A/N: I admit in advance that I don't know anything about gutting fish. This first draft was hard to write and that's why it's a little late… coughtwoyearscough… Good thing I had an outline. It's a lot of info all at once, but I felt it had to be done (and almost twice as long as usual!). Let me know what you think. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Trish. -P

Chapter Three
Blood is Thicker

Don't wait for the sun
It could turn black any day

-American HiFi, Don't Wait for the Sun

Leon reached for another dead fish as it moved slowly past him on the conveyor belt. Moving the boning knife deftly, he sliced along the salmon's belly, numbly running through the motions of gutting and de-boning the fish before tossing it onto the belt running behind him. After three weeks of standing above a trough filled with smelly fish guts, Leon could clean a fish in less than 20 seconds. Leon shuddered to think that the monotony of his job was "zombie-like." If only the zombies of Raccoon City had stood around gutting fish all day, Leon mused bitterly.

"Heey, Loppin' Leon!" Leon grimaced before turning to force a surprised smile for his co-worker. Larry grinned widely as he thumped Leon on the back. "I thought you moved to the night shift!"

"Yeah, today's my first day back." Leon tried not to sound weary as he prepared himself for a short bout of small talk.

"You only been working here for a few weeks, Leon. Maybe you should stick with the same shift, yeah?" Leon was not sure where Larry got his accent. It sounded East Coast, but he never bothered to ask. By now Leon wasn't sure if he avoided other people out of caution or simple apathy.

"Yeah, I switched for a week to walk my girlfriend home from her new job," Leon replied in what he hoped was a friendly enough tone. "Now she says I'm crowding her, so I came back to days." Well, that wasn't a complete lie, Leon reasoned. Claire may not have been his girlfriend in the way Larry supposed, but he had switched his shift for a week so that he could walk her home from her new restaurant job. While Claire had told him she liked his company on the way home, she also made the point that she did know how to use the glock in her purse. After that, he relaxed a little.

"Tch, women!" Larry waved, already walking away with a patronizing smile. He was a social man but he didn't want to be caught standing with Lopping Leon for too long. "See you around, Leo!"

After Larry turned around, Leon let the phony grin fall from his face and he turned back to his work as if the interruption had never happened. He allowed the use of his real name in each place where he worked, simply because he had to answer to it more often. The constant lies of fake names and invented girlfriends on top of the unfair wages of undocumented work only added to his hatred of Umbrella.

Umbrella was often the subject where Leon's mind tended to wander when it detached from his mechanical work. He couldn't help but imagine the life he could have had if only he hadn't been sent to Raccoon City. It sure wouldn't have involved standing up to his knees in fish guts eight hours a day. Instead, he could have had the job he had been trained to do, the one that made his family proud. He would have been protecting people, not suffering each night from the nightmares of having to shoot them in the head instead. He briefly wondered if he'd ever be able to think about anything other than the night of September 29th. He corrected himself—sometimes he thought about the night of September 30th instead. It was the night they lost Sherry.

Leon viciously stabbed the fish in his hands, nearly slicing clean through it. He remembered arriving at the barricaded city limits, of being treated as survivors. He told the commander of the National Guard all about the incident and Umbrella's involvement. Sherry was pried away from Claire to receive medical attention; the girl was still feeling ill, though Leon reassured everyone that she had been cured.

Thinking of it now, Leon could have hung himself—he had been far too trusting. In the middle of the night, Umbrella-marked vehicles had arrived at the barricade. Seeing them, he and Claire sneaked outside around the tents. They overheard the commander quickly explaining about the "carriers," and telling an armed team in biohazard suits where to find them. Claire immediately wanted to find Sherry, but Leon held her back. Maybe he made a mistake. They watched as the men in biohazard suits rushed away a gurney carrying the unconscious young girl to one of the Umbrella vans. Claire had screamed.

A shrill whistle blew, signaling his lunch break. It was a few moments before Leon realized he was still holding a dead fish in his hands. Four hours already? He mentally shook himself and tossed the voided fish behind his back to land on the receiving belt. In his mind, he was still dragging Claire away as the chase began. They had jumped into an unmanned vehicle and smashed through the barrier that night, beginning their lives on the run. Claire cried herself to sleep that night and missed the explosion at dawn. The United States Government bombed Raccoon City the morning of October 1st.

Claire huffed her way up three flights of dingy stairs, returning to her apartment after running her morning errands. She reached her floor and carefully set down her bag of groceries as she paused in front of the door like she always did. She listened carefully, and slowly turned her key in the lock. On some level, she reasoned that it was unlikely that the first manifestations of a B.O.W. outbreak in Seattle would occur behind her apartment door. However, the deep fear of slowly opening a door to yet another lurking horror was too far ingrained to let go of her caution.

She opened the door with one hand while the other was halfway in her purse holding a handgun. Once inside, she glanced around quickly until she was satisfied that nothing sinister was about. Today, that seemed to include Mike. Claire dropped her purse on the counter and found a note instead: "hope you had fun with your other boyfriend." Claire only rolled her eyes at Mike's guilt trip attempt before moving into the kitchen to make some breakfast. She poured herself a bowl of cold cereal and carried it into her living room/bedroom to the only armchair.

Tucking her legs beneath her and balancing the bowl on one knee, she unfolded the newspaper and began to read. The front page was nothing interesting, just news on some presidential candidates and more politics. The science and technology section had an article on stem cell research, which Claire read. Leon had once teased her by saying that she was the only person he knew who could use the word "pupate" correctly in a sentence. She knew she could probably never go back to college to finish her biology degree, not after flunking out of an entire fall semester. That, and the small fact that the entire country thought she was a terrorist.

These thoughts prompted Claire to search for any news regarding Leon or herself. Not even a week after they escaped the barricade around Raccoon City, Claire and Leon found their names listed among the country's most wanted terrorists. Along with Jill Valentine and Claire's brother Chris, they were being blamed for unleashing a biochemical "dirty" bomb in the middle of Raccoon City, unleashing a hideous, cannibalistic disease. She and Leon had been on the move for the past three months, keeping off "the grid," taking whichever jobs would pay them only in cash with minimal questions asked. This usually meant babysitting or service jobs for Claire and manual labor like construction for Leon. Every once in a while someone would recognize their faces or an armored truck filled with Umbrella operatives would surround whichever seedy motel or grubby apartment they had been living in. Then they had to run.

Today Claire found her name almost buried toward the end of the paper. It appeared that after three months of evasion, the government and Umbrella were becoming less vocal of the fact that she and Leon still had not been caught. This article only mentioned that the terrorists might be heading for Mexico. That was exactly where Claire wanted to go, but Leon had abruptly changed their course and started heading for Canada instead. The decision appeared to be paying off. Claire often wondered if this was the reason why she never heard of her brother; he must have escaped from the country. She wondered where he could be now, and if he was fighting Umbrella abroad.

There was one other survivor who Claire never read about. If Leon knew that she thought about the little girl's fate every day since she had been abducted, he would see right through her cheerful mask. The feeling of abandoning a small child who had instinctively trusted her… Claire forced herself to stop. She was going to turn the tables on Umbrella someday, and then she would save Sherry. Claire was certain the little girl knew that she was coming back for her.

Claire shook out the paper and was about to fold it up when she noticed a torn piece of paper flutter to the ground. She picked it up and found handwriting hastily scribbled on a piece of notebook paper.

"Turn to section A5," Claire muttered aloud. Suddenly, her nerves were on end. Her paranoia kicked into overdrive as she realized someone must have known she would pick up this paper. She visited the same paper stall every day. Stupid! Whoever had slipped the note into the paper must have been in the stall with her the moment she bought it. Her mind immediately leaped to the elderly man who had sold her the paper. Maybe he had been paid to do it. Claire raked her memory. Maybe it had been the person standing next to her, bundled up with a scarf over his face as he browsed the magazines…

In her panic, Claire actually forgot about what the note said. Mentally shaking herself, she quickly turned to section A5. She scanned headlines quickly, looking for something familiar. Gore versus Bush, Y2K fears, Chinese year of the…

"Oh my God," Claire breathed as she found it. "Rogue U.S. Police Officer Gunned Down in Paris" was immediately followed by the name Chris Redfield. Claire scanned the article at least three times before getting the gist of the story. It claimed that her brother had infiltrated the Parisian headquarters of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals "with unknown motives" and sparked a firefight with Umbrella's security force. Details from the French government had not yet been released, but it was believed that the ex-Air Force pilot/ex-police officer of the lately bombed Raccoon City was killed in the skirmish.

Claire was stunned for several moments longer. Chris was alive, she was sure of it. Umbrella was trying to hide another gaffe by announcing his death. But what was he doing in Paris? He had to be fighting Umbrella underground—why hadn't he contacted her?

She instantly knew what her next goal was. Claire jumped up, almost knocking her cereal bowl to the floor. She dumped it in the kitchen and pulled on her shoes before running out of the apartment. She was heading for the docks.

Normally, Leon took his lunch out on the pier. He knew that the distance from the cafeteria where the other workers ate their lunch probably only strengthened his anti-social reputation, but popularity was lower on his list than peace and quiet. Unfortunately, today Larry had taken it upon himself to drag him by the elbow to the cafeteria instead. Leon pretended to be pleased to sit with the rest of the guys for a change, but he was sure they were just as uncomfortable around him as he was around them. Leon bought his usual egg salad on wheat bread from the vending machine, which was the healthiest thing available next to the Twinkies and cupcakes. He was far more health-conscious than Claire, who he was constantly chastising for choosing Doritos and soda.

In a position that was even more uncomfortable than sitting in a room filled with people, Leon was forced to sit at a table with his back to the entrance. He tried to combat his paranoia by resisting the urge to keep glancing over his shoulder. Instead, he tried to keep conversation to a minimum by speaking only when directly spoken to and focused his attention to any sounds behind him. He thought he heard whistling and guys catcalling. Larry, seated next to him, turned around and whistled himself. "Damn, whose pretty chickie is that?"

Leon allowed himself to turn around now to find Claire scanning the crowd at the entrance. She saw him as soon as he turned around and waved to him. Larry nudged him in the ribs as he stood to meet her amid more catcalls. When he joined her at the entrance, Claire surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Leon must have looked momentarily stunned because he forgot to hug Claire back when she gave him a quick squeeze.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out," she said with a small smile. Lowering her voice, Claire nodded her head in the direction of the guys at his table who were shouting and giving Leon thumbs up. "Don't they think I'm your girlfriend?"

"Ah, yeah," Leon replied, quickly recovering. "It's loud in here, let's go to the pier." Once outside, Leon could tell something was seriously agitating Claire. She was chewing fiercely on her bottom lip and twisting her hands in a knot.

"Leon, did you read the paper today?" she started as they walked toward the ocean. Leon shook his head. He usually read it first thing in the morning to get the jump on anything Umbrella might have planned for him during the day, but today's nightmare had distracted him.

"I think someone's tailing me," Claire blurted out, and Leon stopped abruptly.

"How do you know?"

"There was a note in my paper."

Leon squinted over her shoulder and scanned the empty lot as if he thought he could see Umbrella already. He quickly led her by the elbow behind one of the empty warehouses.

"What did it say," he asked in a low voice. It was very rare to see Claire suddenly disturbed, and he took this as a serious sign.

"It just told me to turn to a page in the paper," Claire said as she fished in her pockets. "Oh dang, I thought I brought it with me…"

"What was in the paper?" Leon asked, almost impatiently. Claire stared up at him, suddenly looking vulnerable.

"My brother, Chris," she started weakly. "He's in Paris. They said they killed him, but I know—"

"Don't worry, Claire," Leon interrupted. He knew how sensitive she was on this subject. He had been expecting to hear something about Sherry, but news about Chris was just as serious. From what they had pieced together, Chris had left the RPD without a word to Claire about a month before the widespread outbreak; perhaps with the intent of keeping her out of danger, but inadvertently leading his sister to the city to find him. The evidence they found at the police station in his wake led them to believe he was actively working against Umbrella, and that made him a solid ally in Leon's eyes.

"The note could be a good or bad sign," Leon said. Claire could see him trying to piece things together in his head as he started to pace. "It is a warning either way, either from Umbrella or someone on Chris's side." Leon stopped to stare steadily at Claire. "Either way, we're too obvious. We've got to keep moving." Claire looked like she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to say it. Leon watched her carefully but didn't interrupt as she decided how to say something he already knew he wasn't going to like.

"I want to go to Paris," she finally admitted. Leon's eyes narrowed, but she continued. "I think we should follow Chris's lead. We have to take down Umbrella, we can't just keep running from them." They hadn't had this conversation yet, but Leon could always sense it was coming. Claire was not as cautious as he was. He hated all the running and hiding just as much as she did, maybe even more because it rubbed firmly against his morals, but right now it was a matter of survival. To turn around and start chasing Umbrella instead would be a death wish.

"Claire, I don't think…" he began, but it was too late to try to pacify her.

"No Leon, think about it. We can't stay in the States anyway; it's been crazy trying to outrun our own government. I'm sure the only reason we haven't been killed yet is because Umbrella wants to watch us instead, but who knows how long that will last. They've ruined our lives and murdered thousands more!" Leon tried to stay patient as he watched Claire's temper flare. "What if this happens again? What if we're the only ones who can stop it?" She was now staring desperately up at Leon, waiting for his reply. Just as he predicted he wasn't going to like her solution, she already knew she was not going to like his.

"You know that's out of the question, at least right now," Leon said, looking away. Claire felt all the air leave her lungs as he continued. "You said it yourself. How can we chase after Umbrella when they're watching us already? They'll just wait for us to make one wrong move and then wipe us out in a second. They're practically a small army already. Taking them out is a job for an entire country, not just two people."

"'An entire country?'" Claire rejoined. She could see that Leon was in "bossy, overly-protective cadet" mode, but she could match him in stubbornness any day. "Do you mean our country, the ones who sacrificed us at the barricade? The ones who handed Sherry over to Umbrella? How do we know they'll do anything to stop Umbrella? How do we know they're not already with Umbrella?" Leon could see that there was not going to be any reasoning with Claire any further right then. The whistle that ended his lunch break sounded, giving him an excuse to cut her off.

"Look, I have to get back to work," he said, trying to soften his voice in the face of her boiling temper. "We can talk about this later." Claire only glared and crossed her arms over her chest. Leon knew that she would forgive him as he stepped closer to give her a hug. She didn't budge. He sighed and held a hand to her face instead.

"Don't be mad." He leaned forward and barely brushed her hairline with his lips. He thought he saw her frown soften a bit. He turned and headed into the warehouse, leaving Claire to stew.

A/N: Next chapter, Closest To Heaven:
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

rofl, I am such a sap… ;) But you know you love it! -P

DISCLAIMER: Claire, Leon, and everything else Resident Evil are all published and licensed by Sony Computer Entertainment and New Line Cinema. The concept and games were developed by Capcom.