Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I think I've taken a bit of a risk with the ending of this chapter, and I'm sure a lot of you will hate it, but hey, any constructive comments are always appreciated!!!

Chapter 14 The Noose

The soft blue glow of a large computer monitor lit a small portion of an otherwise dark room. All was quiet except for the furious typing of a computer keyboard and the rhythmic tapping of a foot against a hard concrete floor. There was a gentle rap on the door and the typing stopped.

"Enter.'' an emotionless masculine voice commanded.

A blast of bright artificial light which emanated from a rectangular hole that appeared on one side of the darkened room suddenly revealed the dour grey walls. Now the room was bathed in light, a highly polished stainless steel desk, stretching from one side of the room to the other, became visible. Situated in the middle of the desk was the massive computer monitor that was formerly the only source of light in the room, in addition to a keyboard and small communications console. The desk was otherwise devoid of any personal artefacts.

"Wesker, sir.'' a grey-haired, middle-aged man wearing a white lab coat spoke furtively as he shuffled into the room. He stopped about a metre in front of the desk and twitched, visibly uncomfortable under the glare of the dark grey-suited man sat behind the computer screen. Small beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. "You told me to inform you when they hit the Exley facility. It was about one hour ago.''

With his elbows planted on the table, Albert Wesker leaned forward and pressed his hands together, interlocking his black gloved fingers. "Excellent. It look's like the S.T.A.R.S are upping their pace.''

''Yes sir. The organisation's Alaska, Beckton and Exley labs, as well as the Methuselah, have all been compromised by the S.T.A.R.S in the past month. If they follow this pattern, they should hit the Barclay facility next and…''

"…and the organisation will barely be able to function.'' Wesker finished the other man's sentence. ''The shareholders will be displeased. I'm sure they are starting to understand the ramifications of not accepting my offer.'' The corners of his mouth upturned slightly into a self-satisfied grin. "And were the soldiers deployed?''

"Yes, a squad of ten. Early reports suggest that the S.T.A.R.S dealt with them quite efficiently though. They used incendiary grenades.''

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence as the grey haired man shifted his stance.

"Then we need to up the dosage.''

"But the side effects if we do...''

"That was not a suggestion.'' Wesker interrupted coldly, his face like stone. "What use are they if they are susceptible to fire? Increase the dosage by twenty five percent…no, make that fifty percent.''

"They're already unstable, mentally and physically.'' the other man pleaded. "Who knows what would happen if their dosage was increased. They went crazy at Exley and killed a lot of the staff who had surrendered. The same thing happened at Alaska and Beckton if you remember.''

"That does sound interesting. I want analysis of their combat data to be your priority. Pay particular attention to their brain activity and cellular reproduction rates. I want to know exactly how that virus is working.''

The older man didn't seem to heed Wesker's request. He looked down towards the floor and began to mumble. "They didn't just kill them though. It was almost ritualistic, the way they eviscerated and arranged the bodies. I've heard that some of the victims took a while to die from their wounds…''

Wesker was aware of the scientist's malaise. "Do not grieve for the loss of your colleagues Dr Ross, in fact you should be rejoicing. If you were still with the organisation, you would be lying there next to them.''

Dr Ross looked at Wesker with horror.

"Your defection was an intelligent choice, particularly as you have a family." Wesker almost sneered.

Dr Ross took a deep breath. He had only been working for Albert Wesker a couple of months, but already he realised every conversation with his new employer was shrouded in barely-veiled threats and intimidation. It was one of the many reasons that drove him to leave his previous research post. The situation had always been difficult there. The genetic weapons research he was involved in was certainly illegal, but it was funded by very wealthy, very powerful men who were determined to protect their investments. He was rewarded handsomely, but things deteriorated rapidly when the head of genetic research was caught trying to defect to a rival company. Despite the organisation's best efforts to eliminate her, she surprised everyone and managed to escape into the custody of the S.T.A.R.S.

After the chief geneticists escape, it was as though no one left was trusted. He was constantly under surveillance, both at work and in his personal time with his family. He was also sure he was also under surveillance by the authorities. He knew he would go to prison for some of the things he had been involved in, and perhaps giving himself up in order to testify against the organisation was the only way to get out of it. However, these choices are not so simple when you have a family to consider. He could go to prison, but what would become of his wife and teenaged children?

At first, Albert Wesker seemed to offer him a way out. He promised him a new identity with a well paid job and access to the finest research facilities with no boundaries for the type of research he could perform. Wesker also unconditionally guaranteed the safety of his family. The work was challenging and like so many other scientists he had worked with, it was his love of genetics and his desire to push the limits of human understanding that made him ignorant of the moral implications of his research. Wesker had charged Ross with completing the work of his former colleague Dr Elisabeth Badley who, just over seven years ago while doing research for her PhD, had successfully devised a way to spontaneously repair and regenerate human cells. Despite her young age, she was a formidable scientist and probably one of the best, if not the best, in her field. She had probably achieved more in a few years than most would achieve in a lifetime. Dr Ross vividly remembered her saying once that 'rules do not apply to people who are trying to change the world'. It was perhaps her inability to play by the rules that led to the closure of her US military research department. It may also have been the reason she had chosen to defect from the organisation, but he never knew for sure.

Dr Ross had never spoken to Elisabeth Badley about anything other than work; in fact, he remembered clearly that she didn't seem to have the capacity for small talk or the desire to learn anything about her co-workers. If he was honest, he was very much intimidated by her when they worked together, even though she was at least twenty years his junior. Even now, while trying desperately to complete her research, he was still intimidated by her even though she was not here, such was the enormity of his task. Unfortunately, Dr Ross had only been able to bring remnants of Elisabeth Badley's research to Wesker. She had been careful in not committing all of her secrets to pen or computer, for she correctly realised that she was only worth as much as other people didn't know.

"I think that it's only a matter of time before they stop following orders completely. Every time the gene is activated, every time they get injured, they seem to suffer severe mental degradation. It's almost like they don't understand the difference between right and wrong.''

"But they are soldiers, Dr Ross. Soldiers do not need to comprehend the difference between right and wrong. They only need to follow orders."

"But that's just it. It's almost like emotionally, they revert to a child-like state. They're like children who torture animals – they have no emotional connection with living things. They don't understand the consequences of their actions. They find it…entertaining."

"I trust the Alaska site has been cleansed?'' Wesker asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"Erm, yes. There's a crater a hundred metres across. To the general public, it will just look like a gas explosion.''

''Did they find the B.O.W?''

"Yes sir, they did. It was destroyed."

Wesker smiled coldly and leaned back in his chair. "Well, it looks like the S.T.A.R.S's new little spy is earning her keep. Was Dr Badley involved in the mission?"

"Err, yes sir. It would appear that they have accepted her into their team.''

"So quickly?'' Wesker sounded a little surprised. He leaned back in his chair, in deep thought.

"She's the only one who understands Lazarus; she's the only one who knows how to offset the mutation and control the soldiers. Without her…I've searched through her files and there must be something missing. Something important that makes the virus controllable, predictable. I don't think I can work it out." Dr Ross's voice trailed off.

"Are you sure she perfected the virus? I was assured that it was still in the experimental stage"

"Almost certainly, yes. The test subject at the organisation's lab – she appeared to have, continues to have, no obvious side affects other than acute memory loss, according to our source anyway. But I don't understand why. I've used the same strain of the virus and…well, the results were different."

"As Dr Badley is currently unavailable, I suggest you find out what is missing otherwise you will be of no more use to me." Wesker's harsh tone silenced Dr Ross, who just stared at him, open-mouthed.

Dr Ross nodded, realising that the conversation was now over. He turned and made for the exit as Wesker changed his focus to the computer screen in front of him. He began to type on the keyboard and a number of windows opened on the screen, each displaying lines of text accompanied by black and white photographs. He enlarged one of the windows to reveal official photographs of Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield in their S.T.A.R.S uniforms circa 1998.

"They may have resurrected you once…'' Wesker said, tapping the image on the screen with his index finger. "…but I wouldn't count on it happening again."

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Claire Redfield was sat hunched on a stool by the large stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen, eating a bowl of pasta. In between mouthfuls, she took large gulps of milk from a large frosted glass beaker sat on a plastic placemat next to her bowl. She swallowed quickly and loudly, barely tasting the food.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're enjoying that. You never used to enjoy anything I fixed for you." Her brother Chris's tone was playful, although this couldn't mask the concerned look on his face. He was sitting on a stool directly opposite Claire with an untouched bowl of pasta in front of him and a stainless steel fork lying idly next to the bowl. Claire barely acknowledged his presence, concentrating only on the food in front of her.

"It's almost like old times isn't it, when you used to come back from college and…"

"I'll see you later." Claire interrupted as she swallowed the last mouthful and threw the fork down in the now-empty bowl. She picked up the half-filled glass of milk and headed for the door.

"Where are you going? I thought we could have a chat."

"About what?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, maybe we can talk about the last mission, it was a pretty tough one…''

"Chris, there are things I have to do, it's late and I'm tired. I'm going to the operations room to do my mission report and then I'm going to sleep.'' she said curtly, stunning Chris into silence. "You'll have to find someone else to talk to."

For the last four weeks, Chris had gone out of his way to improve the relationship with his sister. After the events of the Methuselah mission, Leon Kennedy's death and subsequent revival using the Lazarus virus, Claire had barely been able to tolerate being in the same room as her brother. Chris was furious that she had used the virus on Leon while not knowing what the effects might have been. After everything they had seen, how could she be so reckless? It was only then that he realised just how close she had become to Leon. He scolded himself, thinking that he should have known. Claire used to tell him everything but in the last six months, whenever she had gone to speak to him, he only half-listened as he was always concentrating on some mission or piece of intelligence.

Claire was the most important person in Chris's life – she always had been – but she had drifted away and he didn't know how to get her back. As the days after the Methuselah mission passed, he began to reason that the situation was partially his fault. If he knew then how much she cared for Leon, he could have foreseen what she was about to do, and maybe he could have prevented it. But then Leon would still be dead. Chris was prepared to kill his colleague, his good friend, and maybe if Claire didn't stand between them that day he would have done so. He had done it before, back in the Spencer Mansion all those years ago when members of the S.T.A.R.S Alpha Team had become infected with the T-Virus and turned into the kind of mindless, ravenous creatures that you only meet in your nightmares. He swore that he would do everything he could to stop that happening to any of his team again. Claire never saw Leon's reanimated corpse as a threat. She was angry that Chris couldn't see that the man she loved had come back to her. Maybe he didn't want her to be happy. Maybe he didn't want her to be happy because he wanted someone to share his own unhappiness? She felt that he couldn't see her any more, all he saw was a soldier, another tool in his quest to bring down his nemesis, Albert Wesker.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Chris's tone of voice stopped Claire in her tracks.

She turned to face him.

"What? Keep what up?" she retorted, trying to act oblivious. This seemed to irritate him. Chris didn't like to play games.

"This silent treatment. It's been weeks. Why don't you just get it out of your system, shout at me, hit me, do whatever you need to do, but why can't you just move on?"

"Oh, so it's that easy is it? To sit down and talk out all of our problems, get them out in the open?'' She laughed sarcastically. "Don't make me laugh. How many times in the last six months have you sat down and talked to me?"

"This isn't about me, this is about you!" exasperated, he threw his arms in the air. He stood up and began to walk around the table towards Claire.

"You'll never understand will you Chris?" she said, steadying her voice. "It's always been about you."

"Claire, I'm really trying here. If you don't tell me what I have to do..."

"I shouldn't have to tell you."

"This is about Leon, right? You're still angry with me."

"You were going to kill him!''

"I didn't knew who, or what, was going to get up from that bed. Listen, we don't understand how, or why, that virus works. We don't know what's going to happen to Leon. There may be side effects we don't know about yet. He could still be dangerous."

"I heard you talking with Elisabeth in the corridor. You knew you could have saved him but you didn't. You chose to let him die."

"I couldn't be sure…"

"What if it was me, lying there dead? Would you have used Lazarus on me?"

"I don't…"

"Would you?" she shouted. "It's a simple question. Yes or no. Would you have tried to bring me back?"

Chris stared at her and slowly moved his head side to side. "I don't know..." he murmured. "…and I hope that I never do."

Claire's bottom lip quivered. "Then I guess that's the difference between you and me." She took a step closer to her brother so that she was less than a metre in front of him. "I would do anything to keep you. Anything. Right or wrong. I've lost too many people this past few years, and I'm damned if I'm going to lose anyone else, especially when I have the means to save them."

"You remember what happened to Jimmy McGarver, right? He had no control over himself. And those 'supersoldiers' that seem to appear everywhere we go right now? Do you really want that for Leon?"

"Then why didn't you kill Jill when she was infected? She still could be. Why don't you go down to her room and put her out of her misery?"

"Don't change the subject. Jill's fine and you know it. Rebecca's done every test there is, and Jill's perfectly normal."

"Then why can't Leon be fine?" Claire snapped. "Rebecca's done all the same tests on him, and she says he's normal too."

"But there's a difference Claire."

"What? What's so different?"

"Leon was dead. He was dead. When you're dead, you're dead. There's no coming back. That guy – he may look like Leon, sound like him, smell like him – but it can't be him because I saw him die. That's why I don't want you to be around him. Not until I'm sure that…"

"So that's it. It's because of my feelings for him."

"You've lost me Claire."

"You're using this as an excuse to stop your little sister getting it on with a guy that you don't approve of. Pathetic. I'm not eighteen anymore Chris. I don't need you to protect me."

"That's not what this is about, and you know it."

"Well, don't worry Chris. Leon hates me now, so there's no chance of your little sister walking into the sunset with one of the undead. From now on, I'm going to be just like you - cold and alone. So you won't have to worry about me anymore."

"Claire, this is ridiculous. Why don't you calm down and give me a chance to explain. I've only ever wanted the best for this team, for you, and it's my job to keep you all..."

"This conversation is over. Like I said, I have a lot to do and I'm tired." She turned angrily and reached for the kitchen door handle.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. About everything." Chris said quietly.

Claire stopped for a moment, her hand in mid-air. She had never heard him sound so sincere. For that moment, she wanted to turn around and hug him. She wanted to go back to the way things were, before 1998, before all this horror was unleashed on the world. But she wasn't that that young, naïve girl anymore. There are some things that once you have seen them, you can never go back to the way things were before. And there are some things that once said, can never be taken back.

Claire left the kitchen. As the door swung shut behind her, Chris collapsed back down on the stool and held his head in his hands.

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"It's closer, but it's still not quite right." Dr Elisabeth Badley looked up from the binocular microscope towards Rebecca. "It starts to work, but somehow it breaks down. I think the mutation in Wesker's D.N.A has a kind of self defence mechanism."

"It wants to live." Rebecca replied.

"It's genius. It can respond to almost any threat." Elisabeth smiled as she spoke, her eyes widening. She was always in awe of the genetic research performed by Wesker and his cohorts. They always seemed so fearless. That is how progress is made she thought.

"How long before it breaks down?" Rebecca asked, running her hand through her soft red hair.

"Three minutes. Maximum."

"That's too small a window of opportunity. We need longer."

"I know Rebecca, but I'm running out of ideas here."

Rebecca Chambers stood up from the chair sat by the small desk that was pushed against the far wall in her lab. Other than Elisabeth and herself, the S.T.A.R.S medical wing was deserted, and every noise they made echoed down the tiled corridors. She walked around the room, her arms crossed, in deep thought.

Elisabeth sat back in her chair, stretched her arms and yawned loudly. She glanced across at the large clock on the wall. It was 2 AM.

"Wow, we've been in here for over eighteen hours. No wonder I feel so tired."

There was no response from the other woman, who still in deep thought. Elisabeth swung her chair around so that she was now facing Rebecca.

"So, what were Leon Kennedy's latest test results?"

Rebecca stopped dead and looked up.

"Why are you so interested?"

"I just wondered, that's all. If I'm honest, I suppose you could say that I'm curious."

"Physically, Leon's doing okay."

"I've heard he's doing more than okay."

"Well, his metabolism is slightly higher than normal, he's fit and strong – he could run a marathon if he wanted to without any problems. It's almost like nothing ever happened."

"What else?"

"What do you mean, what else? There is nothing else."

"You said physically he's okay, what else?"

"I don't think I should be discussing this with you."

"Listen, if there are any problems, then maybe I'm the person who should know about it. I mean, I designed it, it only worked on Leon because of me, because of the changes I made to the master Lazarus samples here, in the lab. If there are any problems, I may be able to fix them."

"Let's just say that he's having a little trouble reconciling the fact that he was dead and is now alive."

"He'll get over it. He's got a second chance. That's more than most people get in life."

"Yes, but at what cost?"

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"The rest of the S.T.A.R.S don't really trust him anymore. Leon told me they look down at the floor when they pass him in the corridor. They dart into rooms when they see him walking towards them, just so they don't have to talk. No one wants to go on a mission with him."

"Well that's just ridiculous. Leon is better than he ever was. He's…perfect now."

"Maybe so, but perfection comes at a price. We just don't know what that price is yet."

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Claire was replaying the argument with Chris in her head as she walked down the corridor towards the operation room. It was a shame that their first conversation in nearly a month did nothing to ease the tension between them. She had finally said want she had wanted to say to Chris, but she didn't feel any better for it. In fact, she felt worse. Just like her brother, she was stubborn and had a tendency to say exactly was on her mind, often without thinking of the consequences. She was aware that the tension between them was felt across the team and it was beginning to make things awkward. It was only when she reached the door for the operations room that she realised how difficult it must have been for Chris to take the initiative and try talk to her, and to try and clear the air between them. Perhaps that was the only chance they would get. She missed him.

She pushed the thoughts of Chris to the back of her mind when she entered the operations room and noticed Jill sat cross-legged at a computer terminal. Her hair was messy and there was a partially-eaten sandwich sat on the desk in front of her. Jill was staring intently at the computer screen and didn't notice Claire as she walked across and stood behind her.

"Jill, what are doing in here at this time?"

Slightly startled, Jill swivelled the chair around so she could face Claire. "Hey Claire."

Claire took a swig from the glass of milk she was still carrying. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

Jill nodded. "I don't enjoy sleeping much right now. Besides, I wanted to make sure you guys got back okay."

"Bad dreams?"

Jill shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I can't tell if they're bad dreams or memories."

Claire then sat the glass down on the desk and turned to look at the computer monitor. "What are you looking at? Is this Chris's report on the Mexico incident?"

Jill was pleased to change the subject. "You know that I've spent the last few weeks looking for a relationship between the Mexico incident back in 2002 and the Methuselah?"

"Well good luck. I tried to find a relationship, but there's just too much information, and so much has happened recently that…well, it didn't seem so important."

"I understand, but I think I've found something. You were the one that noticed that there are huge similarities between what Chris saw in Mexico and what you've been seeing recently in these new research laboratories."

"You mean that particularly twisted way people are being killed?" Claire shuddered at the thought of what she had just seen on the latest mission. It was like the other labs - the bodies of scientists, security guards and administration staff had been decapitated and purposefully arranged in a number of locations around the complex. It was no coincidence that the S.T.A.R.S had encountered the supersoldiers again. Claire reasoned that they must have been the ones responsible.

"Yes. Up until now, every bioweapon we've encountered has been a violent, mindless killer. No method, just chaos. Yet there was something different about Mexico, it was the first time there seemed to be a method to the madness. The way the bodies were desecrated and arranged…that took time, and organisation. It certainly couldn't have been done by one person."

"But what I don't understand is why? Why pick on a small border town in the middle of nowhere? There's no laboratory there, not that we know of anyway. It's just too random."

"Maybe it was test."

"Okay, but of what?"

"I think Mexico was an early version of Lazarus."

"Lazarus? So you think she was responsible for the Mexico incident?"

"I don't know if she was personally responsible, but I'm certain it was Lazarus. There's no other explanation. We've seen nothing else like it."

"She does seem to know an awful lot about it. Was she working with the organisation then?"

Jill began to type on the keyboard and a small window appeared on the computer screen. A photograph of Elisabeth Badley appeared at the top of a several pages of text detailing her personal history. "No. According to her file, she was still with the military."

"So someone on the military base stole it?"

"It's a possibility. She said she developed the virus while working at the Alaska military research base. Maybe someone got greedy. Military salaries aren't that great. We should know."

"This stinks of Wesker." Claire said through gritted teeth.

"Maybe. But there's another piece to this puzzle that I can't figure out."

"The diplomat."

"Yes. For a start, why was he left alive?"

"I thought he was dead?"

"Apparently he killed himself in custody. He blew his brains out in an interrogation room. Seems that whatever he saw in that village drove him to it."

"Somebody was making a point…" Claire's voice trailed off, while Jill nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. There's a reason he was singled out. There was a reason he was made to watch those people be tortured and murdered, and there was a reason he was left alive to talk about it. For a while at least."

"What?"

"Chris doesn't think he killed himself. He said there was no way he could have stolen that gun while in custody, mentally he was a mess."

"So someone killed him?"

"Probably, but that someone would have had to infiltrate a Special Forces base. There aren't many people out there who can do that."

"It looks like he got involved with the wrong people…"

"Maybe, but unfortunately, the diplomat's file has been erased, and all that exists is basic data. However, I do know that he came from a very prestigious family and he had a future in the senate laid out for him. This guy was going places. I think if we can find out why his file was erased, we're going to find out who's been running the show."

"We already know it's Wesker – he's always involved."

"Oh, I have no doubt he's involved, but I just have this feeling that there's someone else. Someone close. And that they're using us. Anyway…" Jill switched off the computer monitor and slapped her knees. "I know you're all back safe, so I'm off to bed. You should get some rest too."

"Yeah. I thought I'd write up my mission report first."

"You avoiding going to sleep too?"

Claire looked at Jill, confused.

"I take it things are still bad between you and Chris?"

Claire looked down and sighed. "We just had an argument."

"Well, an argument is better than the one syllable responses you guys have perfected this past few weeks..."

Claire smiled. "Maybe. I just don't know how to get past this." Claire tensed. "Whenever I look at him – I just…oh, I don't know. Maybe we just need some time apart."

"You've got to sort this out Claire. He's your brother. He would never do anything to hurt you, not on purpose. I know that when he thinks he's doing things for your own good, he sometimes ends up pissing you off, but he means well. He's a good man.''

Claire rolled her eyes.

"He was worried – rightfully so – that Leon had come back different. And before you say anything, it was the same with me too. You didn't think those guards were posted outside my door to protect me from anyone did you? They were there to protect you from me, should the need have arisen."

"But he was going to kill him. For a minute, I thought he was going to shoot me too…"

"Now you can't believe that. You're the one person he cares about most in this world. He would never do anything to hurt you."

"But you're alright Jill. You look good, you feel good – you're practically back to your old self."

"Maybe so, but just like Chris said, we don't really know all that there is to know about the Lazarus virus yet. All we know is what Elisabeth Badley has told us. I couldn't tell you if she was telling us everything or not."

"Do you think she's hiding something from us?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. But what I do know, is that if anything does happen to me, if I do change, you'll do what has to be done."

"Don't speak like that."

"We have to be realistic Claire."

"I understand Jill." Claire said sadly.

There was a long silence.

"He won't talk to me."

"Leon?"

Claire nodded. "He hasn't really spoken to me since…well, since after the Methuselah mission. Well, that's not entirely true I suppose. He says hello, good morning, good night – always polite. He speaks to me, but he doesn't say anything to me anymore. I don't know what to do. I've tried to talk to him alone, but there is always something – he has to talk to Chris or he has to be checked over again by Rebecca. He's avoiding me."

"I think I know how he's feeling – in a way anyway.''

"Then I wish you'd tell me because I just don't understand him now."

"When I woke up in the medical wing here, I had no idea what had happened. To me, it felt like I'd had a long, heavy sleep. But after I found out that I had been exposed to that virus, I don't quite know how to say it…I just felt different. Cold. I knew how I should feel about people. But it was almost like those feelings belonged to someone else. It was like waking up with an identity that wasn't mine. Everything I said, every I did, it was almost automatic, it was what I knew Jill Valentine would say or do."

"What about now?"

"Those feelings are still there, somewhere, but being around you all again…well, it quickly made me remember who I am."

Claire smiled at Jill, but her face quickly fell. "He hates me, for what I did."

"Did he say that?''

"No but…"

"Maybe he doesn't agree with what you did, but I'm sure he understands why you did it."

"I don't think he does, otherwise why is he ignoring me? He thinks that I should have let him die, that I should have let Chris kill him. I don't know what's worse Jill…" A single tear formed in Claire's left eye. "…watching the man you love die, or not being able to be with him while he's alive."

"Oh Claire…"

"I tried so hard not to let myself feel anything for him because I knew no good could come of it. Well, I was right to think that. I'm so angry with myself for letting this happen."

"Well, you can't change what's happened. Not now." Jill replied.

"We can't have relationships. We're all going to be alone. We're going to die alone." Claire replied bitterly.

"Oh, don't be so melodramtic Claire! Listen, I don't know what to do, I haven't got any advice to give you because I can't even pretend to know how you're feeling, but I do have a feeling things are going to be okay."

"Why?"

"I don't know why, I just do. We've got through worse before."

"I wish I shared your optimism Jill. I really do."

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Leon Kennedy was running on a treadmill in the S.T.A.R.S gym while loud music reverberated off the mirrored walls. He stared hard at himself in the mirrors as he ran. He was looking for something different in the mirror, something tangibly unfamiliar. On the outside, he looked the same as he always did – fairly tall with a strong athletic physique, short blonde hair and blue eyes. The only oddities were the tiny pink flecks in his brilliant blue irises, although these were becoming fewer as each day passed.

Leon's attention was diverted to the gym door that he saw opening slowly in the mirror. He was slightly surprised to see Elisabeth Badley enter. She looked around the room before she slowly approached him.

"Leon. I was wondering how you were doing." she said as he came to a standstill next to him.

"What, at 2.30am?" he replied before increasing the speed of the treadmill. His breathing intensified as he brushed his sweat-soaked blond hair back from his face.

"Rebecca said you were having a few issues. I thought that maybe I could help."

"And how exactly can you help me?"

"Well, you can think of me as a neutral ear if there's anything you want to talk about."

"Yeah right. Did someone send you?"

"No – this is just a coincidence. I've been in the lab so long that I thought a quick workout would help me relax a bit before I go to bed."

Leon regarded her outfit in the mirror. She certainly looked like she was dressed for the gym - she was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and trainers, but it was certainly no coincidence that she was here.

Elisabeth gestured towards the treadmill adjacent to Leon.

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"Go ahead." he replied nonchalantly.

Elisabeth climbed on the treadmill and roughly tied back her blond hair with a red elastic band. She set the speed and inclination and began to jog. After a few moments, she progressively increased the speed to match Leon stride for stride. This made Leon smile. What was she trying to prove?

"So, are you and Rebecca still busy playing God then?" he asked.

"If you're talking about...our mission to bring down Wesker…yes." she said between heavy breaths. The quick pace Leon had set was intense.

"Well good luck. I suppose that's what you're good at. Argh!" Leon suddenly gasped and pulled up. He slammed the emergency stop switch on the treadmill and grabbed his side.

"What's wrong?" Elisabeth asked as she pressed the emergency stop on her treadmill, and rushed across to Leon.

"It's just a twinge in my back." he grimaced.

"I'm not surprised." Elisabeth said glancing at the L.E.D display. "You've been running for over two hours at this pace. You're going to give yourself a heart attack. Come here - let me see."

Before Leon could protest, she slipped her hand underneath his t-shirt and felt the tender area. He flinched.

"That hurts."

"You've pulled a muscle. I can help this. Lie down." She ordered while gesturing to a padded mat on the floor. Leon lay face down on the mat, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Elisabeth knelt down next to him and pushed up his t-shirt. Using both her hands, she began to gently massage the tightened muscles of his lower back. She could sense Leon was tense and probably very uncomfortable.

"So…" she began. "How are you feeling? Really."

"Why do you want to know? Why do you even care?"

"I guess I want to know if it works…and contrary to what you might think, I do care. You're a good soldier. The S.T.A.R.S need you."

"Maybe you've not been paying too much attention recently, but I'm a little out of favour at the moment."

"Just give them time. It's an unusual situation, but once they see that you're still you, and what you can do now…"

"I was dead.''

She stopped massaging him for a moment.

"But you're not now. You're alive. You've been given another chance." She returned to massaging his lower back. Slowly her hands crept up his spine. Leon breathed deeply and closed his eyes. She could sense he was more relaxed now. "So how do you feel? Really."

"Apart from my back, I feel great. Really good. I feel like I'm in better shape than I've ever been. I can run faster, hit harder, aim better…"

"So why have you distanced yourself from everyone?"

"I think it's more like the other way around. Chris has taken me off mission. The other guys avoid me like the plague. They think I'm going to turn into something…"

"What about Claire?" she asked softly, her hands were now gently rubbing his shoulder blades.

"When someone does something…you know that they only did it for the best, but it was the wrong decision...'' Leon paused.

"Go on."

"Nah, it doesn't matter, not anymore anyway. Sometimes you see a side of someone that really scares you, makes you realise just how far they'll go, no matter the consequences. Life is hard enough without having to deal with that.''

Elisabeth lent forward and began to massage Leon's shoulders. "I know what you're really feeling." she whispered in his left ear.

"Enlighten me."

"It's called guilt."

"Guilt? Yeah, right."

"Yes, it's guilt. You're alive, when you should be dead. It was your time after all. You died valiantly, doing your duty. It was the right way for a soldier to die."

"And what does this have to do with guilt?"

"You feel guilty because you were brought back. Be honest Leon. Do you want to die as an old man, falling asleep in your favourite chair or do you want to die in a blaze of glory, fighting impossible odds? You see, we're so alike Leon, you and I. We can't have a quiet life. We need to be on the edge. And you have to pay the price for that."

Leon pushed himself up to his knees while Elisabeth sat back.

"You don't know me as well as you think you do.'' Leon said softly, moving his face closer to hers.

"Yes, I do." she whispered.

Leon reached forward and removed the red band that secured Elisabeth's hair. He gently ran his hand through the wavy blond mass as it fell softly around her face. He then leaned forward slowly and nuzzled into her neck. As he breathed in her subtle scent, a warm feeling coursed through his body. His hands began to explore her toned shoulders and firm back.

Elisabeth sighed. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she said quietly.

Leon sat back on his knees and looking directly into Elisabeth's green eyes, he nodded. "I'm sure."

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