Claire was a bit on the apprehensive side as they unloaded the hospital bed and various medical devices for Steve into the safe house. She found herself chewing on her thumbnail as they unloaded the bed first, followed by the IV stand and a couple of boxes of essentials. She assumed this wasn't the first time they'd had to bring in extra beds to accommodate so she didn't argue. It would be much easier to take care of the younger boy here than dealing with him in the much smaller bedroom.

Steve's injuries from his initial infection and mutation were much worse than Claire's. While she'd managed to get away with small cuts, bruises, strained muscles and sore joints, Steve had not been near as lucky. Rebecca took her aside for a moment.

"So listen…. He's stable, yes, but he's still going to need a lot of care for at least the next few weeks. He's not….. in bad shape, but he's hurt." She squeezed Claire's arm lightly to reassure her. "I think he's going to be okay, but I'm going to need you to help me, okay?"

Claire practically paced around the living room as her brother went to retrieve Steve from the van. She couldn't stop picturing him broken; his skin still tinted green and eyes red. Chris had mentioned that he would need to be sedated lightly for the travel, would he even be coherent?

The front door opened followed by the light squeak of metal on metal as Steve was pushed in on a silver wheelchair. He looked a little worse for wear – dark circles, small cuts on his face, deep bruising around his throat – but the smile plastered on his face told Claire he was going to be just fine.

"Hey, Beautiful."

"Hey." Claire felt tears sparking at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a mix of feelings wash over her – relief and anger. She was angry that Steve had put her through that, the worry and the hurt – but she was so relieved that he was sitting in front of her. "You're – ugh – su-such an asshole." She heard her voice quiver and she tore her eyes away from the younger boy, rubbing her eyes hard with her knuckle.

He gave a short laugh before wincing, applying pressure to his ribs with his palm. Even after everything he'd only broken two of his rib bones – probably from Alexia's tentacle – and fractured his knee cap – likely from the fall. Rebecca said he was very lucky, but Steve didn't feel that lucky. He felt bruised and broken.

After they got the boy comfortable in bed, Rebecca walked Claire through the process to change the IV (and assured the Redfield sibling that she would not have to change the needle). Next the medic opened one of the boxes, pulling out a smaller metal box from the inside.

"So we have…. Green herbs, mixed herbs – you're already familiar with those. Those you can give him pretty much as needed – you're also welcome to them if you need some pain management." Rebecca showed Claire pre-measured and ground doses of each. "Let me know if you start to run low and I'll bring more." She dug out a small, translucent orange bottle with white pills inside. The label had been removed. "This is the hard stuff, okay? Oxycodone. No more than once every 12 hours. You're going to want to make sure he eats before he takes this because it will make him sick if he doesn't. If he's not hungry, try the herb first. You'll mostly want to do the oxy before bed, because it will probably make him sleepy, but it's not a rule. Okay?"

Claire nodded, making mental notes of each. Seemed pretty straightforward, she'd used herbs probably a hundred times since Raccoon City. She was thankful they were pre-measured and that she didn't have to guess how much to give him or deal with the full leaves. They were bitter and the taste often lingered even after they'd been ingested.

"I'll be back tomorrow evening to check on you two. Claire, I fully intend on giving you a full examination too." Rebecca scribbled her phone number on the pad of paper next to the answering machine. "Call me if you need me to bring you anything or you have any questions. I'll answer, I promise."

Chris didn't stay for very long after Rebecca's departure, ready to head back to his own place and get some sleep. He'd taken a few short naps while keeping an eye over Rebecca but sorely needed sleep himself.

He took Claire by the shoulders, making sure she looked into his eyes for his parting words, "Claire, if there's an emergency, there's a loaded shotgun under your bed. Okay?" He spoke slowly and quietly, letting each of his words hang in the air.

She swallowed hard and her eyes flickered over to the redhead set up on the hospital bed before back to Chris. She nodded once and hoped it wouldn't come to that. "Yeah. …Love you, Chris."

"Love you too, Claire." He wrapped his arms around his younger sister, pulling her in close for a tight hug. "….Call me if you need anything okay? I'm just heading home to rest."

"Okay." She smiled weakly. "I will, I promise."

Once Chris departed and she locked the door (and checked three times in the first twenty minutes due to her heightened anxiety level), she dragged one of the mismatched dining chairs to sit beside Steve's temporary bed.

She felt a bit awkward and anxious – she'd built up in her head ten different ways she would lose him but none where she didn't. She didn't know what to say for a moment, sitting beside his bed silently. It felt surreal.

"….so, uh, how do you feel?" She asked flatly. She didn't know what else you could ask a boy who had technically died.

Steve was silent for a moment as though he were choosing his words carefully. "Sore. And Tired." He mumbled after a moment. Even with whatever cocktail Rebecca had him on for pain, his body ached. Deep. He moved his hand to clasp hers, his motions slow. He gave it a light squeeze. "….thanks, Claire."

She screwed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to keep the tears from starting again. "I told you we'd get out of that place together."

-x-

The first handful of hours was filled with awkward interaction and a strange shared discomfort. Claire wanted nothing more than to address his last words to her before he lost consciousness back in Antarctica. I love you. I love you. It kept running through her mind like a broken record. Did he mean it? Was he delirious? Was it the virus? Did Alexia have control over him at that moment? He was probably certain that he was going to die – would his words have been different if he thought he would see her again? The whole situation had her stomach in knots.

They both started to warm up to each other quickly. It was almost like running into an old friend a decade down the line and clicking immediately into place, even though they'd only known each other for a few days. She knew going through what they went through cemented a life-long bond, just like she shared that similar bond with Sherry and Leon. She felt both incredibly lucky and impossibly unfortunate to have such a strong bond with so many people.

Steve's breathing slowly became more labored and he shifted, applying a bit of pressure to his ribs. The sedation had worn off almost entirely, and he could feel the pain killer starting to wear off too.

Claire perked up, her brow furrowed as she stared at him. Was his body rejecting the vaccine? "Steve?"

"Mm?"

"Are you okay?" She swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

"Yeah." He smiled weakly, turning his head to look at her. "Think the pain killer is wearing off."

"Oh." She breathed a sigh of relief. She stood, locating the metal box Rebecca had shown her earlier. She fished out one of the small, pre-measured bags of herb. "Rebecca said I don't have to worry about giving you too much of this." She handed him the baggie. "Let me get you something to drink."

"Thanks." Steve eyed the red and green flakes. He'd never seen it ground like this, much more used to the full leaves of the plant.

Claire disappeared into the kitchen, picking up a glass and filling it with cool tap water. She dropped a few ice cubes into it and fished out a fast food straw from the junk drawer for him. She figured he still didn't have the dexterity to hold onto a glass and didn't want to have to deal with getting him changed while he was so sore.

Steve stared at the bag in his palm. He turned it over once and squeezed it, feeling the contents crunch between his fingers. He wasn't sure if he should just swallow it or if he was meant to mix it into something…

"You okay?" She laughed cautiously.

He felt his face get hot. He didn't even hear her come back in. "Yeah. …do I just like," he mimed pouring the bag into his mouth.

"Yeah. And then you'll have some water to wash it down." She held up the glass which already began to form condensation on the outside. "Easy, right?"

He nodded, fumbling with the top of the small bag before sighing and handing it off to Claire for help. She couldn't help but giggle as she took it from him, pinching each side and pulling it open.

"Okay, open your mouth."

Steve leaned back onto his pillow slightly, opening his mouth and feeling a faint blush creep across his cheeks. He couldn't say if it was embarrassment for being practically helpless, or because it felt incredibly intimate but either way he couldn't ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

Claire carefully dumped the contents into his mouth before bringing the straw up to his lips. "Here, water now."

He closed his mouth around the straw, taking a long sip. He wrinkled his nose as he swallowed. It felt like swallowing sand but was somehow still better than dealing with the full leaves.

"Ugh. There isn't an easier way to take that stuff?" He asked in between sips. The cold water was delicious and he could tell he needed it.

She found herself chuckling lightly as she set the now mostly empty glass on the table beside him. "Yeah, you can smoke it."

Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I'm sorry, what I should have said is you can smoke it but you will not be smoking it with a broken rib."

He sighed softly, giving a slight shrug as he settled back into the pillows. He pressed lightly on his rib cage and winced. He was thankful the herbs had already started to work.

Claire stretched her arms over her head with a groan. She felt her shoulders pop lightly. Her body was starting to ache from being in the same position. Her stomach growled.

"I'm getting hungry. How are you feeling? You ready for dinner?" She asked, standing and stretching again. The movement felt good even in her already sore muscles.

Steve hadn't really had much of an appetite. He was sure part of it was due to all of the medications, but couldn't help but wonder if dying played a major contribution in it. He shrugged in response, knowing the answer should probably be an emphatic 'yes' but just not having the desire to eat.

"….okay, well, tell you what, I'm going to make food and you're going to try to eat, okay? Rebecca said the herb's supposed to help with appetite so hopefully you'll be hungry by the time food's done."

He nodded, though wasn't sure that would actually be the case. Either way, he could muster a few bites and it would probably make him feel better.

"What's for dinner, then?" He gave a small smile.

"Do you have a preference?" She asked. He shook his head in response. She thought about it for a moment, knowing she should probably make something healthier than the macaroni and pizza rolls she'd had for dinner last night. "I could bake some chicken and there's some fresh broccoli too. Does that sound good?"

Steve felt the smallest inkling of an appetite. "…yeah, actually, it does."

-x-

It felt a little strange to settle back into a domestic life after everything she'd been through. It felt more real than it did last night as she prepared the chicken and preheated the oven. She had half of a thought to have a beer with dinner but decided against it, not wanting to impair herself while Steve needed so much care.

She listened for him to call but otherwise focused on dinner. Olive oil, salt and seasonings were rubbed into the chicken before it went into the oven. She chopped and sautéed the broccoli, getting more and more excited to eat as the meal came together. All of it felt normal and completely surreal at the same time.

She plated one for herself and a smaller helping for Steve. There was plenty left over if he wanted a second helping, but she didn't want to make him feel like he had to finish everything on his plate.

"Dinner's ready. Oh man, and if I say so myself, I think I did a pretty good job." She couldn't help but grin as she set Steve's plate down on the side table. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, actually." He wet his lips, looking over the simple meal Claire had cooked. He couldn't remember the last time someone cooked for him, much less someone like Claire. He had zero complaints. "Yeah, this looks really good, thanks, Claire."

"Can you handle it on your own?" She pointed her fork at him with a piece of broccoli speared on the end. "Or do you need me to feed you?"

Steve cocked an eyebrow. He almost didn't want to say no to that but he also didn't want to come off as entirely helpless. "I can do it."

She smiled and popped the broccoli into her mouth. She was impressed with cooking her first real meal in months – she'd made this in college all the time, it was cheap and easy while also being relatively nutritious. It even tasted better than she remembered, and she wasn't sure if the ingredients were better quality or if eating whatever she could to survive had really made her appreciate simple, fresh meals.

Much to both of their surprise, Steve finished everything on his plate and asked for a second helping. As soon as he began eating it became apparent how much he really needed the food – and part of him just wanted to let Claire know how much he appreciated her cooking.

Two helpings of food and plenty of ice water and Steve felt almost like a different person. His stomach was full and he felt more alert, the herb had eased his pain and he just felt…. Happy. For the first time in a long time, Steve Burnside was absolutely content.