Claire happily set Steve up in the kitchen as she finished preparing dinner. She rubbed the steaks down in spices – garlic, salt and pepper with a dash of soy sauce. She tossed them in the largest skillet she'd managed to find. As they began to cook and sizzle, she pulled a small dish and began to mix homemade garlic butter. It was another recipe Chris had taught her. The work was a little more than she preferred to do on a 'weekday evening' but it really felt like a night to celebrate.

She'd unplugged the stereo and brought it into the kitchen with them for ambiance, not affording him the option to pick the music. She put on her favorite Queen album – Made in Heaven. It really did feel like home with Freddie Mercury's vocals filling the kitchen as she cooked.

Steve watched her from the table, his leg propped up on one of the extra chairs. It just felt good to be out of bed, if he were to be honest. But there was something about the way Claire measured, mixed and moved in the kitchen that he found fascinating.

His mother had been a decent cook, sure. But there was something about Claire's cooking that was just better, somehow. He wondered if her brother were as good as a chef. He watched intently as Claire peeled bacon from the package and wrapped it around individual pieces of asparagus, securing it with a toothpick. He liked the little knit she got in her brow when she was concentrating.

She slid the newly bacon wrapped vegetables into the already pre-heated oven, washing her hands with soap and water before tending to the steaks.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" Steve finally asked, his palm pressed to his face with his elbow resting on the table.

"Oh, Chris taught me." She smiled. "Just like he taught me how to fight and how to read a map and a bunch of other stuff, too. After our parents died, he wanted to make sure I could protect myself if I needed to." She flipped the steaks in the pan, causing a bit of steam to rise from the skillet as it cooked.

"Your parents are dead, too?" He asked, softer this time.

"Yeah." Claire leaned on the counter. "I mean, it was a long time ago. Years ago, now. I miss them, but…." She trailed off.

"But?"

"I mean… I've got this whole new family." She shrugged lightly. "I've got you and Chris, Leon, Rebecca. Jill's always been like a sister. Not to mention the Burtons. Kathy and Barry kind of became like, surrogate parents after mine passed." She smiled, thinking of the summers spent at the Burton Residence. Despite the age difference, she'd grown quite close with Moira. "I miss my parents, every day. But there are so many people in my life that are dear to me."

Steve smiled softly. He liked hearing Claire talk about her background and her life before all of this happened. Really, he just liked listening to Claire talk. He liked her voice and the inflections she placed on her words.

The timer she'd set on the stove made a soft ding and she opened the oven, checking on the asparagus. She closed the oven again and added a few more minutes to the timer.

"How do you like your steak?"

Steve cocked an eyebrow. "How do you like yours?"

"Well, when I was younger I liked them rare." She mused, flipping the steaks over again. "These days I don't think I could handle anything less than medium." She took a large dollop of her garlic butter mixture, dropping it down on the center of each steak. It sizzled as it dripped down into the hot pan. "Is that alright with you?"

"Honestly I'm just excited for steak." Steve grinned. It had been so long he would've been happy with a mediocre chain restaurant steak. "And I trust you."

Claire plated dinner and served Steve his plate. He grinned at her as she did, admiring the job she'd done with the food.

"This looks great, Claire. Thank you."

"Of course." She ruffled his hair lightly and took one of the seats beside him. "There's plenty of asparagus left, if you're still hungry after that."

Steve picked up his knife and fork. It felt good to eat at an actual table instead of balancing his plate precariously on his knee. He cut into the steak, watching a small stream of garlic butter trickle down. He shoved too large of a bite into his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully before giving a soft sound of approval.

Claire laughed, cutting a small piece off her own steak to try. It was good – cooked almost the entire way through without being dry. There was a part of her that missed the steaks rare and on the bloody side but she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to go back to that.

"Not bad, huh?" She smiled.

"Y'such a good cook, Claire." He grinned.

After dinner, Claire cleared the dishes. She saved the leftovers in the fridge as she had for breakfast. She tossed the dishes in the sink for later. She'd deal with them in the morning.

Steve sighed, patting his stomach. He was so full he felt sleepy.

"No room for dessert?" Claire asked innocently. "I've got some cheesecake here that Chris brought yesterday…"

Steve perked up at the idea of dessert. He'd been nearly ecstatic on Rockfort when he'd come across an actually stocked vending machine only to find no money in his pocket. He missed a lot of things while he was locked up in that prison, but sweets were towards the top of that list.

"I've got room." He assured her. His face lit up as she plated two pieces of cheesecake to share. One 'death by chocolate', as the package said and the other a run of the mill strawberry.

"Which one do you want?" He asked, looking between the two pieces in front of him as Claire handed him a clean spoon.

"I thought we could share both."

Steve couldn't help but grin again. "You have the best ideas."

She laughed, sinking her spoon into the slimmest part of the chocolate piece. She brought it to her mouth, savoring the creaminess. She made a soft noise, not unlike a groan.

The boy wet his lips, digging into the strawberry. His eyes flicked into the back of his head for a moment. The syrup drizzled on the top was just a little tangy, mingling with the sweetness of the cream cheese.

Claire giggled softly, dipping her spoon back into the chocolate slice.

"Taste this one." She smiled, cupping her hand underneath the spoon as she lifted it to Steve's mouth. He felt his face flush as he tasted. He felt his stomach flutter and he had a moment where wished Claire had been feeding him the last few days.

"Oh, that one's good too." Steve's tongue darted out over his bottom lip.

They savored each other's company and dessert until the plate was clean. Claire leaned back into her chair with a sigh.

"I'm too full."

"Me too." Steve agreed, resting a hand on his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he had stuffed himself like that. He tried to stifle a yawn but failed.

"Sleepy?"

"Yeah." He admitted. He'd exhausted more energy than he'd care to admit between exploring the house and taking a long shower. The last dose of herbs she'd given him sometime around noon had entirely worn off, leaving his body a bit sore after all of the excitement. It felt nice, if he were telling the truth.

"It is getting late." Claire peered at the time on the stove as she dropped the last dish in the sink. Almost Midnight.

Steve nuzzled into his sheets. He was genuinely happy for the first time in a very long time. He was asleep before he knew it, drifting off listening to Claire tell a story about her brother.

Claire happily climbed into bed after Steve fell asleep. She was emotionally drained – the highs of the day had wiped her out. She meant to take the pills Rebecca had given her, really. But as she found herself dozing off naturally, she decided one night without them wouldn't hurt.

She jolted awake in bed, eyes adjusting to the pitch black room. A thin layer of sweat clung to her brow. She didn't know what time it was, but it was still dark outside.

"So much for sleep." She murmured into the air. She sighed, resigning herself to have to lay there for the rest of the night. Taking one of the sleeping pills now seemed like a waste – Steve would likely be awake in a few hours and she didn't want to leave him without help. Those pills undoubtedly knocked her out for a full eight hours or more. As she shifted positions, she swore she saw a faint red glow coming from the corner of her room.

She frowned and squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if she were imagining it. She swallowed hard, slowly turning her head towards the doorway and made out a tall figure standing in front of her door watching her sleep. The figure was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Steve?"

A low laugh, followed by the sounds of knuckles popping lightly. Claire's blood ran cold as she outline take a few steps toward her. Broad shoulders clad in black leather, slow and deliberate steps. She could smell his cologne from here – Albert Wesker.

She tried to scramble to her feet to arm herself, but her limbs wouldn't co-operate. They were heavy, like she'd been sedated with something. She could do nothing but watch him walk slowly towards her with that smirk plastered across his face.

"I tracked Steve here. With Alexia gone, he carries the last trace of T-Veronica in his body." Wesker loomed over her, as though he stood ten feet tall. His features were twisted as he sneered down at her, unable to move in her bed. He wrapped a gloved hand around her throat, the leather rough against her skin. He applied steady pressure to her windpipe. "A two for one special, it seems."

She gasped and spluttered, her eyes going wide as she struggled to breathe. She couldn't draw in breath, couldn't make any noise with the tyrant's heavy hand pressed against her windpipe. Black fringed her vision and the last thing she saw before succumbing to the darkness was Wesker's smug face.

She woke up on the ground, gasping for air. Her throat seemed to hurt, as though he had actually been in her room. She didn't even realize she was crying until a sob ripped itself from her mouth.

There was a quiet knock on the other side of her door. She clasped her hands over her mouth as another sob wracked her shoulders.

"Claire?" Came the voice from the other side of the door.

"St-eve?"

Steve took that as permission to push the door open, frowning when he found Claire on the floor beside her bed. He'd been woken up by a crash followed by a wail and had thought she'd hurt herself.

"Are you okay?" He asked, carefully limping over with one crutch tucked under his arm.

"Y-yeah." She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. She tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. Steve was fine. She was fine, too. But the tears didn't stop coming.

Steve joined her on the floor, careful to not put weight on his bad knee. He wrapped his arms around her tight, pulling her against his chest.

"Shhhhhh, shh. It's okay. It's okay." He stroked her back gently as she buried her face into his shirt. "It's okay Claire."

It took her much longer than she would like to admit before she could calm down; her sobs turning into whimpers, then sniffles and slowly dissipating. When she finally drew away from Steve, there were two distinct wet spots on his t-shirt from her tears.

He brushed the fringe of her bangs out of her face, eyes clearly showing his worry.

"Did you hurt yourself?" He murmured. She shook her head at first but then touched the swollen spot she'd caught on the way out of bed.

"A - little. I think…I hit my head." She sniffled again.

"Does it hurt?"

"I didn't mean to wake you." She wet her lips, rubbing at her face. She was embarrassed. She hated looking weak, feeling weak.

"I heard y'crying. I called your name but you didn't answer."

"I'm sorry." She repeated again, trying to disperse the guilt she felt for waking him up. "….I had a bad dream." She admitted. It felt ridiculous to say out loud, but that's all that it was. A bad dream.

Steve frowned. "A nightmare?"

"Y-yeah. I didn't… take the sleeping pill Rebecca gave me last night." Another sniffle. "I'm sorry." Her voice waivered slightly.

Steve wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her close. He wondered how many times she'd woken up like this, crying so hard she couldn't breathe. He felt guilty – she'd been devoting all of her time and energy to taking care of him and he didn't even consider she'd been barely holding it together.

"It's okay, Claire. I'm here." He placed a gentle kiss on her temple. "I've got you."