March 18th, 2005

Rebecca Chambers tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear with a sigh. The paper she was attempting to write wasn't exactly hard, just tedious. Her gray eyes roamed over the screen of her laptop, searching for mistakes the spell check tool might have missed.

"Huh." She uttered a small, distasteful grunt as she realized that she had accidentally spelled her own name wrong. Not to mention there was a "to" where there should have been a "too," as well as several "an's" where there should have been "and's." She corrected these, then sighed again as she realized this was only the first page of her report. For someone who had been so smart as a child, such small mistakes were a bit of an embarrassment, even if no one was around to see.

Being a child prodigy had not been easy. She was already in the seventh grade by age nine. Shy and for the most part friendless, she was ignored by the older children—who were secretly jealous of her, as she did better in class than any of them—and laughed at by the younger; those of her own age group did not bother to hide their jealousy. Rebecca was also very small for her age, barely four feet tall, and was thus an easy target for bullies. Often she went home in tears with books wet from being dropped in puddles, her clothes torn by mean little hands. Her family was not rich, otherwise they would have gladly sent her to a private school for children such as herself in the hopes that she might make a few friends. She continually wondered why she was picked on for simply being smart, but her stubbornness demanded that she did not quit. She also knew how much her education meant to her parents, who loved her as best they could.

Rebecca had a brother fifteen years her elder. He was by no means a genius, but had enough common sense and strength of mind to make it in the Marines. She remembered, vaguely, being a flower girl at his wedding when she was seven. He stayed at home for a while after that and within a year, he and his wife had a set of twins. Those were happy times: she had first started moving up in school and the bullying hadn't begun yet, the whole family was at home, and two beautiful new baby boys created a constant state of happy chaos. But all too soon, her brother was sent away.

The night they received the news he had been captured was one she wished she could forget. For the next two weeks her family maintained nearly hourly contact with various government officials. Then, one day, it all stopped as abruptly as it began. Her mother walked into the kitchen to find her daughter-in-law hanging up the phone, one twin balanced on her hip. She turned, face devoid of any readable emotion, and then fainted. Rebecca's mother literally had to dive to catch the baby.

There was a funeral, which Rebecca remembered little of aside from her own miserable confusion and the crying of everyone as her sister-in-law, widowed at the age of twenty-two, received the American flag. Things had simply gone downhill after that.

Her sister-in-law, Cathi, decided to stay with them "for a little while longer." They soon learned that she was pregnant again. It was a mixed blessing. The family had enough to worry about already with the extra two children, Kaleb and Ryan. Now there was to be another? Their home had only three rooms, but they made due. Anyone could see Cathi wasn't ready to be on her own yet... especially with another child on the way. Rebecca's mother took an extra job to help support them all, which kept her away most of the time and made her irritable when she was home.

It was around this, the most inopportune of times, that Rebecca's problems escalated. At school her quietness and lack of response normally discouraged most taunts. She kept to herself and everyone left her alone, it was as simple as that. So she stayed away from them, diving deeper into her studies. One day, however, she was surprised to find an older boy standing in front of her locker as she went to get her things after school.

What followed was the beginning of a humiliating series of events: he called her names, and when she didn't answer, he pushed her. But he miscalculated how light her tiny body was—she tumbled down a small flight of stairs like a rag doll thrown by a child having a tantrum and into the side of a garbage can, causing it to spill all over her. By the time she regained her bearings and had gotten the worst of the rubbish off of her clothes, the boy had left. She went on her tearful way home, rubbing her sore head and thankful at least that she had not cried in his presence. Incidents such as these became more common, and while they worried her parents, there was little they could do aside from contact her teachers and comfort her.

By the time she went off to college at the age of fourteen, her mother was all but removed from her life. She had fought to the top of her company and eventually quit her second job, though the demands of her new position often kept her away from home. Her father was a silent, bitter man. Cathi lived with them permanently—along with Kaleb, Ryan, and Fae, her third child. Rebecca spent much of her time with her extended family; at times she felt she knew her sister-in-law better than her mother, and her nephews and niece were like siblings. When the time came for her to choose her career, her whole family watched eagerly. Her parents seemed to expect that she would be some sort of rocket scientist or brain surgeon, and Cathi was convinced she would make a good professor. No matter how you put it, no one expected—or wanted—her to take a dangerous job.

So everyone was surprised when she announced her career choice: police officer.

Rebecca majored in police science and chemistry, studied anatomy and biology, and dabbled in medical practice. And so she gave her family yet another shock when she announced that she would be accepting the position of "field medic" for Raccoon City's S.T.A.R.S. Instead of working in a lab as they'd assumed she would, solving cases using minute traces of evidence and seeing little more than other white-coated forensic scientists, little Rebecca Chambers would be out in the field, an officer of the law.

She had always been interested in being a doctor of some sort, but felt she needed something... more. So she decided to pick up where her brother left off—in a way, at least, by protecting the people of Raccoon City. And sure enough, S.T.A.R.S. was looking to hire. She had been recommended by a chemistry professor who was friends with a S.T.A.R.S. officer, and within a year of graduating college, she had her badge. It had all been easier than she would have dreamed, and at first she was so eager and ecstatic...

After the mansion incident, however, she decided that being a doctor was more than enough excitement for her. She was impatient for her life to return to normal, but a good friend had pointed out it might never be so. Contacting her family might be dangerous, Chris Redfield told her. She might never be able to talk to them again if she wished them to be safe, for Umbrella might go after them to get at her. Once she returned to the U.S. after almost two years of hiding, she moved to Minnesota with the intent of studying medicine in one of the state's universities. She had very little therapy while out of the States, but came out none the worse for it. Her stubborn mind needed little help telling her that things would be alright now: she had done all she could, and her complete absence would be better for her family in the end no matter how much it hurt her. Life resembled something ordinary once again... even though she still woke up screaming once in a while.

So, here she was: sitting in a small café, laptop in front of her and paper waiting to be written. This was to be one of her final projects before she finished that particular course. She planned to practice medicine in other countries, specifically poorer ones where people needed medical attention but did not receive any. However, for now the essay would have to wait. Her mind was wandering, and she was bored with writing.

Rebecca sighed and tipped her head back, stretching her neck. A quick check of her watch told her she still had ten minutes before she needed to leave, so she decided to check her e-mail.

It was at that moment, as she closed out of Word Processor, she felt it. Something that was so eerily familiar, so much like déja vu, that the sensation sent shivers up her spine. Her mind searched frantically to place this feeling before she came up with an answer.

Eyes. On the back of her neck, but not just there. They roamed slightly, taking in her slender frame, darting over her shoulders, searching out her lower back and rising to rest again on her neck. She suddenly felt so... exposed in the light blue tank top she wore that clung effortlessly to her petite form.

But I know that feeling! I know it...

And suddenly, another realization hit her.

The train! That night on the train! I was picking up a key from the dead man's body, there was so much blood... and I turned, and...

She began to turn slowly, seeing him out of the corner of her eye before she was even allowed to finish her movement.

...and there was Billy.

She half expected—no, fully expected—him to be standing behind her, gun in hand. But of course, no one was holding a gun to her. However, three tables back, sat a man. He sported a nondescript black tee-shirt with a washed out denim jacket over, his somewhat unkempt chin-length hair hanging about his face. He also wore dark sunglasses, which he now pulled down on the bridge of his nose so that he might study her over them. She had no chance to even finish turning in her chair, though, because at that moment her thoughts were shattered as a friend burst through the door and yelled her name.

"Becca Coen!"

She had changed more than just her career upon her return to the United States. At her request, Chris had gotten her a new I.D.

"I've got connections," he'd said with a wink. He hadn't inquired as to her choice of name.

She looked up, startled and blushing. "Hey, Liz."

"You didn't bother to return my phone call. Thanks," the tall blonde said, mustering a frown. She didn't seem to notice Rebecca's flustered mien. "Come on; let's go get some lunch with Sandy and Belle. Belle said she would bring Ted, and you know how much fun he is."

"You just like to stare at his ass," Rebecca muttered, with a small smile of her own.

"Whatever! Now come on, unless you're already waiting for someone here or something."

"No..." Rebecca said absently as she gathered up her things and shoved them into her shoulder bag. Liz started out the door, obviously impatient. But Rebecca lingered a moment after her computer was securely tucked into her bag. The man was still watching her. She could see his eyes over the dark glasses: the deepest blue, burning hard and cold as ice under a winter moon; and yet, somehow, there was so much more behind their callous, uncaring surface...

"Becca! Come on!" She shook her head to clear the cluttered thoughts and ran out the door after her friend, carefully making sure not to take a second glance back.

No. That part of my life is over.

Holy shit. That had been his first thought. It can't be her.

She looked a bit different, of course. Her hair was a little longer, and so didn't look quite as boyish anymore—but that didn't change the fact that the girl sitting in front of the laptop had been Rebecca. A moment after he'd noticed her she turned around, and he was almost one hundred percent sure of it.

But the clincher was her name: Becca Coen. He knew that it made sense for her to change her identity. If she had been worried about Umbrella eventually coming back to destroy all evidence, it would have been required. He had done the same because of his record, hooking up with a man he knew in Mexico who was just good at taking care of that sort of thing. But she had chosen his name. Suddenly, his mind was a hurricane whirling with emotions and memories and feelings that made him thoroughly uncomfortable.

Standing, he put some cash on the table for a tip before paying for his coffee at the counter. Hands in pockets, he then walked out into the pleasantly bright afternoon sunshine, looking both ways down the sidewalk before spotting the blonde and brunette heads he searched for bobbing away among the crowd. Billy turned and began to follow them.

Next Chapter: Leon Kennedy... a girl named Gracelynn... a lost kitten... a letter with too much truth to it. Chance meetings and bad omens.