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Claire's quotation comes from Shakespeare's King Lear. It is a throwback to the speech she was giving in class at the story's beginning.

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Chapter 13: A Violent Goodbye

Wesker chuckled as Claire grumbled about not being a pincushion as she began to awaken. Her eyes flickered open when she felt herself leaning into something warm and black. In her drowsy state, she only slowly realized that she was being supported by Wesker's chest.

What the hell? She jerked herself upward, and Wesker was giving her his subtlety-amused expression. She tried to regain her dignity by sitting straight in the seat next to him. They appeared to be on a landing plane—a small, personal plane it seemed. Claire had been sedated for the majority of the trip, and now that she realized she was not in a lab, she actually felt a rush of relief. She noticed that a briefcase and another black bag rested beside Wesker's feet.

"Don't worry," a man dressed sharply in a suit assured. He sat nearby with a briefcase on his lap. There were several other people dotting the small, classy cabin, but very few. "We're landing soon. You survived."

"Oh," Claire said and wondered what story Wesker had given the people for her unconscious state. "I'm Claire." She couldn't resist speaking to the friendly man. She could feel Wesker's eyes on her, but she kept looking toward the aisle and away from him. It was his own damn fault for keeping her isolated for so long. God, it felt good to have a normal conversation in a normal setting.

"Paul," he greeted. They shook hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'd wished you'd woken up earlier. Your companion has been most quiet, and that always makes for a longer trip." Claire could only imagine the man trying to engage Wesker in conversation. She ignored the fact that Wesker's hand touched hers in warning.

"He's not exactly a chatterbox," Claire commented with as much forced lightheartedness as possible. The grip on her hand tightened, but she couldn't resist her charade. What the hell was he going to do on a plane? It's what he'll do after you're off of the plane that you should be worrying about, a voice cautioned. Screw it. "I've had better conversations with dogs." Paul chuckled. Wesker's mood took a dive. "I do get a bit nervous on planes though. Which airport did we leave from?"

"Dear heart, it's time for us to leave," Wesker darkly announced while lifting her from her seat by the forearm. Claire had no opportunity to resist. The plane had fully landed, and Wesker ushered her out of the plane so quickly that she could only give Paul an apologetic smile as she scrambled down the stairs. The entire time, Wesker kept a tight and painful grip on her elbow. "Miss Redfield, any further communication with strangers will have unpleasant results," he stated in a deadly, near monotone voice. It literally rang with the promise of abuse. Claire dared not object when he was so angry. "Don't wander."

Claire and Wesker left the small airport quickly and a car took them to a train station where they stood on a platform and waited. Claire watched life buzzing around them and felt strangely detached from it. People joked and laughed or cursed others for bumping into them, and Claire remained shut away in another world and observing. How long had it been since she was more concerned with which sandwich to order than staying alive? She watched a couple kissing in a corner and wondered what she and Wesker looked like to a passerby.

As people flooded off a train in their direction, Wesker wrapped an arm around Claire's waist to ensure that she did not slip away. She was not particularly thrilled with the gesture as they boarded. They entered a private car where they were the only two present, and Wesker seated them near an emergency exit door.

"Where exactly are we?" Claire asked.

"On the way to meet your brother. We should arrive shortly." He was making no move to further restrain her.

"What, you're not going to knock me out again?" Wesker smirked.

"Only if you'd prefer it. There's no reason to keep our location secret any longer, and watch your attitude, dear heart. You've played with fire enough for one day." Claire was happy that she'd remain conscious as she stared out the window. She almost smiled.

"The sky's a lovely blue," she commented. "Umbrella ought to add some color to their labs. I'm sick of gray, white, and," she glanced meaningfully at Wesker, "black." He looked relaxed and comfortable as he leaned into his seat and folded his arms over his lap.

"I'll put it on my to-do list," he sarcastically drawled. "Do you know how long it's been since you've been free?"

"26 days," she replied without pausing. Wesker was surprised that she had kept track so accurately, but he didn't comment. She was too engrossed in staring out the window. Her face was neither excited nor sad as she refocused on her lap. The realization that Chris was going to meet them and that he'd be killed had reclaimed her emotions. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"Yes," Wesker said. Claire glared at his baiting, mocking smile. He was enjoying himself, the sick freak.

"And?" Wesker shrugged his shoulders, and Claire waited impatiently.

"Chris still dies today." Claire fell mutely back into contemplating her lap. Wesker tilted her chin toward him questioningly.

"No tears, dead heart?"

"You think I'll weep; No, I'll not weep. I have full cause of weeping; but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep." Her level voice and cold eyes gave Wesker pause as he returned to his position. Claire would hunt him down for this; he was certain. Her high-held head spoke of resolve, not defeat, and for that he could most certainly respect her. An hour transpired before their silence was interrupted.

"You have potential, Miss Redfield," Wesker commented after checking his watch. "You can throw it away on your brother, or, in the right hands you could be amply rewarded for service in due time." Claire could not believe her ears.

"What are you suggesting?" she demanded and earned a threatening stare from Wesker for her tone.

"Merely that you should consider your options before continuing on your self-appointed mission to help the world." Red and blue bore into each other for some time. "I would pay you well, Miss Redfield, and you would be able to act unsupervised. You would have enough power to help people."

"Very funny, Wesker. You hurt people. You like them at your feet. That's why you were willing to kill yourself." But Claire was unnerved that there was some appeal to his words. She could not fathom how he had guessed that her brother's protectiveness frustrated her and that she was yearning to break free as an equal.

"I'm working toward a goal that will justify the losses." He spoke with conviction, but what it was directed toward, Claire could not imagine. "Peace would be enforced."

"For a high cost—too high to suffer. The answer is no, and nothing will change that." She thought of Steve and zoned out. He was just an insignificant piece of collateral damage to Wesker, and it made her fists clench. She stared at Wesker and wondered how he could passively allow so many people to suffer because of his actions. He never cared, and she felt her hatred for him brewing anew. Someone so cold and uncaring should not exist. She wondered if he had always been like this.

"It's time for us to depart, dear heart." The train was slowing, and Claire followed Wesker's lead by standing and heading for the compartment door. "Stay close." Claire did not defy him as they waded through bustling crowds. People easily parted for Wesker, and Claire again had to consider how impressive his presence was. As long as she remained close to him, she doubted anyone would be stupid enough to approach her. Wesker had rented a car for them, and Claire gazed longingly out the window as they drove further and further from civilization. All the trees reminded her of playing in the woods with Chris as kids. They had pretended to fight monsters that they had never considered to actually exist. She looked at Wesker. They most certainly did exist.

"Here we are, Miss Redfield." Claire was unimpressed by the factory-type building before them. Part of it was crumbling. It was a shell of a former lab. "Your brother and his friends got here before I realized how much of an annoyance they would be." Claire's heart swelled with pride for Chris as they entered the building and walked through the dilapidated facility to an open area overlooking an empty cafeteria. Wesker sat at a table and Claire nervously followed suit. Her mind was racing. There had to be some way to save Chris, but the only weapon present was a gun tucked into Wesker's belt.

"Wesker!" Chris's voice yelled demandingly. Claire leapt from her seat, but she couldn't locate Chris. Wesker laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Not so quick," he ordered. He turned Claire to look at him, and he was so close that she had to crane her neck upward to meet his gaze. He ran a hand down her cheek for what might possibly be the last time and stared at her. "My offer to take the virus for yourself—you really would have rejected it had I been serious, wouldn't you?" Claire mutely nodded and Wesker stepped back. "I see. Hmmm. As much as I love tender goodbyes, I don't believe we have the time. Dear heart, it has been a pleasure." And, in an arcane salute to her, he lifted and kissed the back of her hand. His cool lips on her skin caused Claire to tense in uncertainty.

"I can't say the same." Wesker smirked at her defiance and they descended the nearby stairs into the cafeteria. Claire could feel his presence at her back, and her hand tingled from where he had kissed her. No one had ever done such a thing to her, and she was surprised to find that she had somewhat liked it; however, there was no time to dwell on it. Chris was entering the room with Leon and Jill trailing quietly behind him. Claire caught sight of him first. "Chris!" She went to run toward him, but Wesker jerked her backward by the ponytail and held her against his chest. She rumbled in protest.

"Let her go, Wesker!" Chris demanded, desert eagle raised and leveled at his enemy's head. His hate for Wesker burned intensely.

"I see we're skipping the pleasantries," Wesker dryly mocked. He shoved Claire to the side, where she stumbled and fell to the ground. "I'm going to enjoy this, Chris. I suggest Miss Valentine and Mr. Kennedy leave before they get themselves killed."

"He's right," Chris stated.

"What?" Leon demanded.

"Go…follow the plan, and leave Wesker to me."

"Chris…" Jill began, but Leon motioned her away. They had agreed on their course of action before arriving, and they'd stick to it. They wordlessly left, and Wesker advanced on Chris.

"Not nearly as tenacious as our dear Miss Redfield, are they?" Chris fired, but Wesker charged and slammed the gun out of his way. It flew across the room. At the same time, he landed an incredible punch to Chris's abdomen and then kneed him. Staggering backward, Chris barely managed to dodge another hit by rolling to the side. He was on the ground, on his back, facing an advancing Wesker who held a gun at the ready. "This is for delaying my plans, Chris." He shot Chris in the left leg, and Chris screamed in pain. "Parting is such sweet sorrow." The gun was leveled at the other leg, and a gunshot rang out, but it wasn't from Wesker's gun.

"Bastard!" Claire had shot Wesker in the chest from behind, having retrieved Chris's fallen weapon. Her eyes were cold, like a professional killer's as she flooded her emotions into her trigger finger. She fired again, hitting him in the chest twice, now three times. Wesker stumbled backwards with an angry yell. "Chris, go!" Claire was at her brother's side and helping him to stand. "Run!"

Wesker had already healed and his temper boiled over. He faced Claire. You told me not to hesitate. Claire fired again, hitting him in the head and breaking his sunglasses. His head snapped forward quickly, and Claire watched in astonishment as his open wound closed in seconds. His red eyes burned more intensely than she could ever remember having seen.

"You're choice, dear heart." With that, Wesker dashed forward, lifted her by her shirt, and threw her. Her bodied sailed through the air and cleared tables out of the way as she skidded across the floor in a heavy landing. The skin on her palms was rubbed raw as she tried to slow her body down. "Two Redfields in one day," Wesker chuckled. "But such a waste concerning your sister." Chris came at him with a knife, and they briefly struggled before the intercom sounded with a self-destruct warning.

"Damn it!" Wesker cursed. Chris grimly cocked a lopsided smile.

"Not your day, after all, Wesker." Wesker could have closed the distance between them and smashed Chris's head in seconds, but he hardly considered that a satisfying victory. He could only kill Chris once, after all, and he planned to take his damn good time when the day came. And so he decided to make his exit as the annoying Mr. Kennedy ran into the room and began aiming his rifle.

"Another time, Chris," Wesker said in parting, and then his dark form disappeared down another passageway.

"Chris, let's move!" Leon shouted. The four fumbled their way clear of the building as the countdown reached its end. Leon had needed to half-carry the bleeding Chris, who was having problems standing now that his adrenaline was wearing off, and Claire was as sore as she could ever remember being. A van rushed toward them as a voice behind said "one". Rebecca was sitting inside and waiting for them. She threw the door open.

"Let's go, slowpokes! Hey, Claire!" She waved to the grimacing woman, who halfheartedly waved back. The van door slammed shut and the vehicle raced into the distance. Jill tended Chris's leg while Leon rode shotgun. Claire felt strange being around them again. Was she really in a van with friends and family? It seemed unreal after her captivity, but, as Chris reached out and nudged her shoulder, she broke free from her trance.

"You almost got me killed, loser," he joked. Claire broke into a huge smile as a few stray tears ran down her cheeks.

"You deserve if for stranding me at college with a bunch of twits while you fought zombies." They smiled at each other. "It's good to be back," Claire sighed. Chris gave her hand a squeeze. That, more than anything else let Claire know that she was home.

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The End!

WHAT?

I'm just joking. There is much more to come. I'm still editing what's already done and posting it while I work on continuing and ending the story at the same time.