot, Sebastian rolled the dazed friend of Claire Redfield onto his stomach. Before Leon could recover, Sebastian slammed his knife down into the side of Leon's heel; the act severing his Achilles tendon. Sebastian repeated the same action with Leon's other heel as Leon shouted in agony.

"Won't be going anywhere fast, will you?" Sebastian's muffled voice asked as he looked toward the cathedral. His hand twitched as he realized this was the moment he could end Leon and the nightmare surrounding the American agent; however, that wasn't Sebastian's choice.

Noticing the familiar looking Magnum he'd tossed away earlier, Sebastian bent down and scooped it up.

Leon gazed up at Sebastian with his one remaining eye before his head thumped forward and he passed out.

The mercenary would come to regret not ending it there.

The Ganados had quickly ushered Claire into the cell next to a large statue of the Rose of Lima. Claire could swear the statue smiled as it took in her broken and dirty appearance.

Why did she always end up in cells?

The Ganados were barking orders in Spanish before they scurried out. She heard the separate voices of her enemies responding down the hall.

Claire shook her head as she felt like her perception was twisting around her. When she looked up again, Saddler stood near the door, watching her with a delighted grin.

"I must go for now, Ms. Redfield. I suspect I'll be seeing you quite soon. Seems I may have picked the wrong agent after all."

Claire's mind flashed toward Sebastian, and she bared her teeth as she yelled, "Don't you touch him!"

"I think you need to take a moment and consider the situation. Some of us paid attention to the downfall of the former pharmaceutical company. Respecting money too much, they lacked something critical: Purpose. None of you are getting out of this unaffected." He lifted a hand and called to the eggs roaming her system. Claire shuddered and stumbled into the bars of her cell.

"So comfortable living a life so certain. We shall see soon enough." And he was gone with a swish of his robe down the hall.

Claire moaned in agony. She would have had more to say about it, but she currently felt like every cell in her body was on fire. She felt her shaking hands ripping at her tank top as the heat in her skin rose to a crescendo. In the small space, she was dropping to her knees and pressing her perspiring forehead to the cool bars. She did her best to keep her breathing steady and wondered when and if death would come.

The boom of the familiar Magnum echoed somewhere in the immediate vicinity, and it woke Claire from her current fevered dream. She could hear shouts down the hall and more shots followed soon after.

Claire shut her eyes as she waited for Leon to come and find her.

She was starting to shake as her body began to acknowledge the recent trauma that it had hidden with adrenaline over the last few hours.

Claire flinched as she heard the door leading into the cell block eventually open some time later. She was currently sitting with her legs curled under her, hands braced against the floor, and head hung low from the dizziness she couldn't seem to overcome.

Black boots appeared in her vision through the bars in front of her and Claire couldn't hold back the shudder of her fear.

"Claire," The rumble of a muffled voice declared above.

Claire lifted her head to look up to see the crimson eyed mask and she felt herself moan in relief. Her hand flopped through the bars to grasp his boot and her whole body bowed forward almost in prayer. The boot pulled away after a few moments, leaving her hand to flop to the ground once more.

As she quietly wept, the locking mechanism churned above, and the door whisked open. Warm hands were on her shoulders and Claire couldn't remember ever feeling so thankful for a gentle touch.

Sebastian released her momentarily to pull his helmet and mask off before he was kneeling. Claire began to cry in earnest when he was pulling her into his chest and running his hands through the matted and bloody strands of her hair that had fallen out of its hold in her fight with Leon. His deep voice whispered soft assurances in her ear as he let her clutch him tightly.

Claire moaned in relief and rested her head on his chest for a moment. She couldn't stop reaching to different parts of his arms, shoulders, and face to make sure he was real.

"Sebastian," She chanted his name a few times; the soft sounds distorting in the small cell.

Before she knew what was coming out of her mouth, she told him of the military encampment where she had been the only survivor. She spoke to the powerless and empty feeling in her chest as she chose to shoot the young boy, selecting her life over his. She began to truly sob as she explained the way in which Leon had hurt her and how he had been right about almost everything he had said about her.

Without another word, Sebastian grabbed his gear, slung his arm around her back, and picked her up beneath her knees. As he lifted her, everything in her vision began running together. He quickly moved her down a few halls and jogged down four flights of stairs, descending into what were the catacombs of the cathedral.

Kicking open a door, Sebastian was pushing in with his shoulder and flipped on a light switch with his elbow.

Claire swiveled her head around to notice the clinical setting of an empty laboratory and she clung tighter to Sebastian out of fear. He walked her over to a bright yellow station that had an emergency safety shower outfitted from above. Setting her down gently, he reached up and pulled the triangle clasp dangling near the top.

When cold water began to rain on Claire's head, she let out a yelp and shrunk back into Sebastian's legs. He shrugged off the loop of his helmet from his arm and grabbed her shoulders.

"Red, you're burning up. Sit still. This blood isn't helping either." Sebastian's deep voice informed her as he squatted next to her.

He was pulling her shirt, pants, boots, and socks off with a snap. With gentle hands, he was turning her to face him, gently washing away the blood caked up around her eyes first and then began clearing out her hair soon after.

As he ran his hands over her body, the action was soft as he would pause every so often to observe the uncovered bruises that were developing across her body. His fingers halted at the severe bruising around her neck, and Claire thought she saw a moment of anger reflect across his face before it was gone.

Red water churned down the drain as she stared up silently at his face with heavy eyes. She caught his hand as it glided along her ribs and gave it a squeeze that she hoped would communicate the appreciation that was stuck in her throat.

Sebastian squeezed her hand back as he met her eyes.

The temperature of the water felt like a balm; the itching and burning heat beneath her skin had begun to settle. Claire had closed her eyes and let her head hang as she felt her body normalize.

After she was as clean and cool as she was going to get, Sebastian pulled her face up with a hand under her chin. His hazel eyes were hard to read as he stared into hers; the lighting in the room making the amber color of his irises stand out even more.

"I'm sorry." Claire said, feeling vulnerable and interpreting his look for anger. She was sitting before him with her knees drawn up, clad only in her bra and panties, but his eyes were only on her face.

"I should have stayed away. I had the choice, but I couldn't leave you to do this alone, and I—" She grimaced and looked down. "I really thought I could help. And now I have t-the parasite in me."

With his hand still under her chin, he remained silent while lifting his thumb and rubbed the tip of his digit across her lips. She looked back up at him and he motioned her toward him with his other hand.

Claire crawled forward and climbed into his lap, her thighs draping over his hips. She winced as she realized she was drenching the front of his gear with her wet form but quickly let the passing thought go as she sought his comfort.

One arm closed around her tightly, while a hand ran through her wet free hair. She embraced him and laid her face into the crook of his neck. While inhaling his unique musk and sweat, she felt her heart start to slow. Her eyes caught the glimmer of red from over his shoulder.

The mask with one now broken red eye-piece lay on the floor.

"I've met you before." She whispered and could feel him freeze under her. "You sent the ladder down."

September 29th, 1998
Raccoon City Police Station, Boiler Room

Claire Redfield let out a shout as the beast with the eye in his shoulder swung the pipe for her again. Her hair had fallen out of its ponytail and was flared around her shoulders. She had seven bullets left, a knife, and no more patience left to give. Somewhere above, a young girl was by herself in this nightmare. Where terror had pushed up through the surface initially, rage now bloomed with the power of the sun.

Stumbling back and landing on her ass, Claire lifted her handgun and pulled the trigger repeatedly. Her last few rounds of the ammunition slamming into the great eye. As she heard the gun click empty, she rolled away from the next swing. Blood dripped from a cut under her collar bone where the tip of the pipe had caught her earlier.

Pulling out the knife, Claire rose to her feet and darted into the space next to the monster as it tried to recover its posture from the last diving swing; its hulking figure too heavy for it to be as nimble as her. She drove the knife into the eye and began to push and twist.

"I've got you now!" She snarled.

A sickening scream tore from the beast and it knocked her back with its arm. Claire flew back and hit the pipes near the large boiler. She felt sluggish as she opened her eyes to watch the monster stumble and crash to the ground just a few feet before her. The room had suddenly fallen silent except for the churn of the machinery around her.

"Jesus Christ…" She had uttered before pushing to her feet. She stumbled and steadied herself on one of the pipes.

"I've got to find the girl; I can't stop." She gritted out to herself.

Claire looked up to the tall landing above and searched for the little blonde girl from earlier.

"Little girl? Are you still there?" She called, wincing as she put a hand over the cut on her chest.

Silence.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. She was going to have to find a way to climb up there and given the height, that wasn't going to be anytime soon.

The clank of metal caused her to jump; a ladder had shot down before her from above.

Wasting no time, she quickly climbed to the landing and looked around. Movement caught her eyes, and she froze as she stared into the dark of the scaffolding. A black gas mask with haunting red lenses watched her silently. The figure seemed to study her for a few beats more before it disappeared into the shadows of the next scaffold.

"Hello? Wait!"

No one was there when she had searched the area. She had eventually turned back to look for the girl, but before she did, she looked once more over her shoulder to the shadows.

"Thank you." She had whispered softly to the now absent man in the mask.

"You were in Raccoon with me, Sebastian." Claire was leaning back from his lap to look into his face.

"I was." He finally spoke, his accent falling away, transforming into the familiar sound of a deep Americanized accent.

"Who are you?" Claire uttered as her fear began to rise.

"Do you mean, who was I?" he asked softly. "I was the Alpha Team Leader of the Umbrella Security Service. I'm not that anymore."

"Hunk." She breathed as her mind sped forward. His eyes sharpened on her.

"I read and kept your letter. The one you sent to Alfred Ashford. You...You dropped the frozen cargo off at Rockfort three months after Raccoon. I had to fight that abomination." She explained slowly.

"An Umbrella Security Service—You and your men killed William Birkin!" She said, tightening her hold on his arms. Her memory zeroing in on the dead, similarly dressed soldier with the videotape in his hands on the NEST catwalk. Her rage grew as white hot as she had been feeling earlier.

"Are you even an agent, Sebastian? Is your name even Sebastian? Have I just been used again and again tonight by men with other objectives?!" She shouted as she stood up on shaky legs.

Sebastian stood with her and his head tilted as he gazed at her intently.

Tears were filling her eyes again, but her face remained a mask of rage and betrayal. She lifted her arms to cover over her chest as she took a step back.

"What is it you're here for, Hunk?"

Sebastian took a step toward her and spoke, "You know, mercenary life isn't bad. Another day, another dollar. It's simple, almost crisp in how it rewards you with its forward manner. Doesn't matter if it's zombies, tyrants, or parasites; I get the job done and I don't stop until I do."

Claire took another step back as her fear mounted.

"I do work as an agent; I have for many years. My name is Sebastian and it's the name that people call me the least. I was born in Monaco to a poor woman who left me in a church when I was nine days old. Did you know that Umbrella executives loved orphans?" Another step closer to Claire.

"I didn't authorize the killing of William Birkin. It was an unfortunate accident, but I continued nonetheless." He was cornering her and before Claire knew it, she had bumped into the back wall.

"I had been going back for the G-virus when I heard you fighting his mutated form. You were so damn inexperienced, but so fierce in your pursuit for survival. I stopped to watch you fight him. I had no interest in intervening; that was war, and survival was your responsibility." He took the last step up to her and put his hands on the wall beside her head.

"I kicked down that ladder because you had caught my attention. You had an instinct to fight, survive, and protect like I have never seen before. Some part of me became so hungry for it. For years those desires lay dormant as I eventually forgot about you and your heart-shaped face. When I saw this mission come up, I agreed to it when they said your name and explained who you were. Despite the years, despite where I had met you, I still got the same feeling as I did back then."

Claire was staring up at him with wide eyes and she was beginning to shiver under his heating stare.

"What does that even mean, Sebastian? What do you want from me?" She said as his words played havoc with her mind.

"I am not a good man; I have done things you would absolutely hate me for, but when I heard you scream on that dais… for the first time I couldn't give a shit if a mission was completed or not. I look at you, Claire, and I want more than money, more than a record, and more than I have ever even thought of for myself."

Sebastian lifted one of his hands from the wall and gently touched her face. His hand trailed down to the familiar scar under her collarbone. The one that Birkin had given to her.

"It means," he said leaning closer to her face. "That I've wanted you from the moment I saw you embrace death and come out alive."

Claire closed her eyes for a moment and took a shaky breath. When she opened her eyes, they were yearning and uncertain. His eyes were roving her face with an expression of pure hunger.

From the moment he had shook her hand in Virginia, there had been something under the surface; The look he gave her on the plane had been so probing. Even then, she had felt that there was more to who he was. A longing that Claire became slowly aware of by the little touches he gave her when he pulled her along by her hand. The eye contact he sought when she began to crumble in the nightmare of their current reality. The soft looks he gave her each time she burned herself out trying to beat the odds.

He had looked like a man dying of thirst when she had touched him in the village; someone deprived of care and warmth.

For the last 48 hours, Claire had been imprisoned, tossed around, beaten, injected with a parasite—and the list continued in her head. The man before her had been nothing but safety, protection, secrets, and the whispers of something more.

Claire was so tired of hurting. She briefly considered the reality of formulating an attachment in such a traumatic time.

"It's what I did with Leon." She thought sadly.

However, Leon never responded to her the way Sebastian did. And in truth, she had never quite felt this way for Leon; he hadn't allowed it.

The righteous portion of her soul was weary, but the hurting and yearning portion of her wanted what this dangerous man had been offering the entire time she had been near him. Safety, warmth, and the lingering looks that made her feel like she was worth something.

Taking a deep breath and a risk, Claire stepped forward. Letting her nose bump his at the proximity, she stared up into his eyes and let the gold swallow her gaze.

"Alright, Sebastian." She murmured, her lips brushing along his as she spoke. "But do you really have a dog?"

"No."

"Unforgivable." She said as she pressed her mouth fully against his and ran her hands up his neck into his hair. In between each peppered kiss, she whispered sarcastically, "Should I be calling you Hunk now, sir?"

Sebastian let out the same husky chuckle he had previously. He returned her kiss slowly as his hands moved to slide his gloves off, letting them drop to the floor.

"On the contrary," he murmured as his fingertips ran a featherlight touch up the sides of her ribs. "I rather prefer it when you say my name."

Claire shuddered as his clothed body pushed in closer to hers. They had called this man Death; a man no one could ever seem to kill or track. A whispering shadow that even rang out through the government as someone to approach with care. The only other Umbrella agent that ever held a status over him had been the former S.T.A.R.S. captain, Albert Wesker.

Death's hands were gentle as they whispered across her skin and held her in a way that went against everything he was supposed to be. Claire knew she should have been angry—she should have been terrified; however, she pressed herself closer to one of the deadliest men in her history and asked for more.

The telltale beeping at Sebastian's hip sounded off as Claire tilted her head back with Sebastian's mouth trailing down to her neck.

Claire reached for his face as he began to pull back.

"Sebastian, please."

Sebastian let out a shuddered breath as he looked down at her. One hand had ghosted up her outer thigh before coming to rest at her hip. His thumb was playing at the waistband of her panties.

"I know, Red, but the agency will be arriving any moment. We'll need to figure out what's going on and what to do next about the little friend you now carry." He said as his other hand plucked at her right bra strap, his finger moving to trail the top portion of the cup; knuckle gently brushing the top of her breast. His finger stopped at her sternum. "Make no mistake though, when we stop to rest, and we do need to rest, you're mine."

Claire felt herself flush as she let out a breathy sound, gave a conceding nod and held his stare. He smiled slowly at her as he stepped back and proceeded to pull the communicator off his belt.

"Hey," Claire said before he could flip it open.

He paused.

"Is your last name really Smith?"

"No," He scoffed, looking a little offended.

"Thank God. A girl can only take so much trauma."

"Shut up, Redfield."