Chapter 15: Between Two Points

As Claire neared the room with the light shining out, she stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed the glass in the doorway.

The double swinging door had one side propped open with what looked like a small footstool. Light spilled out from the overhead lighting somewhere in the back of the room, giving it the look of a searchlight pointing out toward the hall. She had found the portable lab.

The glass on the ground was smashed to tiny slivers, but the blood around the circular tube that had remained intact made her look around at the rest of the glass.

Claire felt like she was suddenly nineteen again and standing in the muted diner. In her mind's eye, she could see the disheveled looking cook shambling toward her with rubbery red lips. Her body began to tense as she looked down at the broken shards.

"Go slow, if it gets bad, I'll go get Diaz." She thought as she squared her shoulders. She wanted to make sure Michaels was ok first.

She heard something move beyond the doorway and she quietly pulled the Beretta that Sebastian had given her earlier into her hand.

Claire's mind began to move into overdrive as she considered the possibilities. She took a tentative step toward the doorway as she remembered that Michaels had hurt his leg, so it was entirely possible he had been clumsy and couldn't clean up the mess if he dropped something.

Her mind was laughing at her, letting her know that she knew better. She heard the scraping sound again in the distance.

Avoiding the glass beneath her boots, Claire took another step and entered the portable lab.

This room was an outer portion to a larger kitchen. It had been repurposed recently; boxes sat on the ground with different cooking ware piled inside.

Two of the kitchen's refrigerators on the left side of the room had been turned into a makeshift blood bank. Both double units stood wide open as the cool air poured into the room. The broken blood collection tubes that littered the ground caught her eye as she wondered if hers was among them.

The repurposed kitchen was walled off by an island attached to a dividing wall that reached to the top of the ceiling ahead. She couldn't see deeper into the room without going left or right.

Lifting her gun, she moved forward quietly as she glanced down to find the best path without making noise.

Her mind briefly went to Rosburg and wondered if she had been too fast to send him on his way. Her mind replayed his cautionary words; she would need to warn Sebastian that his identity may be compromised.

Around the island was a straight shot of a narrow walkway with cabinets that lead into the deep room of the main kitchen. On the left-hand side, Claire could see where the ovens had been previously. There were outlines of their shapes against the wall. On the right side of the room ahead, countertops where chefs had prepared the food had been cleared of all kitchen items and had various looking machines churning away. A large power cable ran from somewhere far around the corner and supplied the machines with the necessary power for their position.

Glancing at the ground, Claire found the path clear to move up quietly. She swung her gun back and forth as the positioning opened her up to a better view of the widened room on both sides. The right side with the equipment stopped short and revealed more cabinets. The left side of the room broadened out and had a secondary hall connected to it.

The disturbance in this room was not as blatant as the area with the refrigerators. Where that had been undeniable, Claire really had to take a closer look at the surrounding area to notice that something had happened here.

Papers had been knocked from one counter and laid half beneath another counter. A cup of coffee had spilled near the far-left side of one of the counters; the spill was almost out of sight. Some of the liquid was still dripping from the counter as if this had just happened minutes ago. The faint smell of harsh chemicals hit her and as Claire looked toward one of the running machines, she realized that the top to a water chamber had been left open. A pool of clear liquid sat at the base of it. The glint from a pair of broken laboratory glasses laying on the counter still had flecks of wet blood spotted on the lenses.

Claire took a deep breath and pointed her body and her gun toward the hall on the left side. The hallway led to a single old-fashioned door that was slightly ajar. She could see the blue light from screens flickering on the door frame as she made her way closer.

Readjusting her grip on the weapon, she pushed the door open with her boot slowly. The door arced slowly and just as it was halfway open, her gaze snapped to the body of a man in a lab coat laying on the ground. His head was twisted at the wrong angle. Where his chest was lying flat on the ground with his palms on the tile, his face was looking up at the ceiling with frozen eyes and his mouth was still open in a scream. On the ground next to him was a woman in an identical coat. Her face was turned away from Claire.

She didn't recognize either of them.

As the door kept swinging open, her eyes caught on the tall form that emerged. He was standing with his back to Claire, looking up at the screens that had been mounted above a desk. The man wore a black suit that led up to a powerful back and to a full head of short blonde hair.

"Ah, dear heart, it's been a long time." The familiar aristocratic voice called as Albert Wesker turned his head to glance at her over his shoulder.

Claire felt as her hands began to shake, and she let out a whimper of a breath.

The Ex-S.T.A.R.S. captain had met her a few times prior to the Rockfort incident. Chris had attended a few of the Christmas parties and had brought her along. When he had shown up in Rockfort, she had almost forgotten she wasn't happy to see him. She had read what he did from the reports in Raccoon, and she had been in disbelief that he could ever betray his team.

After he had brutalized her on the steps of the Rockfort facility, he promised to hunt down her brother and eventually her. In the end, it hadn't quite worked out that way, but hearing him call her that pet name now let her know that he hadn't forgotten his promises or his encounter.

Albert Wesker was one of the things Claire Redfield feared the most.

He was no longer fully human.

Zombies were at least indiscriminate, as were most of the creatures she had encountered. Even Ganados and Leon were removed from the selection of blame; they were just doing what they were told.

Wesker did what he wanted.

Claire took a step back as she kept her gun trained on him.

"I don't believe that's necessary." Wesker's deep chuckle was a purr of a man who knew he was in no danger. "You're looking quite well considering the years that have passed. I would almost dare to say that you haven't aged a day..." Wesker was turning fully toward Claire.

"Need to get out, need a distraction." She thought as she calculated her odds of beating him out of the kitchen.

She remembered his speed in their last encounter and the way his eyes had lit up previously. She'd never beat him in a footrace.

Claire glanced down at the bodies again. She briefly took note that Michaels wasn't present among the dead. Deciding quickly, she acknowledged it was better to engage than flee until she had a better opportunity.

Many predators were incited by the chase.

"What are you doing here, Wesker?"

"Keeping an eye on my interests, Ms. Redfield. Imagine my surprise when a blood sample report was sent out by the U.S. agency with odd markers in the note files. A request made for a higher-level review for a virus when this country is dealing with parasites." Wesker punctuated as he took a step toward her.

Claire felt as her fear stumbled on her curiosity. He had intercepted the blood sample report.

"What's happening to me?" She heard herself ask, her gun unwavering.

Wesker gave her his half smile before his eyes flared and he was before her, his hand on the gun. He pulled the gun carefully out of her shaking hands and looked down at her as one would a child.

"Something quite unique." He said as he watched her stumble backwards.

"Many normal viruses infect humans, and most are controlled satisfactorily by the immune system with limited damage to host cells." Wesker said as he reached out and grabbed her chin, when she began to struggle, he gripped her harder. Claire went still.

"Some viruses, Like the T-Virus, do cause overt damage to the host, as you very well know, either in isolated cases or as a reaction that commonly occurs after infection. The outcome is influenced by properties of the infecting virus, the circumstances of infection and several factors controlled by the host's cells."

Wesker pushed a gloved finger into her mouth and pulled her lower lip down with the thumb of the hand holding her chin. Claire tried to protest and pull away but the blonde looked into her eyes and flexed his grip to her neck, pushing on her trachea. Claire knew that she was not a person before him at this moment, but an animal to bring to heel, a subject to study.

Claire yielded her struggles fully as she glared into his eyes.

Wesker returned to studying her gums as he continued, "Factors including genetic susceptibility, the age of the host when infected, the dose and route of infection, the induction of anti-inflammatory cells and proteins, as well as—well, I'm sure you get the idea."

Claire let out a growl as his other hand moved from her mouth down to where he held her neck. He pressed carefully at her glands.

"I-I don't—" she tried to speak around the pressure of his hands.

"Heterologous immunity," Wesker breathed. "A phenomenon which is generated during an earlier infection is then reactivated in response to a second, non-identical infection."

Claire's eyes widened as she took in the information.

"You should have died in Raccoon, Claire." Wesker said softly as he studied her eyes. "You were infected, but instead your body was able to nullify your infection; you're immune to the T-Virus. However, at Rockfort, you came into contact with Alexia. Do you remember anything before your dear brother woke you up?"

Claire could feel her pulse hammering beneath the hand on her neck. She had been a captive to Alexia for a small time, pinned to a wall by a web.

"Alexia's biggest fault is that she liked to play with her food. Had she been paying attention, she would have realized what she gave away: A new and rare mutation of the T-Veronica virus with the assistance of complex heterologous immunity with the T-Virus." Wesker breathed as he suddenly let her go.

"Without the need of all the previous conditions for prolonged growth, you have carried the Veronica strain without incident for six years…"

"This? This is their punishment, Claire. You took something from them, and your body isn't mutating, it's thriving; I have more wounds than you do." Sebastian's earlier words circled her.

"A doctor here drew my blood. Why didn't it react then?" She asked as she touched her throat as she met his gaze dead on.

"Curious, isn't it? I'm sure you'll be able to take a guess." Wesker said as he cocked his head at her. "It's a shame that Mr. Kennedy didn't share his findings with you. I hear he knows quite a bit about the conditions of living successfully with the T-Veronica Virus. I'm sure if he thought very hard, he would also know how to even save himself now."

Claire opened her mouth to demand more but saw the reflection from the light above hit the blade he pulled out.

In a blur, he had grabbed her wrist, flipped her hand, and made a quick slice over the skin of her left palm.

Claire stared down as her blood began to well before fire erupted in her hand. The sudden light revealing Wesker's red and yellow irises through his sunglasses; a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Wesker began to laugh.

'''The Fire of the Forge, first to be devoured and the last to be yielded up again.'" Wesker quoted part of her drafted thesis and the lore of Hestia softly. "An International Affairs degree with a minor in Religious Studies. Tell me, Claire, have you always looked to stories to tell you who you are?"

Wesker's hand was still clasped around her arm, and she stared down at it for a moment before flicking her wrist at him. Blood arced toward him, and he became a streak. He appeared on her other side, the red of the fire bloomed behind him.

"Pouring over books, pining for something to give you meaning as you waste your precious time in social affairs just to feel closer to a humanity you no longer own. What if I told you that being God was not so far off?" Wesker asked as he cocked his head at her.

"Fuck you, Captain." Claire hissed his old title. A memory of him smiling slightly over his desk at her surfaced from many years ago. "I certainly never needed a virus to tell me who I was!"

"No, you rely on symbolism to teach you what you feel." Wesker looked down at her hand. "Truly miraculous. How special and interesting you have become, Ms. Redfield."

He paused and looked toward the door then. "I shall enjoy seeing what you can do, dear heart. I suspect I'll be seeing you quite soon."

He tugged his left glove higher on his left wrist and gave her an appraising look. "Ms. Redfield." He said, and then he was gone.

Claire stared at the empty space he had previously occupied before she looked down at the dying light in her hand. The skin was already knitting together; the ash of her old skin whispering into the air. She let out a sad laugh and dropped her hand. It wasn't enough to deal with the situation in Spain. Now, she needed to worry about more powerful men and their promises.

The fire in front of her had started to grow larger due to the papers scattered around the room. Her eyes fell on the two researchers, and she felt like she was cursing them as she sent up her silent prayer.

Claire scooped up her gun and hurried for a fire extinguisher she had seen previously. When she heard the crunching of glass down the hall, a part of her hoped that it was Wesker coming back to finish the job.

"What have you done?" A voice called out from the island near the exit.

Claire looked up at Michaels who stared at her and then toward the rolling smoke that was slowly consuming the lab.

Sebastian stared across the outer valley of Santander as the truck bounced along the free gravel paths.

The last streets of the bay town had disappeared from sight about two hours ago. The conversation on the ride between he and Orski had been pretty much nonexistent, Sebastian had no qualms about the silence. His mind couldn't stop wandering. He rubbed his bottom lip with his knuckle as he leaned against the passenger door. Thoughts of ivory skin, russet colored hair and soft sighs kept interrupting his concentration.

As a mercenary, he had acquired quite a bit of wealth from his contracts. Much of that went towards travel, maintaining his equipment, training, and small tastes he had.

Women had been like anything else; something to be purchased for use. No questions were ever asked when the agreement was purely about base needs. Seeking physical intimacy had never been accompanied by specific details in the past. Except for one condition he had decided on six years ago; he never again sought the service of women with red hair after he had escaped Raccoon.

Five days ago, when he had agreed to accompany Claire Redfield while he also sought to acquire the sample for Albert Wesker, he hadn't known what he expected to accomplish out of seeing her again. It had frustrated the hell out of him when he kept seeing her face in his dreams. The fighter's spirit with Made in Heaven on her back and the power of an archangel in her gaze.

He hadn't even known she was alive until three months after Raccoon. Rockfort had been attacked and the Umbrella Security Service had reviewed the footage over the last 24 hours. He still remembered the report word for word.

"Identification Number: WKD4496 – Claire Redfield. Caught trespassing in the Paris Facility on December 2nd. She was placed in custody and delivered to the RockFort Facility by 3rd Squad Leader, Rodrigo Juan Raval.

Shortly after her arrival, the base had been attacked. Our footage reveals there are a few other individuals that work alongside her including Christopher Redfield. An Ex-S.T.A.R.S. member that discovered the Arklay Laboratory. Ms. Redfield is known to be armed and dangerous and is a survivor of the Raccoon City Incident. Eighty-seven men died trying to capture her."

Sebastian had reviewed footage of her running through the compounds he knew so well, and he had found himself leaning toward the screen while he watched that fighter's spirit in action.

When he had viewed her fighting the tyrant in the cargo of the plane, he had frozen in his seat. The anger in her eyes had been mesmerizing like when she had fought Birkin. Her heart-shaped face and striking cerulean eyes had transitioned into something fiercer when she was angry. A warning to those who would do harm upon the undeserving.

Seeing her again for the second time had made him feel ravenous.

When he had stepped off the plane with her this week, he found himself teasing her just to see that lovely ire rise in her eyes. There had been something raw about every interaction; her words inciting something he had never allowed himself to do with anyone else. Her responses and reactions in the castle had caught him off guard as she faced challenges with more compassion that had manifested into righteous anger.

When she had kissed him that morning in the village, something had shifted. Having her cling to him for safety in the cathedral had nearly made his will come undone. When she had whispered her fears into the dark of the hotel, everything changed. It was the soft touches she gave him that pierced him the most and the way her eyes lit up when he told her something personal or alluded to something he liked.

"You're mine too."

He had stuck around for a few moments after he had kicked the ladder down to her in Raccoon. He had hidden himself in the shadows and watched as she had walked past in search of him. When she didn't find him, she turned and bid her thanks into the darkness. Her voice had curled around him, and it had been the first time he had such a strong reaction to a woman. To anyone.

Sebastian had seen the look she gave him in the hotel before he left. The more she did it, the more he craved it. The more she gave, the more he wanted to take. When he looked into her eyes, he saw the same coveting stare looking back; like calling to like.

A deep hum began to fill the valley around them.

"Heads up," Orski said, interrupting his thoughts. Sebastian looked over as the older agent beside him pointed up at the sky through the windshield.

Sebastian leaned forward and looked up to see what looked like a black Apalachee helicopter flying high above.

"Air clearance for one of ours?" Sebastian asked with furrowed brows.

"Doubtful," Orski said with a shake of his head as he leaned back in his seat. "Without the comms up, they wouldn't dare to send anyone through without Spain's military on alert. That's either Saddler's or a third party."

"Let me see the radio." Sebastian spoke.

Orski quickly handed the radio over as glanced over at Sebastian who turned the volume up and hailed the channel for the hotel.

"Bay Unit, this is Unit One, over." Sebastian called. Static. He waited for a few more beats before he repeated his message to the command center at the hotel.

"Try Diaz, go to Command Five."

Sebastian flicked the knob and hailed Diaz's call sign. Static.

Sebastian dropped the radio from his mouth and took a deep breath through his nose. There it was. The pressure that had kept creeping into his chest. It hadn't gone away since he had boarded the boat to save Claire.

"Shit!" Orski shouted as he suddenly yanked the wheel of the truck to the left.

Sebastian managed to catch sight of the sizable hole in the road before the momentum of the turn took it out of sight. He gripped the handle on the door as the truck fishtailed. The back end of the truck began to dip.

The tires of the truck began to kick up gravel as Orski applied the gas to pull it forward. Only one of the back tires got traction. The truck continued to slide backwards as the weight in the back swung toward the rules of gravity.

"Out!" Sebastian commanded as he reached into the back and snagged his duffle.

Orski swore and let go of the wheel as he did the same. Both men shoved their doors open and jumped from the truck as it continued to slide backwards until it tipped into a wide gaping hole.

Orski walked up beside Sebastian as the dirt flying around began to settle, the sun above caused some of the debris to glint around them. The older agent let out a tired sigh.

"You want the good news or the bad news?" Orski asked.

Sebastian shifted his eyes over to the man without turning his head. Waiting.

"Well, the good news is we're here and I still have some of the explosives." The older man lifted a bag at his side.

"What's the bad news?" Sebastian asked with a huff.

"Pretty sure the ground is moving around the mine entrance."

Sebastian looked over at the canyon face. He could barely make out the small dark opening that led into the mines. What he thought was the heat waves making the ground shimmer was in fact the shifting dirt as the parasites moved back and forth freely under the soil.

"You ever feel like there's just a greater force at work, Orski?" Sebastian asked with a hint of humor in his tone.

Orski let out a snort and glanced over at him. "All the time."

Claire grunted as the fire extinguisher in her hands slipped when she sprayed the chemicals over the fire in the lab. With Michaels' bum leg, she hadn't trusted him to be able to do it without falling. There was also the problem of all the yelling he was still doing behind her.

"Well?! Answer me!" Claire caught him saying as she let go of the nozzle. The smoke had filled the small room and she had been trying to take small bursts of breath to limit her exposure to smoke inhalation.

She set the extinguisher down and turned toward Michaels. His face was red and sweating as his wild eyes searched her face. She wondered if he had even realized that his assistants were dead. From their position, it was hard to see them on the ground in the room to the right.

Claire said nothing as she walked forward and grabbed his arm as she pulled him carefully toward the exit.

"We need to get into the hall to open a window and then we can talk." She finally said wearily.

"Fuck you!" Michaels shook her hand off and stumbled back with the one crutch under his armpit.

He opened his mouth to bellow something else when the fire alarm above them began to blare. The sprinklers overhead began raining over them both.

"Little late." Claire thought as her bangs began plastering against her face.

"My work! Help me get these files! Hurry!" The doctor was spinning around trying to put papers under his coat. A few pages spilled at his feet, soaking up the water that had begun to pool below.

Claire heard the scuff of boots and looked toward the doorway to see Diaz stumble around the bend of the island counter

"What happened?" He asked breathlessly.

"This stupid bitch destroyed my lab!" Michaels yelled as he continued to snatch papers and folders.

"I didn't destroy the lab!" Claire as her temper caught up with her.

She had technically caused the fire though. She coughed and shook the thought away before covering her mouth with part of her camisole.

"Let's go, we need to get out into the hall." Diaz said.

Claire gestured to Michaels and said, "You make him leave then." She pushed past Diaz and made her way out to the hall near the painting of Thanatos.

Looking over, she spotted a small decorative table with a vase. Glancing up at the stained-glass window, she moved the vase and picked up the table.

With a crash, the table roared through the window and allowed the soft light of Spain's afternoon sun to spill through the hall. Claire then turned back toward the double doors of the kitchen and pulled the second door open. The window had created a vacuum that she watched pull the smoke outside.

As she heard the two agents coming through the door behind her, she could hear the continued screeching of Michaels. She turned on her heel only to catch the top of the crutch to her forehead. The blow caused her to stumble into the wall with a yell.

Diaz was grabbing Michaels under the arms and slamming him into the wall next to her. His crutch fell from his grasp and to the floor. Binders and papers fluttered around Claire's feet.

"She fucking killed them both and tried to cover it up with the fire!" Michaels' roar echoed in the hall.

"Calm down now, Eddie!" Diaz said above him. "Their heads are twisted backwards. Do you really think she could do that?" Diaz's eyes flashed over to hers as he wrestled with the distraught doctor.

Claire panted as she quickly swiped her forehead and looked down at her hand. No blood; he hadn't broken the skin. She felt relief before she felt her body shudder in the anger she had been trying to keep a desperate hold on.

"I did not kill them or set your lab on fire, Eddie." Claire snarled out his first name as she held her throbbing forehead. "I found them like that. I had literally just walked in. Rosburg is the one that brought me down here!"

"Then who was it!"

"I don't know!" Claire yelled, feeling something twang inside her as she lied.

Telling them of Wesker would open questions she could no longer afford to answer. On paper to the government, she was no different than Sherry.

"We'll sort it out in command. We need to have the hotel searched. Did you get what you needed?" Diaz said, looking from Claire back to Michaels.

"Yeah," Michaels took a breath as he pulled some papers out from under his arm. "I just need to know what the biggest imports from Spain were to the U.S. in the last six months."

"I've got that pulled up. C'mon." Diaz said as he scooped up the papers on the ground. His eyes shifted to look over at Claire.

"She's not coming." Michaels said as he turned to snatch the items from Diaz. He began hobbling down the hall and took a few hurried steps. The papers under his arms started to shuffle again and in his attempt to catch them, he fell forward.

Claire pushed forward and grabbed Michaels up under his shoulder.

"Get up," she said fiercely as he opened his mouth to yell again. "You can take your pound of flesh later. I didn't kill your people and I sure as hell don't have the time for you to hold a grudge. Get up."

Michaels stumbled to his feet and pressed his lips together as he slowly made his way to the command center with her beside him. Claire steeled her spine as she prepared to learn what was on the ship heading home to their country.

In the cooling night of the valley, a Chevy Trailblazer's headlights highlighted the two weary men as they both sat on the ground waiting. It had taken Sebastian and Orski the better half of three hours to clear out the parasites, set the charges, and wait for the two other teams to get into position. Afterwards, with the loss of the truck, they had been forced to wait for pick-up by Rosburg and Miles.

It surely hadn't helped when Orski had fallen into one of the sinkholes in front of the mine opening. Twisting his ankle as a result, Sebastian had made to double back for him as the swarms poured from the hole. If there was such a thing as divine intervention, it had been in the forms of flashbangs, sheer grit, and unique forms of swearing.

Sebastian stood as he spotted the truck in the distance. "Think you can bear the weight?" He was looking down at Orski's ankle.

"Yeah, I got it. We're even now, by the way." Orski said. Referring to his assistance with the pipe. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and carefully stood on his own.

"Are we?" Sebastian asked with a cocked head.

"Well, I did throw the flashbangs." Orski admitted. "So, there's that."

"I brought the flash bangs." Sebastian countered.

"Yeah, but you couldn't reach them." Orski flicked his brows.

"I was busy lifting you out of the hole." Sebastian raised his.

"Nobody's perfect, kid."

"Get in the truck, old man."

Orski's guffawing laugh echoed over the valley.

It was almost 10:00 PM when the four men pulled up to the hotel and flung open their car doors. The area around the bay had been quiet. The fires in the city had burned through a larger section on the south side, but the area around the bay seemed to be suspiciously quaint. No one had been able to radio back to the base. There were a few hours left before the USS Gladiator arrived, and thus Sebastian's contacts from Blue Umbrella.

"Smith, do you—" Orski began to call as he flung open the truck's door, but Sebastian was already halfway up the double-set concrete stairs.

Sebastian looked up at the third story level and frowned as he saw each room's lights were off. He pushed open the door to the command center and saw Diaz typing away at one of the displays.

"Smith! Where's Orski?" Diaz said as he looked up from the papers that were spread all over the table. Michaels stood next to him, but as soon as Sebastian had entered, he turned toward his reports and didn't look up again.

"Why weren't you answering the radios?" Sebastian demanded as he crossed the room, heading for the elevator hallway.

"Radios were down due to—Hey wait!"

Sebastian didn't hear anymore as he pushed through the doors. The clink of his gear bounced along the halls as he strode quickly toward the elevators. His eyes caught on the painting that Claire had spoken about before they had reached the elevator. Sebastian shook his head as he hit the button in the elevator. He should have stopped to get the report from Diaz. Something had obviously happened while they were gone.

As he watched the floors climb, he gripped the strap of his bag tightly. He needed to make sure she was fine first. The thought of finding her pale on the engine catwalk caught in his hippocampus and he clenched his jaw. The pressure in his chest was becoming irritating, and the only way he could think to stop it was to find her.

Soon, he was pushing the door to their room open quietly. A faint light greeted him off toward the left, leading him through the hall and toward the columns that blocked a portion of his vision to see into the bedroom. With his bag forgotten in the hall, he began to pull off his gloves, eyes rippling on the curled form waiting for him in the bed.

The soft light from the bathroom spilled out into the stillness of the room, highlighting the form of Claire as she slept on her side. Her hair was spilled out on the white pillowcase behind her, accenting the dark red and browns in a curtain around her. Slender arms were cradled in front of her with a piece of black clothing resting under her left cheek. The necklace he had given her hung from her delicate neck.

Sebastian released a breath like it had been taken from him.

As he came to the side of the bed, he realized that the black article of clothing under her cheek was his shirt. The feeling in his chest felt like a lightning strike in the dark as he held the sight of her.

Her words from earlier came circling back as she had explained the painting in the hall; he really had been listening.

"Woman With a Parasol! Claude Monet, oh this is—sorry, I've only seen textbook pictures—obviously not the real one. I love paintings like this. Now, see the brush strokes? That's what's called impressionism. With the thin strokes, the darkened coloring he imposed gives it this overall blur. As if we were privy to a snapshot in his life with his family. To me, it looks like a passing moment we hold onto when we think of those closest to us. When you truly remember someone, you automatically go to these moments, like a huge filing cabinet in our heads… I read a book once that spoke to the concept of three deaths in our lives."

Her blue eyes had sought him. She had been unguarded, passionate, and the most radiant as she spoke freely.

"The first death being when your body dies, the second is when your body returns to the earth, and the last is when your memory is spoken of for the last time. The third death is representative of when there's no one left to recall who you actually were." She had pointed to the painting again. "When I look at paintings like this, I think about how lovely it is to have such a powerful image shared with the rest of us. She is, in some way, immortal from just this alone. Makes you wonder how the people closest to you see you."

As Sebastian gazed down at the small woman in the bed, he noted how the pressure in his chest didn't leave, but it grew into something that he would have liked to immortalize too.