Her.

Claire woke up to shaking and the sound of metal scraping together. Moving on reflex, she stood up to survey the situation. Steve's convulsing body was now restrained to the bed at the elbows and knees, which explained why she hadn't been moved. His blooded screams filled the room.

"Steve!?" She backed up and then remembered the armed soldiers.

"What happened!?" She called to the nearest one, his gun raised and aimed.

"Doctor came in a while back," he kept his voice calm despite everything. "Told us that they'd be giving him new drugs."

"What!?"

An older soldier, most likely their leader, added: "You can ask her more later," his tone lighter, no doubt from experience. "She said this might happen."

Claire looked over to Steve, his shoulders weak from forceful breaths. Reptilian pupils targeted her, but their helplessness betrayed the humanity that still lie within.

"She told us that, if everything goes well, this will pass without a transformation," the leader continued. "We were instructed only to act if he turns, so please do not worry."

She felt completely helpless. "Hold on, Steve," she urged in a broken voice. The desire to hold him welled up within her: to do anything to lessen his pain.

Claire didn't move. Steve's strength became astronomical when transforming, so being within arm's reach when he wasn't in control was insurmountably dangerous. She got carried away earlier, losing rationality to emotion, and was saved only by Steve pushing her away. The same action couldn't be counted on twice.

His voice became more and more strained, curving around growing canines. The force with which he shook caused the bed to violently hit the wall, soon leaving a dent. His eyes would strain closed, but almost instantly forcibly open as renewed shouts gave outlet to his torment. His arms would reach and flex without direction, ending balled and tearing into the bedding.

His struggle made Claire feel utterly hopeless.

Claire barely registered the new person entering the room: a woman in white.

"Are you the doctor?" Claire accused. "Why did you change his medication?"

The doctor looked at the poor, suffering boy, simply shaking her head. "After doing tests, there were some suggested changes," she glanced at Claire. "The new formula should be more consistent in the long-run, but seems to be taking time for it to acclimate to."

"Him," she almost hissed.

The doctor looked away. "Him. Excuse me," her tone stagnated. "He hasn't transformed fully, so it seems to be working as predicted so far," she couldn't hide her pride.

Claire grit her teeth. If it really is better for him in the long-run… Her rationalization fell to pieces after looking at Steve's pleading eyes. Refusing to look away, she placed a hand on his forehead, stroking him as gently as she could against his movements.

The doctor and soldiers looked startled, but calmed after seeing the effect. Steve was thrashing less, either out of concern for Claire or reassurance from her actions.

She had been watching the range of his movements, careful not to enter them, and while still not the safest option, she felt worse doing nothing.

Several minutes later, Steve quieted. He fell unconscious again, his teeth shrinking and muscles relaxing. Claire didn't remove her hand as she faced the doctor.

"How is this better?"

"The previous drug required a higher dosage, no doubt from him becoming more and more tolerant," the doctor's monotone resumed. "Eventually, it wasn't going to be effective at all."

Claire nodded, urging for more.

The doctor understood. "This new stuff is much more effective at lower doses," her tone became higher. "He won't even need a constant supply." Genuine excitement danced off of her words now. "Just a daily injection of this should keep transformations at bay."

A pause. "You've figured out the triggers for transformations?" Claire asked, hopeful.

"No doubt not all of them," the doctor sighed. "But, we do know that the majority are triggered either by withdrawal from the previous drug, or instigated by another we found," she supplied. "They were controlled," she stared cold into Claire's eyes.

"He was being controlled…" Claire's words diminished to a whisper, despite herself. Were they trying to turn him into a new breed of super soldier? She shook off the unpleasant thoughts.

"We will of course need to watch him further," she smiled. "Just to be safe."

Claire shivered. She is almost exactly like the scientist who did this. The doctor seemed to enjoy this part of her job a little too much for Claire's liking.

She glanced at Steve, his face at peace for the moment, then returned a resolute gaze to the doctor. "As long as the previous plan is still doable."

The doctor smiled even wider. "Oh, but of course it is."

Claire couldn't shake the speck of dread in an otherwise clean glass of water. This really will be a messy process.

—-

That afternoon, Steve hadn't regained consciousness. Claire had wanted to stay near him, but was informed of a phone call from her boss. She was higher in the ranks of her organization, but even she had people to answer to. Claire nodded and stroked Steve's hair before leaving the room.

She retreated to a corner of the hall where she picked up the phone. "Redfield," the voice emitted, locking their dynamic in place.

"Sir," Claire confirmed.

"I've received reports of your behavior during the recent rescue mission." No discernible emotion from the words could be detected, unless they had been lost during the conversion process.

Claire didn't speak, sure that he would soon tell her his appraisal.

"You ignored safety regulations and touched one of the subjects, putting both you and everyone else at risk," he breathed. "You knew," he didn't slow. "You knew that suits were to be utilized before any specimen contact."

Claire didn't respond.

"And then," he asserted, red coloring his tone. "You reprimanded the soldiers for doing their duty."

A pause. Claire kept listening.

"Listen, Redfield," the voice sighed. "I am aware that you had a personal connection with one of the subjects, which has clearly affected your ability to remain impartial and rational."

Claire bit her lip, angry that she couldn't fight back. He was right.

"You've been an indispensable member for years now, and we of course won't get rid of you over this, but," Her breath caught in anticipation. "We might have to rethink our previous arrangement for him."

"What?" Claire let out. "No!" She cried. "Sir—"

"Wait," the voice boomed. "I haven't said that we will yet. I'm merely calling your attention to recent actions."

Claire practically tripped over her words. "I can be better, sir, it—it won't happen again," she pleaded. "I—"

The voice chuckled. "Listen to yourself. Where is your head?"

Claire was stunned into silence, reflecting on just how different she had been and still was acting. "I apologize, sir," she breathed, calmer now. "Please, just give me a chance to be more mindful."

Long seconds passed. "Alright," the voice offered. "But, if anything like this happens again, it will be obvious that being around you is not within his best interest…"

"I understand," Claire echoed.

"See that you do." A click.

Claire put down the phone, leaving her hand on it as she pondered how best to move forward.

I am the best thing for him.