Title: For Want of Other Idleness: Chapter I
Fandom: Resident Evil Extinction
Pairing: Alice/Claire
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
A/N: Set in the Extinction movie-verse. Feedback is super appreciated. In fact, I'll trade my first born for feedback. It takes you two seconds to give me some feedback, and it leaves me happy for days. Anyway, chapter uno.
The sign had been K-mart's idea.
Even in the midst of an apocalypse, the teenager found a way to indulge her artistic inclinations. By unanimous vote, the survivors of the convoy had named their reclaimed village Abernathy and when they cannibalized the town's old sign to use to patch a roof, K-mart decided the village of Abernathy needed its own sign.
Claire had been against the idea from the start, but once the teenager stuck an idea in her head, it was near impossible to dislodge it. But quickly, she recruited the rest of the survivors to help with her project, sans Claire who said she refused to waste time better spent repairing some of the village's wells or collecting food. The only reason she allowed the rest of the village to spend time on it was because it seemed so important to everyone.
A few of the adults drove a roughly hewn log into the ground for the sign's post on the north side of town along Edgerton Highway, the only road leading into the village. The littlest ones scavenged planks for the actual sign and bricks to place around the base of the post. One of the young teenagers found a stash of old tubes of oil paint. K-mart collected shards of colorful glass and sacrificed some of her jewelry for the beads.
The adults nailed the planks into place at the top of the post; the small children placed the bricks and bunches of wild flowers they had gathered around the bottom of the post. With the bits of brightly colored glass and glittering beads, K-mart created a border around the edges of the sign. "Abernathy" was painted in pale powder blue block letters. And underneath, scrawled with a stick of charcoal: Population: 13.
"It's finished," K-mart told Claire one balmy afternoon, beaming proudly.
"Good," Claire pulled the bill of her cap lower over her eyes, hung her hunting rifle over her shoulder by its sling. "Now everyone can get back to work."
"We're going to have a dedication to officially mark its completion." The blond teenager said, rolling her eyes the way teenagers did whenever their patience with an adult wore thin. "You can come if you want." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, towards the north side of the village.
"Somebody's got to check the dip nets." Claire replied tonelessly, referring to the nets she and the other villagers set in the nearby river to catch salmon. When K-mart didn't reply, she lifted her gaze.
The girl appeared on the verge of words, as if she was privy to information that she wasn't sure she should share, but just shook her head. "Okay," She shrugged as if to dismiss the matter as unimportant. "We'll all be back before dark."
Claire adjusted the weight of her rifle, and headed into the forest and towards the river, leaving the village of Abernathy behind her.
The trail she chose was a longer route to the river, but the trees were thicker, the terrain more diverse. Halting in mid step, she paused long enough to watch a pair of rabbits chasing one another across the path and rustle into the brush. Once at the river, she took her time checking the nets and dipping them back into the water to sit overnight. Still reluctant to return to the village, she sat cross-legged on the river bank, rifle across her lap.
The water churned at this point of the river, not quite into rapids, but just enough that the water protested against rocks and a gentle curve in its course in an audible rushing babble. It was soothing, a comforting balm that lured her from the present into her thoughts. This used to be her favorite time of day, when everything was done for the day. She would perch atop the hood of the Hummer as dusk prepared the sky for the shroud of night. Cigarette pressed between her lips, she'd watch as the stars slowly revealed themselves and let her mind drift.
From the very start, she had been against the sign, though she hadn't known precisely why. It wasn't necessary, a frivolous waste of time. It was not as if anyone but themselves was around to see it. But the motives ran much deeper than constructing a landmark. Everyone, except Claire, had contributed something to it: time, skills, materials, suggestions. The sign had become an emblem of pride for the survivors of Claire's convoy, the inhabitants of Abernathy, Alaska.
Hope. That's what Carlos would have called it. The manufacture of the sign became something of a symbol of normalcy. The first step toward rebuilding a life that was not constructed on a foundation of fear, of running and hiding. No one laughed much the past six years, but she had heard them, seen their smiles as they built the little sign that was their claim on this land, their declaration that this village was their home.
Carlos probably would have encouraged them to build the damn thing, just because it made everyone feel better. Just like he had argued to allow Alice to stay with the convoy, just like he argued in favor for trying to reach Alaska. Not because it was practical or even logical, but because it felt right. He was much better at people than she ever was, that was definitely Carlos's arena. But Claire could not afford to be swayed by emotion, by people. She was responsible for the survival of the convoy, now the village. It was her duty to do what was best for them.
But it did not change the fact that Carlos, who had sacrificed himself so they all could make it here, had been right on both counts. Alice had saved them all, and Alaska was the haven they hoped for. Perhaps, if he had still been alive, he would have been right about the sign too.
He might have been, Claire thought, clenching her teeth to fight down the rising swell in her throat. It did not change what the sign symbolized to her though. To Claire, the sign was a raw reminder of what was missing from her life.
As the sun set, she slung her rifle over her shoulder again and started back to the village. In the darkened woods, she relied on memory to carry her back home, rather than sight. Still accustomed to the silent desert, every noise still made her pause and listen. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever get used to the dense forests and mountains of Alaska.
It still didn't feel like home. She found no comfort in having a roof over her head, a cabin that she shared with K-mart and called her own. There should have been solace in a daily routine that excluded running and fighting, but Claire felt only unease. It felt as if the trees were slowly pressing in on her, and the horizon where air kissed earth was much too close.
Part of her missed the desert. Not the sand or the heat, but in the desert she had Alice.
Her feet carried her past the silent homes where everyone had retired for the night, past the abandoned general store and coffee shop that they had yet to convert into useful buildings, to the north side of town.
To where the little sign was posted, surrounded by handfuls of wildflowers and draped in braided wildflower garlands. Hands planted on her hips, Claire tried to see what the others saw, tried to find hope and pride in the little sign that boasted "Abernathy, Alaska. Population: 13."
Instead, she was reminded of an obscenely gaudy grave marker.
"I figured you'd make your way here eventually." A voice behind her sniffed awkwardly and said. Claire did not have to turn around to know it was K-mart. Gravel crunched under sneakers as the teenager walked over to stand beside her, hands jammed into the pockets of her jacket. She was silent for a long minute before speaking again, this time her voice a whisper. "Do you think she's still alive?"
Claire also did not have to ask what "she" K-mart was referring to, but the question still caught her unexpectedly, like a solid punch to her chest, like having the wind kicked out of her. Swallowing her initial reaction, she shrugged weakly. "If anyone could survive, it's Alice."
Left in the middle of a herd of hundreds of Infected, left to challenge an entire Umbrella Corporation facility by herself, not even Alice could have escaped without a miracle. Even if she managed to somehow take out the facility, there was still the matter of fighting her way past hundreds of Undead without being Infected or ripped apart limb from limb. Claire did not know whether her lover was dead, she had not seen her die or felt the finality of it, but all logic told her there was no way she could have survived.
Mostly, Claire did not allow herself to think about it. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that she would never see Alice again. Biting down on the inside of her lip, hard, she fought the tightness in her chest and throat that brought unbidden tears.
Through a haze of tears, Claire stared at the sign and finally felt something within herself break. All of her family had been killed within months of the T-Virus escaping Raccoon City, and in six years she had lost dozens of friends. But she had never let herself break. Someone had to hold it together, someone had to be strong, make sure as many people survived as was possible. But the thought that Alice may be gone forever, and that the garish little sign would be the only marker Claire would have to remember her by, was the final blow to her broken spirit.
She attempted to bite back the first sob but it broke free of her, and once the barrier had been breached, she was helpless to stop. The sobs shook her with such violence that her legs could no longer support her and she fell to her knees. K-mart caught her before she fell completely to the ground and knelt beside her, guiding the older woman to lean against her body.
The tears she shed were not silent tears of pain or loss, they were brutal sobs of grief that came as if they were being forcibly wrenched from her body. Nothing could be right in the world for Claire, not anymore. What had it mattered, when they were in the desert that they were near starving, facing Undead at every intersection and doorway, battling for life on a daily basis? At least then Alice was with her, snuggled against her in the Hummer, watching her with brooding blue eyes, touching her with slender, calloused hands. It hadn't mattered if she died because she had Alice. Now without her, how was she supposed to live?
K-mart cradled her, let her weep. "Alice will find us, Claire." The teenager whispered, once the sobs had subsided into ragged breaths. "She'll find us," She declared, nearly hissing with conviction.
Tears still streaking her face, Claire clung to the younger woman as if she were afraid of falling. "She has to, K. I can't… she has to."
