Hey everyone, been awhile, no? As predicted, I haven't been able to write as much as I would have liked at work but I am hoping that may change. I've been writing snippets every once and awhile to keep things flowing but I don't know. Definitely feel it isn't the best. I would love to know your thoughts on it, kind criticism is so welcome, especially after a year.

With that being said, I'll see you all in another year! Jk, I hoping not. Really hoping not. :)

There are muffled voices behind the door, Chris lets out a sigh. Some days you just don't want to deal with coworkers. It was a rough sleep, too much shit in his head and yet he can't remember what was bothering him enough to keep him from falling asleep. Although, maybe subconsciously he does know.

He shoves down his irritation to just below the surface and pauses at the door. The lounge is close by…maybe a coffee would help. Nah, it'd just make him want to smoke more. Which he's trying to cut back on. That hasn't been easy. And it makes him more irritated.

Again the hesitation. Fuck it. Coffee. He heads for the lounge and once inside notices that the coffee pot has barely enough for a half cup. Well that's great. At least it's still warm, kinda. Better than nothing.

He takes a sip on his way back to the office and instantly feels somewhat ready to tackle whatever is waiting for him. He opens the door clearly part way through a conversation.

'I'm telling you, I saw her with someone!'

Chris walks into the office with Brad and Joseph standing on either end of the room, lobbing the ball past Rebecca who strangely is in the office with them today. It isn't often she joins them. Bravo must be getting into some deep shit.

She has her nose in a book, no doubt studying for some exam. She'll pass it. Girl's incredibly smart, it's almost scary. Especially given her age.

Brad holds onto the ball and gives it a squeeze. How could that be? And who could it be? Fuck he wants to know so badly. He waits until Chris takes a seat and throws the ball back to Joseph. Six, nearly seven months living in RC and she's already seeing someone? Fuck…

'How do you even know this? Sounds like you're just guessing.'

Joseph shakes his head. 'Nah, I saw her. They were…acting, uh, getting real close to one another.'

'What are you two talking about?' Chris wonders and pulls the coffee away from his mouth.

Joseph taunts Chris with the ball and he holds his arm up, catching it as Joseph tosses it to him so Brad take his time thinking about all of this new information. 'Jill. I saw her on a date with someone at the coffee place yesterday.'

'I said to Joseph we don't know if it was one,' Brad reminds them and Chris frowns.

'Why the fuck do we all seem to care?' He questions and that immediately shuts them up.

'I dunno…' Brad admits though he and Chris exchange a look that reveals Chris knows exactly why he cares. Brad hates it when Chris looks at him like that. It makes him squirm.

Joseph can sense it immediately. 'What, Brad, you weren't thinking you had a shot, did you? Come on, no way. You're up against Anthony Barron. You're not even in the same league as that guy…'

Anthony Barron, hotshot lawyer with the most prestigious law firm in town. Huntington-West. They say the guy's got a chance at making partner within the next year. Incredible, given he was just hired. Chris doesn't miss the dejected look in Brad's eyes. Of course he thought he had a chance.

But, what he doesn't know is that because RPD is rampant with casual sexual relationships between departments and sometimes, the department heads and subordinates, Jill casually let it slip that she'd never date anyone from the workplace.

She mentioned it when they had to have a small argument in the Clocktower and saw two people from Public Records come out. The department manager and her assistant manager. Strangely, that dominated their conversation. And that's when Jill let it be known of her preference.

Still though, good for her. If she is. Chris can't stand the conceited and holier than thou attitude this Barron guy displays whenever he comes in to get statements or attend interviews with suspects. Kinda surprised Jill would be after someone like him but then again, it isn't any of his business what she does.

Brad sits down dejectedly and retreats into himself. Joseph is not far behind and Chris wonders how the mood of the whole office can change with that simple revelation. He applauds himself for the coffee choice.

Joseph casually asks what Becks is reading up on and she begins to speak enthusiastically about something and Chris can see that his eyes glaze over, but Becks doesn't seem to notice, not with her excitement. He takes another drink from the coffee. How can it be so cold and bitter already? This simply won't do.

'I'm going to get the better shit they keep downstairs, anyone want one?' Chris wonders and Joseph puts his order in. With the amount of requested sugar, does he even want the coffee? Brad says no but then changes his mind, as usual. And Becks? Just a tea. Also not surprising.

Joseph offers to come with, clearly looking for a way out of his conversation but Chris shakes his head. Let Becks have her moment. He knows she feels like it's hard to connect with the teams sometimes.

Once back in the hallway, he decides to cut out the side door and grab a smoke. So much for trying to cut back. He makes it a few steps before his name is called. He pauses, hand on the door handle, and he takes the cigarette from his mouth. He turns over his shoulder to see Valentine heading his way, something clutched in her hand. A piece of paper.

Whatever it is…can't it wait until he grabs that coffee? It'll make him so much more tolerant. She must sense it because she stops and eyes him.

'You're right, it can wait.'

Chris stares at her. 'How did you know I was even going to ask that?'

'I can see it in your face,' she replies, folding her arms as she almost dares him to refute her. 'Just…let me know if you even care when you get back. Otherwise, I'll do it myself.'

He doesn't say anything because she's right, so what's the point in challenging her? Her comments linger with him. How did she become so adept at figuring him out? Was he that predictable?

He heads back up to the office with the round coffees, that one tea and a sense of obligation to hear Valentine out. She's been full of ideas so far, so what could she have brainstormed now? Walking into the office does little to draw Valentine's gaze to him, instead she continues to look at files and glance at the paper she has.

Joseph accepts the coffee as do Brad and Becks. Joseph, now free from Becks and her explanations, rolls his chair over to Brad so they begin arguing over who's going to drive to some event this weekend. Do they actually do any work?

Chris pulls his chair around to see what Valentine is working on and she looks over to him briefly. Man, she looks at him with such refined anger sometimes. Subtle but always there. They both seem to take the second to collectively gather themselves, clearly not wanting to be a part of this. But he decides to make the effort first. She can't fault him for a while then.

'So…' he begins and Valentine looks up to him with a look that just tells him she doesn't want to be here. Same. At least that's one thing they can agree on.

'I don't know the indepth connection yet, but I found something that may be of interest…' Valentine begins and he takes the piece of paper that she's offered him. 'I was out for coffee this weekend and I saw that posted on the cafe's bulletin board.'

Chris doesn't miss the defeat in Brad's eyes at that confirmation when they lock stares, he's dreading the fact that he may have to console him over this development in Valentine's personal life.

Fuck. Why does he have to be in the middle?

Chris pushes the thought from his mind and inspects the paper. It's a posting from Umbrella. Not entirely odd, probably for a job or internship or something. He frowns. Nope. Not quite that, a little more unnerving. It's a request for volunteers to be part of a clinical trial. Doesn't state what the clinical trial will be about, merely lists the compensation - a thousand dollars a week.

It lists other stipulations, and to contact someone named Marilyn by phone. Clinical trials are nothing new, so why does this feel so sinister. Especially when Valentine asked him what he actually knew about bioengineering. The answer? Literally nothing. But it seems to be what Umbrella is staking its next big thing on. At the heart of it? The Birkins and Bard. He knows it.

'Something interesting?' Valentine begins but Chris remains silent so as not to stop her train of thought. 'I've only gone through about five names so far of the people we have on the list, but so far after speaking to five of the family members, all five confirmed that the victim signed up for a clinical trial. One that was never discussed with them. They only found the waivers once all of the victim's stuff was sent back.'

'What?'

'Yeah and the waivers are confusing. So much legal bullshit that doesn't make a lot of sense. It's just to make things as convoluted as possible so the person reading it becomes lost in the language,' Jill explains and hands over an obvious fax of the waiver. Jesus, she works fast when she's on the hunt.

Chris skims the waiver, already lost in the legal bullshit within the first paragraph. He shoves the document back to her. 'You can read that shit?'

She absently shrugs. 'Well, yeah. I was partway through a law degree.'

Huh. Okay.

'I didn't peg you for a lawyer,' Chris admits and he watches her grow immediately uncomfortable and attempt to change the subject.

'Well, I'm not. I was in the Army, they were going to help pay for school. I need something to study and that just comes naturally to me. But life throws curveballs, I guess.'

What does that mean? Like a curveball as in she decided that's not what she wanted to do in the end or something else? Again, what the hell does he know about her anyway? Army, sure, the group told him she was in Delta force - fucking impressive. Personal life? She keeps everyone at arm's length. Even Brad hasn't managed to crack that facade. Incredible, considering how hard he was trying.

'Impressive.'

Valentine eyes him. 'Didn't realize it was that easy…'

Chris bites his tongue to refrain from saying something he shouldn't. 'So what do you think this clinic stuff means for the case?'

Valentine shrugs. 'I'm not too sure yet. Maybe nothing. But it is just a little…odd that some of the families confirm that their loved one signed up for these clinical trials without talking about it to them first.'

'What were the trials for? Do they know?' Chris wonders and Valentine is quiet for some time before answering him.

'Well, no. Not exactly. There was one family who took the waiver to a lawyer. Which was confirmed to be iron clad in Umbrella's favour. But from what he was able to decipher, the clinical trials were for people who were suffering from chronic illnesses. Whatever Umbrella was working on, they apparently had high hopes for this drug.

'All the families I spoke to, every loved one had some kind of chronic illness. So maybe their deaths were the result of bad trials.'

'Some of the vics date back three years ago, you think Umbrella has been working on this drug for that long?' Chris wonders, his mind trying to think of something that connects it all, however small it is.

Can this so-called miracle drug be the killer for that many people? Or is it something more sinister? A coverup? Like Celeste? Why is it that everything they discover about these cases just gets more and more convoluted? This adds another complex layer. And what do they even do with this information?

Use it to get into contact with the Birkins or Bard. Or possibly reopen all the cases that they've got dating back and see how many of them inadvertently signed up for this without even knowing?

Fuck, if they just somehow managed to get ahold of some survivor or someone who was in on the inside that could answer their questions…oh no…Chris sighs.

'What's wrong?' Valentine wonders. Chris shakes his head.

'I was just wondering what we could do to get more information. We won't be welcome back at Umbrella,' Chris reminds her and she opens her mouth to offer her suggestion but Chris beats her to it. 'Or the families. They're obviously under a gag order. So…I think we have to ask a certain…investigative reporter…'

Valentine seems surprised at his suggestion. 'Really? I didn't think you'd be so willing to ask for help.'

Chris leans back in his chair. No, that is true. He's not his first choice. But…Ben's reach is far greater than Umbrella's. He can acknowledge that.

'Ben is seedy enough that he can get to where we can't get to. Legally,' Chris replies and Valentine seems pleased by that. She frowns seconds later.

'Hmm, he's going to want to know what we're working on, we'd have to give him something. He won't do it for free, so to speak,' Valentine surmises and Chris sighs in agreement.

'You're right…' he acquiesced, already dreading the conversation that will occur with Ben. What could they give him so that he won't ask stupid questions and just dig in to what they need him to?

He didn't realize how devoid of human contact he's been until she embraced him in a fierce hug. Claire holds on tightly. He nearly has to push her off of him. She finally managed to get to him, after he insisted things weren't as bad as they were. Of course she knew him better than that.

How could she not? Claire insisted on coming by, he didn't really want her to. There was just something…he felt the need to shield Claire from Jill's state. Even though Jill hasn't really done anything the last couple of weeks anyway. She just…wasn't waking up. He couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing. Neither could the doctors. Even Choudry, she remained cautiously optimistic on the outside, saying Jill needed the rest and recovery.

But as he parroted Choudry's words in his and Jill's office at the BSAA, even he could tell Claire wasn't buying her words. They hadn't necessarily increased the sedative - thankfully, but as they carefully lowered the drug, milligrams at a time, he wondered if Jill just didn't have the fight in her anymore to combat the withdrawal symptoms.

That was a worrisome thought.

Chris reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a bottle of rye. Claire rolls her eyes.

'Before you go bitching me out? It's from years ago when Jill and I would get back late from some fucking job that was just bullshit - emotionally - and we just needed something.'

Claire folds her arms and eyes him with a sharp, silent look before relenting and holding her arm out. Chris passes her the bottle. 'The two of you and your codependent shit…'

Quickly taking a swing and making a face, she passes it back to Chris who merely points at her. 'Fuck off…'

Claire sits on his desk while he sits down in the chair and drinks from the bottle. 'How is she? I want to see her, Chris.'

'No, you don't. Trust me.'

Claire eyes him. 'Don't tell me what I want. You don't have to keep protecting me. I can make my own decisions.'

'It broke me. I don't want the same for you, Claire.'

'I'm here for you, dumbass. You don't have to keep pretending things are fine. They're not. Stop keeping things inside and acting like you're the only one who can deal with it. Let me help.'

Chris debates her answer, drinking from the bottle until Claire's fist comes into contact with his shoulder. Roughly. Yeah, well, the booze is hitting all the right spots currently. It's just so fucking easy to slip into old, bad habits.

He stops and looks over to her. He offers her the bottle and she takes it from him, not having any, just simply to take it. 'How does that not hit you instantly?'

Chris shrugs. 'High tolerance. Years of…years of destructive habits.'

Claire sighs and closes her eyes. 'You know that hurts me, right? You're my family, you're all I got left. You're not supposed to keep things from me. If something's bothering you, we're supposed to talk about it.'

Here we go again…he thinks. Claire was too young back then to understand what he was going through. Even now, he can't really tell her. There's a lot of unresolved trauma from their younger days. No point in dwelling on it now. She's turned out all right, that's all that matters to him.

'I can keep some things from you, you don't need to know everything. Also, why are you trying to pick a fight with me?' Chris wonders and Claire pinches the bridge of her nose.

'It's not a fight, this is me, as your sister, being concerned for my brother,' Claire informs him and he eyes her. He holds his arm out for the bottle, but she declines. Fine. He'll finish it later.

'Well, I appreciate it.'

'You don't sound convincing,' Claire remarks and he simply shrugs. 'I know you've been through hell. Talking about it will make you feel better.'

No it won't…because Jill isn't well yet…

'I don't know, Claire,' Chris sighs.

She caught him off guard when reception phoned his mobile asking if he could come up and meet Claire. Prior to this encounter, they'd been communicating via text. Well, correction. Claire had been the one constantly hammering texts at him, he was just selective when he responded. And he had thought she was with Kennedy in Washington. Maybe Wong was back in the picture again.

Topic for another time.

Or now. He's got all the time in the world.

Er, maybe later.

'If I have to pry these questions out of you, I will do that,' she reminds him and he looks up to her. She crinkles her nose. 'You aren't going to be drunk to answer my questions. For fuck sake, the bottle's nearly gone.'

Damn. How'd she know that was what he wanted? Maybe if he just…nope, Claire's moved the bottle when she caught him leaning towards it. She gives him a look that tells him she'll pour it on the floor before he has any. She'd better not. That was an expensive bottle.

'Claire, I love you, you're my sister - but I don't want to be doing this right now. I just need to get back down to the med offices.'

'Just tell me how she's doing. And I want to go with you.'

'No. You don't have the clearance,' Chris replies, not lying. That is the truth. Not many exceptions would be made. 'And…Jill's just…not doing much of anything. I think we're over the worst of it. I fucking hope we are.'

'What. Happened. In the beginning?' Claire begs and Chris stares off, not really wanting to remember that period of time.

'I was watching the love of my life detox from a drug she was forced to consume, unable to help her in any way. Her recovery was initially hindered by flashbacks to her being under Wesker's control. Every time she had a violent outburst, I feared I was losing her forever.

'She begged me…begged me, Claire, to end her suffering. In those lucid moments. She hated what was happening to her. What she was doing to those who were trying to help her. But her mind was so fractured and in a fog. And now she's just not doing anything. I think she's tired. Or given up. I don't know which yet.'

The emotion in his voice, how it cracks at certain points, destroys her. She puts her arm around his shoulders as Claire picks apart his words, unable to imagine Jill, the woman who she hung out with when she was younger and who grew to be one of her best friends in a position where she was helpless to dig herself out of. Not Jill Valentine. She survived RC. Why couldn't she survive this?

'Chris, I-...'

'Yeah, so that's why I won't let you see her. There's nothing to see,' Chris explains and Claire closes her eyes. There is a heavy silence if that falls on them, oppressive even. Doesn't help that Chris only turned on the desk lamp.

Every time she was in this office she always wanted to ask why the two of them shared one, but she could probably guess. Partners in every sense of the word. She knows exactly whose desk is whose. Chris and his chaotic filing system of leaving papers stacked on his desk. Utter disorganization but ask him to pull something from six months ago on a Tuesday, he'd have in seconds.

Counter to Jill's meticulous filing, nothing was left out on her desk, she could pull that same document from a Tuesday down to the hour it was handed to her. How odd they complement one another.

She only half jokes when she calls them codependent. She's seeing the side effects of it right now. One is lost without the other. At some point they also realized that while their partnership is unparalleled, it can get them into trouble with others. Why won't they work with anyone else? When they did, and not by choice, then no one was up to the calibre the other was used to. It led to resentment and anger amongst those they worked with.

So they tried to change that. They forced themselves to be apart. And it worked. Or at least, Claire thought it did. Inevitably there would be times when they'd trade missions with others at the BSAA because one missed the other.

That's what happened with the mission in Europe. The one where Jill vanished. Chris was supposed to be joined by someone else, but they'd been apart for some time and Jill had asked to switch with the other agent. Chris told Claire that he hadn't been expecting it. She was due to wrap up some training in Paris and then fly back home. Instead she surprised him. Not that he was complaining.

Until she was gone. Then he hated himself for having her there. Even if Claire constantly reminded him that had it not been Jill, he'd have been dead along with whoever was with him. Maybe, he had said to her. But at least Jill would've been alive.

'Claire? What if…what if she doesn't get better? What if she doesn't wake up? I had her…for like thirty-six hours. And things were normal again. But now? There's so much uncertainty and I worry she's just done.'

'Why are you doubting her?' She questions and Chris looks stunned. Then he frowns and gets defensive.

'I'm not. Why do you think that? I am allowed to have these thoughts. She can't fight forever. And I worry she's at her breaking point.'

Claire crosses her arms. 'I know it seems bad right now but don't give up on her. She'll pull through. It's Jill we're talking about.'

Claire ensures her words are firm. Because she worries and has doubts. How can you not when it involves anything to do with Wesker and Umbrella's legacy. They've all been roped into this. And while she's been able to distance herself somewhat since Raccoon City, she knows it's affected her brother and Jill the most.

They've charged themselves with ensuring that the remnants of Umbrella were thoroughly wiped clean from the world. But how do you wipe something clean that just mutates all the time? It just never goes away. And they're sacrificing so much to make sure it's stopped.

They have to be tired. Claire sighs.

Chris glances up to where she's sitting. 'What?'

She shrugs absently. 'Aren't you tired?'

'Yes.'

'Well, obviously. But I meant of this, uh, how do I want to phrase this? This life. This job. Aren't you tired?'

Chris stares off. 'Yeah. Of course I am. There's no way out. Every time you fight for a win, it's like…it doesn't even matter. Because the next problem is already here. Fuck Claire, Jill and I have our own life goals we want to achieve. We want to plan our future together that doesn't involve thinking about this or having to accommodate it.

'How we drop everything to be at the BSAA's beck and call when things start to go fucking sideways because, as we've been told, we just have the most experience - they'll know what to do. And you know what, sometimes we fucking don't. We have no idea. But we're the ones who have to pull it together and just fucking deal with it. Because no one else wants to take charge.

'It just…never feels like we'll be able to separate ourselves from this job. I want to, I have things I want to do. I wanna marry her, Claire.'

That statement shouldn't have taken Claire by surprise, but it did. It was the first time that he's ever vocally told her he wanted to marry Jill. She's always just assumed he would. Whenever they were ready to. Maybe it was the surprise he's holding off because of the uncertainty of work.

'The time will never be right, it never is. So just do it,' Claire encourages and she can see her words just go right through him.

He's talking because drinking so fast has allowed him to numb himself to emotions he would usually only talk to Jill about.

'Maybe one day,' Chris responds and Claire shakes her head, instead she hugs him tightly, throwing her arm around his shoulders.

Chris turns over Claire's words in his mind.

It's Jill we're talking about.

Yeah, it's Jill, and she can take on the world - hell she pulled herself out of the mind control fog. But why doesn't that make him feel better? Why does he worry so much? Fear of the unknown, probably.

The bitter irony of losing her, getting her back only to lose her once again. When? When will this nightmare be over?

It's hard not to keep the smirk from his face as he takes a drink of the beer once it's set down in front of him. The sour look on Ben's face is too funny. He doesn't even drink from the beer bottle, instead choosing to pick at the label. Yeah, it gets funnier every time he thinks about it.

'You seem overly dejected. What's up? You don't like my company?' Chris questions and Ben scowls at him from behind the bottle once he finally decides to take a drink.

'Your company wasn't what I was promised,' Ben counters and Chris merely shrugs.

'Plans change. Besides, it's been ages since we talked.'

'Well, I'd like to have been informed of changes.'

'Why? So you could change your mind and not show up?'

Ben glowers once more. He was supposed to be meeting Jill. At least that's what she said on the phone. He did have scraps of information to give her. But only more questions. What she had initially asked for was tough to secure. And quite out of left field. She needed help with something and her compliments of his journalism skills only made him feel better, like he was the only one who could help her.

'Well, now I don't know if I wanna share what I've found,' Ben crosses his arms and doesn't miss the look on Chris's face that falls flat. That, uh, may not have been the best thing to say. He forgets how little patience Chris has sometimes.

'I'd like to think you'll reconsider that,' Chris warns and Ben closes his eyes in defeat.

'Why'd you wanna know this stuff anyway? You know how hard it was to get some of this info? I had to call in so many favours - things I could've used for other pieces I wanna write.'

'We're just pursuing a potential lead. That's all.'

Ben seems mightily unimpressed with that option. 'That's what you're going with?'

'You want me to give you the standard response?'

Ben concedes. 'No.'

'Good, so tell me what you've found.'

Ben debates saving the discoveries until he can see Jill Valentine as was promised but the fear of crossing Chris Redfield scares him that little bit extra. So he sighs and just reaches into his backpack and retrieves a bunch of notes.

'I hope you realize that this has cost me a fluff piece on Umbrella now,' Ben laments and groans. 'They're so terrible, how can anyone write anything flattering?'

'I dunno, write about the donation to the orphanage they made last year.'

Ben doesn't seem convinced but nonetheless pushes forward a bunch of handwritten notes in barely legible script. Chris picks them up and attempts to decipher the writing. It's difficult, obviously written in a haste so he eyes Ben to get on with the description.

Ben tells him about a friend he has working in Umbrella, though doesn't mention in what capacity. But somewhere middle management. Not enough to make major decisions but close enough to the action on projects and direction and big decisions. Chris is impressed. He and Jill only gave Ben a list of four victims that they were potentially looking at. Not the whole group, that may rouse too much suspicion. But a couple of people from the beginning, a few in the middle and one the most recent. Excluding Celeste.

Ben's source did know all of them. They worked in various departments around Umbrella. Maintenance, the labs, security, the likes. All nice people, good at their jobs, so it was a surprise when they turned up dead, but according to Ben's source, not surprising. From what he had been privy to hearing, which wasn't a lot, and it caught him off guard since he usually heard from the bigwigs about anything like that, but Ben's source felt as though things were unusually hush hush.

All of the victims that Ben brought forward had suffered from chronic illnesses - later revealed to them. One of the lead scientists wanted to shift their focus to tackling chronic illnesses - noble of them. The scientist wasn't named by Ben's source sadly, only that he wanted to work on that because it hit close to the family.

The scientist convinced all of them to participate in an internal study. He had developed a series of injections that may help or at least lessen the symptoms. They were told not to advise their families and forced to sign a strict non disclosure agreement. Umbrella's lawyers had them sign under duress.

The only reason Ben's source saw this was because of the daily parade the participants had to do as they passed by his office. Until he noticed one of them was missing. That was two days after the first injection. Two days after that, another one was missing. And the next day? The remaining two were gone.

Within that week Umbrella had given staggered bereavement announcements. Cause of death was not listed. Just that all had unexpectedly passed away. One guy's wife came in, somehow - that's why security was tightened - and demanded an explanation into the chain of events. Her husband wasn't himself in the last days of his life. And he wouldn't speak to her about it. She only found a page of his journal. Only one. With vague statements. Ben's source managed to transcribe the letter as it was passed around - with a warning to his side that he was to report any of these symptoms to management immediately. No matter who displayed them.

I don't know what I've agreed to. This wasn't as I was told. I feel sick. Flu-like symptoms. My mind has been hazy and unable to focus. I am weak, I black out. Sometimes for seconds, other times for minutes. A strange welt has appeared on my forearm. And every day my skin grows itchier. I hope this is nothing more than manageable side effects but I fear it isn't…

Ben said that the upper crust at Umbrella panicked at the journal entry. The lawyers came out, PR firms worked overtime. And still no one would say a damned thing. No one knew what this was regarding.

Symptoms of what? What did they take that was so bad the end result was death? It just happened to everyone. They all just died. No police investigations, no meetings, just silence. It was almost disturbing. Even the scientists working on the supposed miracle cure for chronic illnesses said nothing. Bard, the loudmouth, holier than thou asshole was mum. For a period. There was this weird heavy cloud over Umbrella - no one knew how to describe it. People walked on eggshells around everyone. At least for a time. Whispers in the hall started about what really happened to those employees - until they were squashed. Vigorously. Anyone so much as breathed a word they were hauled up and that was that. Some were terminated, others reprimanded. It was a strange time.

Until one day, it was though Umbrella decided that was enough moping. Time to get back to work. Whatever that meant. And life continued on as normal.

It was the last they saw of the in-house drug trials.

Chris stares in awe. Quite the story. If true. Though he didn't have a reason to doubt it. The trials…he wonders if Umbrella simply decided that in house people would draw too much attention and they switched to getting locals. Possibly students who needed a little extra cash, or someone working a low paying job saw this as an opportunity to get easy money for little work.

'And your source didn't think to come forward with this information?' Chris questions and Ben shrugs.

'What do you want me to say, Redfield? Umbrella's hold on this city is tight. Like an iron fist in a velvet glove.'

Chris sighs. This is a lot of good information. Just more ammo to try and get search warrants. He doesn't know how that would work, though. What could they have to go on? Rumours and speculation. What could they try to get through documents? Communications? Phone logs? Doubtful. Interviews? Even less likely. He wonders if this means he's gotta run things by Irons first. He doesn't want to. Irons will flat out reject that or stymie him.

'How long has your source been with Umbrella?'

'Over ten years,' Ben replies and slowly reaches forward to take back his documents. Surprisingly, Chris doesn't stop him.

So the information would be good. Or at least, less prone to being made up. There is a culture of fear internally at Umbrella. The more he learns about them, the more he's inclined to believe that all this good will charity and generic drug making are nothing but a front. Then again, maybe he's just paranoid.

There is no definitive statement of wrongdoing. Just a pile of coincidences as compelling as they may be. Dead employees. Chronic illnesses. One drug trial. And death. So where does Celeste fit into all this, if at all? A lot of avenues. With Umbrella being the end of it all, but how does it connect?

Ben finishes off the rest of his beer, clearly intent on leaving Chris to his thoughts. Wherever he thinks the S.T.A.R.S team is going with this, it's gotta be good. The people he had to have his contact in Umbrella speak to made it seem like this was some kind of conspiracy theory. And that Umbrella was purposefully drugging and testing on their employees. Ludicrous. Umbrella might be trashy but that seems unfathomable. Even for them.

'Well, this has been fun. We really should not do this again,' Ben rises from the table and Chris gives him a nod.

'Thanks for the info,' Chris replies and Ben stops in confusion since he was certain Chris wouldn't thank him for all the hard work he put into getting this shit for him.

'Don't ask me for any more favours. At least not for a while.'

'Noted.'

Ben begins the motion of getting money out of his wallet but Chris stops him. He seemed surprised at the offer of covering the beer. Not one to argue at free drinks, Ben hastily retreats and Chris remains at the table, slowly drinking from the lukewarm beer as he turns over Ben's story in his mind. Umbrella is at the centre of this. But how can they tie them to these deaths? Or the conspiracy to cover it up. Where do the answers lie? Probably not with the Brikins or Bard in the way he wants them to. No, they'd simply cover the other. Maybe the answers lie in the employees themselves. No doubt someone knows something that made them uncomfortable. But how to break the barrier?

Unless they come back with some hardcore evidence or anything less than a tight motive, they won't be welcomed back onsite - he can almost hear Valentine's approval in his head. Not after his display when they spoke to Annette. He finishes the rest of his beer and rises from the table to pay.

He has a feeling that this case is going to be long. It could take years to build it into something where they can finally go after Umbrella. It's not the time he's afraid of investing, it's the time they'll invest only to have Umbrella beat any and all charges.

It was an angle he must admit he didn't think of. One of Irons' spies had been in the same bar as he was last week with Ben. Imagine getting into work on Monday, trying to plan a time to go over what Ben said with Valentine, only to have Irons hunt them down and haul his ass to the office.

And now listening to Irons drone on and on about the image he's giving by fraternizing with a lousy reporter like Ben would do irreparable harm to the force's image. Couple things wrong with that assessment, Irons doesn't care about the image of the force much less his role in the force. Irons has said many times that there isn't anything he can do to control Chris. Other than keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't get away with too much.

Also the fact that on more than one occasion, Irons has used Ben's reach to get dirt on political rivals for friends or himself - when, about five years ago, Irons position was challenged by a newcomer who didn't like the way he was managing things.

Neither did Irons appreciate his role being challenged. According to the lifers on the force, the new guy - Adam King - was resonating with some of the dissatisfied members on the force, and Irons didn't like that. He went to Ben to do a little digging. No one could prove whether or not Irons bribed Ben to investigate, but Ben certainly isn't one to do anything without it benefiting him in some way.

Some on the force remember the article when it came out. Ben had tricked King into accepting an invite to speak under the guise of wanting to do a piece of the person who would dare challenge RC's devoted chief of police.

Instead, Ben confronted King with his ties with a foreign agent while he was a lieutenant in an Oregon police force. Obviously taken off guard, King had explained that he was not aware, at the time of meeting this person, they were a foreign agent. Even as King attempted to explain that he had been cleared by the FBI and immediately severed all ties when he was made aware fell on deaf ears.

Ben easily glossed over that fact, or buried in the fine print and the story blew up. People talked about it for weeks and King couldn't salvage his reputation after that. Irons pounced on the foreign agent angle. Pleaded to the public and the force about trust and leadership. All qualities Irons didn't have but King couldn't convince people otherwise. He couldn't sway them after that and about a month after the initial story was published, King dropped his challenge to Irons. Six months after that, he resigned and left the force. Travelling out east somewhere. No one heard from him again. And Irons kept his position.

'Do you have any questions, Redfield?'

Irons' voice snaps him back into reality. Well, he wasn't really listening too closely. Hopefully just an agreement will make Irons shut up and he can be on his way.

'Yeah, do you want us to investigate these murders or what?'

Irons leans back in his chair, carefully eyeing him. 'What the fuck does that mean?'

'Means you keep getting in our way when we're trying to follow the evidence. I don't give a fuck if it leads us to Umbrella or anyone else. We will follow it and whoever it implicates.'

Irons doesn't seem to like that comment because he leans forward, gripping the lip of his desk. 'Listen to me very carefully, Redfield. There are forces at play here that are bigger than you or me-...'

Chris interrupts him. 'Yeah it's called Umbrella. I don't know why everyone is always so keen to defend them. They do barely legal shit all the time and everyone bends over backwards to kiss their ass. If they have anything to do with these murders, I'll make sure that the law will punish them. Without or with you and your enablers' help.'

A tension passes between them. The vein on the side of Irons' head pulses slightly. Irons must know that he's aware Umbrella is involved in illegal activities and that no matter how small the breadcrumbs are, he will investigate each one thoroughly.

'Umbrella is a respectable company. They do good things for this city, Redfield. They employ nearly thirty percent of the people in this city. It'd be a shame if they were forced to look for an alternative city to continue to operate. All because of one person who can't seem to let things go.

'The evidence doesn't point to anything Umbrella related. It's all in your head. Now focus on the real culprit or I'm moving you to permanent desk duty.'

Chris struggles to keep his temper in check. 'Are you threatening me?'

Irons leans back in his chair and opens a desk drawer, fishing out a cigarette and lighting it. 'I would never threaten anyone. I merely make promises.'

'A chunk of the cold case victims worked for Umbrella, died under mysterious circumstances - an employee confirmed they were ill after participating in a drug trial and you think that I am making this up? That I'm seeing things that aren't there? Are you fucking nuts?'

Irons says nothing as the curl of smoke winds itself into the air for seconds before he takes a deep drag of it. Chris hates the smell of this brand, no matter where he is or who is smoking it, it always reminds him of Irons. Cheap and disgusting.

'Exactly, do you see how that makes absolutely no sense?'

'It makes perfect sense - they were forced into a drug trial they didn't want to be a part of, it went fucking sideways and either they died as a result of side effects or Umbrella silenced them. Which one sounds more plausible to you? Do some detective work for once.'

Irons doesn't seem to take the slight from Chris. Just drags deeply on that cheap ass cigarette. 'Your theory makes no sense. Why would Umbrella kill people who participated in their trials? See how that literally makes no sense? Trials fail all the time. Hardly worth killing participants over it.'

'Exactly, so why did they all just seem to die, coincidentally after the trial?' Chris replies and Irons bangs his fists on his desk.

'Enough! This, this theory, or whatever you call it, is bullshit. It makes no sense. Not rooted in reality. It's spurious. Trail was a bust and unfortunately, the people that participated in it died from other circumstances. That's it. How many fucking times do I have to repeat it?'

'Until you believe it. It's suspicious as hell.'

'It isn't. I do not want to hear another word, another theory that uses that as its base. Umbrella is not involved. End of story.'

Irons has leaned back in his chair and Chris can see that this isn't going anywhere, they're merely going around in circles. Irons defending the hell out of Umbrella, quashing any hope they have of using him to help get them into places they need to be in.

'I'm telling you, this case has trouble written all over it. There are way too many shady things happening behind the scenes to ignore.'

Irons eyes Chris and stands, pointing to the door. 'Then you will ignore them. Get out.'

Quite the slip up, but Chris does as he's told.

Without getting to Umbrella's people, this case is dead in the water. They need someone to crack so they can start getting the pieces filled in on the people who participated in the trial, with or without their consent, otherwise the digging for information is going to take forever. And then to tie it to the current murders? If there was a tie at all, it would take even longer. Fuck. So do they shelve the Umbrella connection and just focus on the current murders? Maybe he should talk to Valentine. See what she prefers. Doesn't mean they can't keep up what they're doing.

Irons waits until he hears the heavy stomp of Redfield leaving before he gets up from his desk and goes to the door, shutting and locking it. Igniting a cigarette he paces, nerves getting worse. He's gotta find a way to quell their investigation. They're picking up the crumbs and it's leading them down a very dangerous but accurate path. Does he pull them both off and give them alternates? That'd feed into their narrative about corruption. Irons walks to the ashtray on his desk and stubs the cigarette out. Immediately he reaches into his pocket to produce another. He brings the match to his mouth and inhales, shaking the match out.

How does he control those two? Because like it or not, even though they may loathe the other…they do work incredibly well together. He continues to pace. Trying to find a remedy to this situation.