Chapter 12: Made in Heaven

Hunk laid in the pipe breathing quietly as the second and third cannon shots exploded around his position. His dislocated shoulder trilled with pain he barely felt as he took a large breath. It was going to become harder to breathe in the pipe soon as the length of pipe extended too high for proper ventilation. He would be forced to lay near the opening to get fresh air.

He hadn't had time to grab his duffle before he had dived into the open storm drain runoff. Only his rifle had remained on his back through the fall. He wasn't sure what happened to the TMP.

The guns, as useful as they had been, were made moot at his discovery of the large boulder that blocked the path below. Rage like he had never known hit him and he felt a tooth crack from how hard he had clenched his jaw.

In his mind's eye, he kept seeing Claire fall from the plateau. Her rolling form was only visible due to her bright red jacket as she had fallen below. He had no idea what became of her, and at this rate he was going to suffocate before he could formulate a better way to die.

The fear he felt in his chest for her was worse than the bullet he had taken through the lung a year ago; he had heard her choke out his name before the blast.

He touched a grenade on his belt and briefly thought about rolling it out to shift the boulder with the blast. Finding it an unlikely outcome, he decided it would be his last plan if he couldn't shift the rock on his own.

An hour had passed, and he heard footsteps somewhere nearby. He shifted in the pipe, lowering himself to look through the crack between the pipe's opening and the oddly shaped portion of the rock.

A light blinded him, and he glared out into the eyes of Orski.

"Smith."

Orski moved and he heard the telltale sounds of vibrations through the rock. Understanding what Orski was doing, Hunk threw his good shoulder into the rock once more. His boots sliding against the metal as he pushed; the rock began to slide.

When the rock was pushed out far enough, Hunk slid out of the pipe and breathed deeply, the night air cool on his perspiring face.

Hunk quickly took an inventory of his injuries. A long scrape lined the left side of his face from the fall. He looked down at the two broken fingers on his left hand and his shoulder trilled again. He grunted in annoyance.

"What happened?" Orski asked, as he was walking up and grabbing Hunk's shoulder. Hunk resisted the urge to wince and looked down at Orski's hand.

"Help me set this." He said simply, ignoring the older agent's question.

Orski looked into his eyes for a moment and then nodded. He stepped up to Hunk's right side and grabbed his arm. With Hunk's palm facing the same direction as the front of his body, Orski lifted the arm to ninety degrees, and then further up as he rotated his socket.

When the shoulder reset, Hunk wasted no time as he pulled the medical tape out of his pack near his back and stepped away from Orski. He began to splint his fingers as best as he could before he double checked his supplies and began to head toward where he saw Claire last.

"Where are you going, Smith?"

"Have you seen Claire?" He responded as he paused his steps. Direct. Angry. Worried.

"No, but I just came from that way, I would have seen her. Was she near the boat?" Orski asked with a look of worry reflecting in his eyes.

Hunk breathed deeply out through his nose again. He pulled the rifle off his back and started toward the coast once more.

"Wait, Smith." Orski called, his tone exasperated as he walked over.

The usually stern agent looked conflicted then as he looked from the boat back to Hunk. He then explained the type of forces they were dealing with, the underground mines beneath their feet, the water contamination, the communication loss, and the state of the country. Orski also explained that he needed to wait for the rest of the Spanish forces.

The country was done then. This was beyond local military force, and simple tactics. He should leave now while he could. He could find another sample for Wesker while the agents were scrambling. Blue eyes flared through his thoughts, and the mercenary knew he wouldn't be doing that.

Hunk considered something for a moment. He was going to need to make a call.

"Smith!" Orski called after him as he began walking toward the boat again without a response.

Leaving Orski behind, Hunk pulled out his private communicator and dialed in a very old number. His strides were long as he continued toward the boat; waiting impatiently for the satellite to pick up his signal.

A familiar face appeared on the screen. Whether she was surprised by the call or by his bare face, she made no comment about it as she greeted him.

"Hunk." Christina Henri said with a severe look.

"Need a favor." He spoke.

She did look surprised then. "Favors are costly."

He had found a better way to die after all.

Claire stood near the steps as her face lifted back up to the Plagas thundering toward her. The drop of blood at her feet had fizzled out and left behind a scorch mark on the concrete. Another drop of blood fell, and it immediately burst into flame as it reacted to the air after a few seconds. A laughing woman in a purple dress flashed through Claire's mind.

Claire saw the Plaga near Ashley skitter toward her again. With the memory in her mind, Claire lifted her hand and flicked her wrist. The blood dropped onto the creature's back and the flames burst forth.

When the Plaga began to scream, Claire reacted quickly by lifting her boot and stomping on it as hard as she could. Leaving her foot planted, she reached down, grabbed the base of its tail and yanked hard.

The tail came free with a sickening sound and she wasted no time plunging the serrated edge into her palm, blood started to well up and she turned and flung her hand. The area in front of her went up in flames. The screams of the Plaga bounced off the walls. The greater mass of the marching Plagas toward the back scurried away from the flames. The line of fire would buy her precious few seconds.

Claire's peripheral caught sight of the movement above. She was taking a step back and looked back at Ashley as the girl made another distraught request under the frantic sounds of the creatures around them.

Ashley was staring wide-eyed up at Claire in what she could only describe as hope. Tears were dripping off Ashley's face as she looked at Claire's flaming palm. The president's daughter nodded her head once as if she knew the question Claire was asking.

Claire was shaking and she grimaced as she looked back down at her hand. With a silent prayer to the ill-fated daughter, Claire pressed down to let blood fill the cup of her palm. Claire lifted her hand and let out a soft sob as she flung it toward Ashley. The blood splattered the First Daughter from chest to face before the fire began to consume her waxy skin.

Ashley's following screams broke Claire in ways she didn't know if she'd ever recover from.

"CLAIRE!"

Claire snapped her head up as she saw Leon near the back end of the crates. She knew by the look on his face that it was him and not the Plagas in control. His chest was rising and falling rapidly; a sheer look of awe and disbelief lined his features.

She stared across at him with a soft sob escaping her lips and lifted her flaming palm for him to see. The cursed legacy of the Ashford's had somehow lived on; the T-Veronica Virus.

"Thank you." She mouthed to him through her tears. The screeches of the Plagas were circling them, but Claire could only see him and what he had done. She understood now. He had hidden her condition from the world; himself along with it.

His sudden rigid posture began to move toward her, and Claire knew she didn't have any more time. She turned and ignored the blackening features of Ashley Graham slumped over in the chair as she leaped over the bubbling mass connected to her body. She skidded toward the elevator in the back and slammed her uncut palm onto the button. She felt the gears in the floor start to whirl.

Turning back toward the open room, she sucked in a terrified breath as Leon jumped through the first string of fire she had tossed. The fire's light showed the glistening bodies of the Plagas charging behind and above him.

The elevator dinged behind her, and she turned back to the call button. Claire covered it in blood before she dove into the elevator and hit the 'close' symbol.

Leon had just made it to the door when they closed. Claire caught a grin on his face as the metal slid together and she shuddered.

As the elevator began to move, Claire glanced down at her now cooling palm. The area around the cut had turned black as the skin had bubbled up. She felt her heart pound faster as she realized that it didn't even hurt.

From what she saw in Steve and Alexia, the T-Veronica Virus rapidly destroyed cells and made the subject quickly deteriorate mentally; however, she wasn't certain on the rules anymore. If Leon had known early on, did that mean she had been infected at Rockfort with no side effects in 1998? Or was it after? Did he have something to do with that too? Was she going to turn into a monster in the next hour, or was she just not invited to the Christmas parties anymore?

Claire let out a sad laugh as she slumped back into the wall. The Plaga tail was still grasped in her hand and the serrated tip clanged against the metal wall.

Leon had protected Sherry by trading his life for servitude. When Claire had returned home with Chris after Rockfort, she remembered showing up at Leon's house; a small medical team from the bioweapons division had been waiting inside. The two men that had treated her had been rigid and leery, but she only had eyes for Leon as he asked her questions and stayed close.

Had the government's team discovered her infection then? What deal could Leon have made to keep her from becoming the next lab rat? Did he have anything left to trade but his soul at that point?

"Oh, Leon." Claire said in sorrow as she leaned her head back against the elevator. "Why didn't you tell me at least?"

Claire clenched her teeth around the truth. She was going to get those answers right after she burned this place to the ground.

The elevator doors pulled open, and Claire looked out into a room full of machines. A tall engine stood before her with three platforms. She took a second to marvel at such a thing before she analyzed what she needed to do. Mutation or not, she wasn't going to let this boat deliver itself upon the world. If she could stop this, she would die before anyone else lost their life.

She ran forward and studied the engine with a skilled eye. Although it wasn't a motorcycle, she had a good idea what parts would be terrible for the engine if it caught fire—pretty much anything.

The letters above the engine read Mitsubishi Heavy Industries and a large arrow pointed the way to the entry. Without wasting more time, she yanked the large swinging door open on the side and took off up the stairs to the first platform.

Whipping open a compartment, Claire turned and brought the Plagas tail up but stopped cold. The hand with the flames had died out completely and the cut had already started to close. She curled her fingers into her palm and scraped them across. The burnt skin began to flutter away, revealing healing new skin underneath.

"Ms. Redfield, you are quite the interesting guest." Saddler's voice called down from above her.

Claire whipped her face up and caught sight of him on a catwalk above. To the right was a set of stairs she assumed led back toward the upper portions of the boat. She was out of time.

She slammed the tail through her palm again with a wince and proceeded to run her palm across the pistons in front of her. The fire's light flickered off the metal of the engine as she turned and moved toward the next platform.

"You've killed my Queen." His voice said somewhere above as Claire ran. Drops of blood dripped from her cupped palm and was lighting a trail of fire behind her.

"You've gone and destroyed my property." He continued.

Claire panted as she threw open the next hatch and repeated the same act.

"You've disrupted my bodyguard."

"You're going to be next!" She yelled in anger as she moved toward the last platform's ladder.

Saddler let out a strange moan somewhere above and suddenly he was before her, causing her to stumble back on the platform. Her cupped palm was held out beside her, the fire warming her suddenly cold skin.

"Your virus ate my Plagas." He said with a curled lip. "I think you would be best served in our labs. I do wonder, what's stronger? Your virus or my parasites? Lab born or earth grown? Better yet, how could we move forward with both in our employ?" Saddler was laughing as he moved forward suddenly and thrusted his palm into Claire's chest.

Claire flew back and slammed into the railing of the platform, the sound echoing through the vast room. She exhaled a groan as she slid to her knees and lifted her head toward Saddler. Rage was transforming her features as she considered the damage this man had done in the last two months. To her life, and to the people of this country.

Claire flung her wrist and his robes caught fire with ease. He lunged just as the lower portion of the engine exploded, shaking the topmost platform where they stood. Saddler staggered, but just for a moment.

It was all that Claire needed as she recovered, raised the Plagas tail, and drove it into her right wrist with a scream. She flexed her hand and threw the blood into Saddler's face.

He began to scream as his face erupted in fire. His hands reached up as he stepped back.

"You've committed an act of war against the citizens of Spain." Claire said, her cadence matching his from earlier as she stepped forward.

"You've kidnapped a woman, enslaved her, bred her, and corrupted a federal agent." She flung blood at his chest, the fire's light dancing in her blue eyes. "My federal agent!"

Claire stepped closer as she looked down at her hand, the appendage now a living torch from fingertip to elbow as the blood had run; a chemical embodiment of her wrath.

"You paraded yourself as a man of faith and I think it's only fitting that you are thrown into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth!" She hissed, quoting Matthew 13:42 as she slashed her wrist toward his feet. His legs were alight, burning through his robe quickly.

Claire felt the world sway, and for a moment she thought the ship had moved. She blinked and realized that she was the only one moving. Glancing down at her arm, she noticed how pale her skin seemed. The discoloration in her veins stood out at the contrast.

She had lost too much blood.

Claire took a step back, knowing that if she didn't get out now, she wasn't ever getting off this ship.

Saddler's scream made her flinch as her sluggish eyes caught sight of his. His eyes looked out through the charred skin of his face as something behind him raised from his robe. She stumbled back and grabbed for the railing to steady herself. Her blood made her hand slip and she fell back, the railing ignited beside her.

"Fire isn't enough of a cleansing for something that's older than your gods!" Saddler venomously spat.

The scorpion-like tail raised higher behind him, and Claire felt her strength leave her.

Hunk walked aboard the cargo ship and carefully moved through the shadows of the containers. The ship lights above highlighting a seemingly clear path. He paused briefly as she heard the growls and scratching coming from each container. He looked up at all the boxes and wondered just how many of these were full. He made a mental note to start bringing more ammo; intelligence never gave the right information.

Aside from the flapping of the flag above the ship command center, nothing on deck moved. Smoke was gently rising from a stairwell in the middle of the weather deck. He moved silently towards it, wishing he had been wearing his gas mask when the blast went off. It was among the items that were currently lost to him.

The night air was cool coming from the coast, and a gentle breeze stirred the hair now tickling the sides of his face. If what Orski said had been true, he wasn't going to be able to complete this mission with force. He was going to need to use stealth—with only a sniper rifle, a grenade, and a few knives he had hidden throughout his armor.

He'd had worse odds, but he didn't like it.

Except this wasn't just a mission, he realized as he made his way slowly through the weather deck. This wasn't a capsule retrieval, geography securing, or anything else that related to his usual docket. They had something that was his. The rage he had found himself with back in the pipe hadn't just been from obstruction to his route. It was a curling descent in his chest as he visualized what they were doing to Claire. This was for her, and he wasn't leaving without her.

Refocusing himself, Hunk took the stairs quickly, sniper rifle held in his hands like an assault rifle. Peering through the next area, he squinted to see boots poking out from the adjacent hallway. Creeping forward, Hunk lifted his rifle and slowly walked out in an arc toward whomever sat against the wall.

Hunk gripped his rifle tightly to see the ex-agent panting against the wall. A large wound on his shoulder.

Leon gasped out and looked over at him as he neared his line of vision.

"Sebastian." Leon panted. "Or do you prefer your other name again these days?"

"Where's Claire?" Hunk asked curtly.

"Engine room." Leon tried to stand.

Hunk dispatched a shot next to Leon's leg, the gun jerked harshly in Hunk's hands. The sniper bullet tore a large hole in the ground. "Stand down."

Leon scoffed and slid back down to the ground. "Is this punishment for trying to blow you up with a cannon?" He asked, a glimmer of humor stretching out between them.

"You missed." Hunk replied, a tiny lift from the corner of his mouth.

"Saddler is going to take her." Leon said then, anger flashing through his eyes. He reached up and grasped his neck. A large mass could be seen moving back and forth before the skin settled. "You have to get her out of here. He knows about her virus now."

Hunk's eyes narrowed before he slightly lowered his rifle and turned. He had seen the stairs for the engine room further down the deck.

"Take care of her, Sebastian. She deserves that. I couldn't give that to her, but I wanted to." Leon called as he leaned his head back.

Hunk paused and looked back at the agent.

"She's not going to leave you here." Hunk replied.

"She may not have a choice. Saddler has another ship he's preparing at an island 30 miles North, in the Bay of Biscay. It's leaving in two days." Leon grunted and gripped his shoulder. "Go! There's not a lot of time."

Hunk nodded once, hazel eyes acknowledging the remaining grey-blue that peeked out beneath the sea of red in Leon's irises.

"Kennedy." He bid in departure as he turned back and quickly made his way toward the stairs. Killing Kennedy would have been easy, and he should have, but that wasn't his choice. It was hers.

Hunk could hear shouts echoing below. He quickly reloaded the rifle.

Pushing through the last of a fire deck hallway, he emerged on a tall catwalk that overlooked the machines in the room. The flicker of flames caught his attention on a machine with multilevel platforms.

"You paraded yourself as a man of faith, and I think it's only fitting that you are thrown into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth!" he heard Claire shout as she threw something, and fire erupted on the staggered lord.

He lifted his scope to his eye and watched as she stumbled back, the railing next to her was bloody before it erupted into flames. Hunk leveled his scope at Saddler who was saying something to her and watched as the tail rose behind him.

Hunk fired.

The .50 BMG anti-material round tearing through Saddler's neck. The shot was devastating even at this range.

Hunk reloaded the breech and fired again through Saddler's head. The man in robes fell off the platform, landing with a crack against the grating of the engine room. A bubbling movement of mass already trying to heal Saddler from within his body.

Hunk reloaded. His nimble fingers slamming the bullet into place. Saddler was moving now, gripping the doors of the empty elevator shaft before flying up through it. Hunk waited for a moment before he stood and looked out to Claire.

"Claire!" He yelled. She didn't move from her slumped position against the railing.

Feeling the edges of fear he had when she had been on the dais, he quickly slung the rifle over his shoulder and charged down the ramp. The Engine began sputtering, and a high-pitched whine bleated throughout the room.

He rounded the railing for the stairs to the engine and moved up. He dodged the fires that licked up and around the tall unit. His breath a steady song in his ears as he urged his body to move faster. Only one more ladder separated them, just as it had from the beginning.

When he made it to the third level, he gazed down at Claire's form. She was white as a sheet and one arm was blackened from the elbow down. He quickly eliminated the space between them and pulled her up, resting her back on his knee as he squatted.

"Claire," he said breathlessly as he felt for a pulse on her neck. Weak, but present.

"Claire, wake up." He ordered.

An alarm sounded off below as smoke began to billow out in earnest. Hunk lifted her and slung her over his shoulder, grimacing as it was the one he dislocated. He wrapped his good arm around the back of her legs and began to run.

Charging back through the machine room, the mercenary ran for the stairs and took them two at a time as he held Claire steady in his arms.

Something exploded behind him.

He ascended from the lower levels, eyes hard as he focused on his breathing and kept Claire steady on his shoulder. Thankfully, when he reached the area he had left Leon in, the agent was missing.

As he made his return to the weather deck, a loud screech met his ears. A tall figure was walking toward him on the deck. The creature walked upright like a man, but that's where the similarities ended. Its sinewy form was lengthened by claws and mandibles were opening back and forth slowly on its face. A long boney tail flicked back and forth as it walked.

Hunk lowered Claire down and laid her back against a crate. He yanked the sniper rifle off his back and quickly kneeled in front of the unconscious woman, keeping her within his periphery.

The creature began to run.

Hunk inhaled and released. The shot tore through the neck of the creature, causing it to stumble but not stop. It was closer now.

Hunk's steady hand reached into the pouch and slammed the large bullet into the breech. The second round tore a hole in its chest. It screamed and slowed, but kept coming. Hunk reached for the next round and found his pocket empty.

In silence, he tossed his rifle down, lifted to his feet, and grabbed his combat knife in one hand, gripping his last grenade in the other. Hunk began to run to meet the monster in the middle of the boat.

The creature jumped, and Hunk dove to the side to avoid the swipe he knew was coming. The years of training found him rolling back up to his feet and pivoting steadily, meeting the monster face-to-face. He lifted a leg and slammed his boot into its chest with a well placed kick, staggering it. The combat knife found its home in a glowing eye, and the creature screamed its anger to the dark night that covered Spain.

Hunk let go of his knife, pulled the pin on the grenade in his other hand, and lunged forward to shove it into the thing's mouth. The dance of a trained killer found him yanking his knife back out and sweeping its leg out from under it.

Time was up. He sheathed the knife with a twirl of his wrist at his side and shoulder-rolled back toward the middle of the deck.

Boom

The bottom half of the monster tipped over and crashed to the ground with the raining gore of mutated tissue. Hunk huffed and turned his back on the cooling body of the enemy. He leaned down to pick his rifle back up and looked at Claire when he neared. Golden hazel eyes were wavering as he took in her shallow breathing. Her skin seemed to be regaining some color but he knew he needed to get her to safety and get her warm.

Suddenly, Hunk heard water sputtering and a motor from the left side of the deck. He glanced once more around the deck and found no enemies. When he was certain Claire would be safe, he jogged over to the side of the deck. Looking out, he observed as two figures pulled away on one of the smaller ships. The masthead light above punching a hole through the darkness. He silently thanked Kennedy for the information about the bay as he turned back to scoop up Claire.

Hunk was turning for the dock and running for the ramp at the far end. He was releasing a heavy breath when he took a step back on land. The mercenary's eyes scanned the area for somewhere safe. There were coastguard stations further down the beach. Anything else was going to be reached outside of the valley. With the decision made, he turned and began to run again; the slumbering redhead in his arms didn't stir once.

The Grim Reaper found himself whispering to her softly as he clutched her to his chest. The man made for death prayed for life and somewhere, he knew the Gods must be grinning at what they created.

Claire woke to the steady beat of a fan overhead. For a moment, she thought she was in bed at home before the memories came flooding back. She opened her eyes and looked up into the darkness of the room she was suddenly in. She could hear someone's steady breathing above her and she knew from the sounds bouncing off the walls around her that she couldn't be on the boat any longer. She realized last that her head was being cradled and a hand rove through her loose hair.

"You awake?" A familiar voice questioned tiredly.

Claire inhaled sharply and tried to quickly sit up.

"Easy, easy." Sebastian's voice commanded softly. Warm hands were on her shoulders and she reached back and touched one, finding the warmth she had thought lost.

"Sebastian?" Her voice wobbled as she blinked into the dark.

They were sitting on the ground in some sort of wooden structure; the sound of the surf could be heard crashing not too far off. Claire released the hand, fully sat up, and turned her upper body toward his voice.

A flashlight flickered to life on the ground and bright hazel eyes looked into hers.

Tears filled Claire's eyes and she reached forward to touch his chest. Sebastian gave a rare grin in response and tilted his head at her from the side. His touch was gentle as he reached out and grasped her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips for a kiss.

"Hey, Claire." He toned softly.

Claire let out a sobbing laugh and moved slowly into his lap, curling into his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck and just let her tears fall for a moment. His name fell from her lips in a repeated prayer and Claire thought she felt him shake at the sound.

Sebastian's arms came around her and pulled her closer against him. One of his hands slid up her back and reached in to bring her face up. He lifted her gaze to his and he was thumbing away the tears as he had in their hotel room. He whispered hushing sounds and his eyes displayed the words that seemed to be lost to him.

She let out a watery laugh and leaned her forehead into his. Their breaths mingling in the small space of the growing relationship they seemed to be falling into without a care. Claire lifted her forehead from his and tilted her face to kiss him gently.

Sebastian's hands were moving into her hair as he pulled it out of its messy ponytail. His bandaged fingers were tangling in her hair as he responded to her lips against his.

Claire's arms tightened around his neck, afraid that she would blink and find him gone.

"You're mine too." She whispered in between her increasing fervor against his mouth.

He paused and opened his eyes to look into hers.

"Yours?" He asked as he bit her bottom lip.

"Mine." She answered with conviction around his teeth.

Sebastian and Claire had awakened a few hours later. Sebastian had held Claire close and told her to sleep to regain her strength. Claire had been hesitant but eventually settled back against him as she had done in the village. She had kept one of his hands clutched to her chest when she had fallen asleep. Sebastian had wrapped his other arm around her middle and when she would shift, she was pleased to find the arm tightening around her in his slumber.

When she opened her eyes, the dawn was an hour off. She looked up and over her shoulder to catch the rare sight of a sleeping Sebastian above her. Claire took in the sight and realized she had never seen him sleep; he had usually risen before her the last few times.

Along with the angles and dips that made up his chiseled features, she took in the various scrapes and bruises that littered his skin. Two of his fingers on his hand were wrapped, minor cuts and scrapes were drawn across his neck, and a few of his pouches on his chest were barely hanging on by a thread. His dark, disheveled hair lay gently across his face, strands tickling his closed eyes.

Claire felt a sweet morning smile crease her cheeks and she found herself thanking her luck for crossing the man's path not once, but twice.

As if he sensed her gaze, Sebastian's eyes opened and he blinked once before looking up at her. His mouth quirked up into a matching smile. Smiles he only seemed to give her.

"Never took you for a creep." His voice scratched as his vocal cords warmed up.

"The biggest you've ever met." She replied with rasp in her own voice. "Good morning."

"Morning." He said as he sat up slightly. Claire was scooting away to allow him further space, but the arm he had around her in the night closed fully around her again.

Claire let out a soft grunt and gave him a quirked brow. Sebastian was pulling his flask from his belt to take a drink. He handed it to her with that slow smile touching his features. "Don't go far." His arm was releasing her slowly.

Claire took a drink and considered him with warmth growing in her cheeks from his protective nature. "You're hard to kill, you know?"

"Your friend has a bad aim."

Claire was laughing but stopped as she looked down at the hand she had extended with the flask. The skin had healed over and tiny white scars littered her skin like tattoos. Her face fell.

"What is it?" Sebastian asked as he pulled a knee up.

"I'm—" Claire started before she scooted back, feeling foolish for even touching him earlier. "I'm infected."

"I know, Leon told me."

"You spoke with Leon?" She asked, turning her worried gaze to him. Wondering then how Sebastian had gotten her out.

"He's still alive." Sebastian said, reading her gaze. He scooted toward her.

"Stop!" Claire said quickly, putting a hand up with fear lacing her voice. "Have you ever heard of the T-Veronica Virus?"

Sebastian narrowed his gaze at her and grabbed her hand, tugging her toward him. "Little late to worry about infection now. I think we'd know by now if I was going to turn."

Claire allowed him to pull her closer with a bite to the inside of her cheek. He was studying her hand and wrist, flipping her hand fully to look at the spiraling veins that seemed darker beneath her skin.

"I've read about it, the Ashford virus. That particular virus was an artificial RNA virus created using the base template of Progenitor as raw material and combined with the ancient retrovirus extracted from the genome of a Queen Ant." He spoke. "Supposed to also contain genes from a plant."

"Well, shit, all of that I didn't know. I've just seen what it does. What Alexia did to her father, my friend Steve, and herself." Claire said softly.

"And now you're the only successor of that." He said with a sigh.

"No, Albert Wesker took Steve's body. I know he has a sample."

Sebastian looked angry at that. He pulled his head back and she watched his jaw clench.

"You know him." She said, tilting her head. That made sense, as Wesker had worked for Umbrella before he betrayed them.

"Yes, I do." Sebastian answered simply.

"What I don't understand is how I've had it all this time and never knew. Why is it manifesting now? Why am I not contagious?" She said as she tried again to remember her health in the past six years.

"I imagine that someone inserting a parasite into your system may jump start a reaction." Sebastian supplied carefully.

Claire jolted. "Sebastian, if something happens, I want you to kill me—"

"I'll put you down." Sebastian answered, looking at her with a severe expression.

"Well, at least there's that... No mushy declarations?" She asked with a small smile as she lightly shoved his shoulder.

"Not my style, but it's the last thing I want to do." He admitted as he looked down at her. His eyes flicked down to her throat; the necklace was dangling still.

Claire, noticing his stare, reached up and touched the pendant. "I think you were right. After everything, this still shows up at the end of the day."

Sebastian leaned forward and reached up to cup her face.

"You were burning Saddler." He said with a touch of awe.

"Fasten me upon your heart as a seal of fire forevermore." Claire quoted softly as she stared into his eyes. "Aren't you even a little worried that I could burn you alive by accident, Sebby?"

"You've been doing that to me for six years." Sebastian said with ease as he released her face and moved to take her hand. His thumb running over her scars. "I've found I rather like it."

His communicator gave a beep and he looked down at it before he looked back at her.

"Have you ever heard of Blue Umbrella?" He asked then.