Sherry blinked a few times, feeling her heart speed up and her throat close up. Deep down, she didn't think he would really take off his mask, deep down, she thought she was wrong, that he wasn't who she thought he was, that it was all just a big coincidence and that she would just come off as awkward, maybe create a bit of an uncomfortable mood, but nothing more.

However, she couldn't hold back the tears that started streaming down her face, she felt a little breathless, and her chest was filled with buried, confused and mixed feelings.

She didn't know whether to hug him or slap him across the face. She didn't know whether to cry over years of repressed feelings right there or run out of that room as soon as possible, never wanting to look at that face that had occupied so many of her dreams.

His blond hair, a little longer than she remembered, still in the same style, covered his right eye almost completely and now hit just below the nape of his neck. It had been a while since he'd cut it.

His face was still beautiful, more handsome than she thought he'd be. When she'd first seen him, she'd thought he was some kind of model, and as it turned out, he'd gotten better with time. His skin was now marked with a few scars, one below his left eye, another on the side of his forehead, marks that didn't make his features any less attractive.

All things considered, he didn't seem to have changed much.

But what had certainly changed during that time were his eyes. That blue she remembered as so fiery, so alive with such a comfortable warmth now no longer felt the same. They were as cold as ice, dull, without even a trace of that warmth. As if he were just another empty shell, so different...

His features, even if they showed the slightest hint of nervousness at that moment, were still so cold compared to years ago.

Sherry opened and closed her mouth a few times... she didn't know exactly what to say, she didn't know if she should say anything even though she had so much she wanted to scream.

All those nights she'd slept with Claire for fear of sleeping alone, still feeling exposed for not having him there, for having no idea where he'd gone. All those times she'd asked to sleep with Chris and he hadn't given her the feeling of security he should have.

All those times she'd cried in hiding so as not to upset Claire or Chris... all the times she'd seen Claire do the same...

Ghost, for his part, was in a similar situation. He didn't know exactly what they'd been through, only that they'd wandered for a long time on their own until he could finally send that email to Chris, but he was sure it hadn't been easy.

There was no way... he had to be there to help them, to be there for them...

"... Why?" The question she had always wanted to ask him, if she ever had the chance to meet him again. "What happened to you, why did you...?" She opened her mouth, but couldn't finish her question.

Ghost continued to stare at her for some time, thinking about what to say. After a few years of training, he had stopped thinking about what he would say to them if he ever met them again.

That day never seemed to come, more and more that hope in his chest disappeared, and discipline, duty, cruelty concealed his feelings.

He felt lost, he regretted taking off his mask. It was so easy for him to simply ignore her. So easy to just turn around and walk out of that room, so easy to kick her out... so why...?

Feelings... he had gone so long without such human reactions that he had forgotten the meaning of the word, forgotten what his body was capable of expressing. Something other than pain.

"... For your safety, I can't say." He replied, and Sherry's body shivered. His voice, now not muffled by the mask, was so lifeless... he was like a robot.

"You can't say? Don't you think you owe us an explanation? Answers?" She asked, and he just kept staring at her, making Sherry wipe the tears from her face with angry hands.

"Do you know what we've been through? Do you know how long we walked alone?!" She raised her voice, pushing Ghost by the shoulder.

"How much we worried about you?!" She pushed him again, and Ghost took a step back. Not from the force, but from the pressure. He felt he deserved it.

"How much have we cried not knowing where you've gone?!" She pushed him again.

"How much we wish you were with us?!" Again.

"Do you know how many times we've woken up crying in the middle of the night?!" Again.

Ghost felt his back being thrown against the wall, felt Sherry's punches on his chest, and he just let her, he didn't react, she should get it off her chest, and he deserved that guilt.

Sherry stared deep into his eyes, waiting for an answer, which never came. That empty look broke her heart, and the tears flowed harder. She began to gasp and lowered her head, mentally scolding herself for crying like a child in front of him.

Ghost opened his mouth slightly, his eyes widening a little. He hated seeing her like this, hated knowing that he was the cause of her suffering. He never wanted that, he just wanted the best for them.

A good life, away from all that shit, where they wouldn't have to suffer again.

"Don't cry for me, Redfield. I don't deserve it." He said, trying to keep his tone as professional as possible, but failing.

Sherry continued to cry for some time, until she let out something like a nasal laugh, choked with tears. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were red, her cheeks a little swollen.

For some reason, this hurt Ghost's heart, and he didn't quite know how to react. It was as if he was experiencing being human for the first time.

"I may deserve your anger... but not your tears." He said it again, and Sherry rested her hands on his chest, feeling the scars under his clothes.

There were so many... and that just filled her with more questions.

"... I'm not angry with you." She said, taking him by surprise. "Frustrated, nervous, maybe a little sad, worried... but not angry."

Well, he certainly hadn't expected that.

"Why can't you tell?" She asked, and Ghost took a deep breath. Well, technically, he could.

"Because it doesn't matter." He replied, and Sherry wiped away her tears with her trembling hands, staring at Ghost with an arched eyebrow.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" She asked, and Ghost looked away. Admittedly, it wasn't his best answer.

"I didn't leave because I wanted to, if that's what you think." He said shortly afterwards, and Sherry shook her head.

"Yeah, we... kind of knew... it wouldn't have made sense for you to risk your life like that, to save our lives only to leave later." She said, her voice hoarse, a little lower. "Then why?"

He leaned his head on the wall. Would it matter if he told? Would it make a difference if he didn't? Could it cause any consequences in the future?

Maybe, maybe not...

In the end, he sighed, and his legs could no longer support his body. He didn't feel weak, but at the same time, he didn't feel as if he could stand up.

Emotions... amazing how something so silly could bring him down so easily.

Sherry followed him to the ground, still keeping her hands on his chest.

Once again, Ghost shook his head. Again he was ignoring his agent side, and that worried him. He couldn't be weak now, he couldn't develop any weakness.

Feelings were worrying, they caused damage, a weakness, a distraction that he couldn't have.

The right decision would have been to simply stop there, turn around and leave the room as soon as possible, to ignore the girl's advances.

It was so easy...

But so difficult.

"... You don't remember... but that day, the day I disappeared, we were found by this group. William's group." He began, and Sherry blinked a few times. "You were hit with a special kind of tranquilizer. That's why you don't remember anything."

He propped one of his arms on his knee, listening to his agent side scream in his mind. Fuck it, now he would go all the way.

"They knew about us, they knew we were Raccoon survivors." He noticed the confusion in the girl's eyes. "They received a recording from one of the agents they had. He was responsible for documenting the virus and its mutations. He had a recording of everything. From the police station, the parking lot, the sewer, the laboratory..."

He sighed.

"They... wanted to hire me to work with them. They wanted me to become an agent, basically what I am today."

"And you accepted... well, considering what you were like, it was an obvious decision. But why hit me and Claire with tranquilizers?" Sherry asked, and Ghost cracked the bones in his neck.

"Because you're still infected." Sherry's eyes widened slightly in surprise, her mouth ajar... she looked surprised, but at the same time, she didn't seem that affected.

"... Claire and I had some side effects from the virus, yes, but we're no longer infected. You took the antidote yourself." She argued, and Ghost shook his head.

"Yes, but you're still infected. The antidote only made the virus inert, unable to act on your bodies. It's still there, at such small levels that it's practically impossible for you to suffer any reaction." Sherry lowered her head slightly, staring at the floor.

"So... does that mean there's any chance of me or Claire becoming immortal monsters?!" She asked.

"Of course not, the virus has become part of you. It's what you are. Hence your regeneration."

Sherry shook her head.

"Well, that explains it." She said, sighing and then looking at him, waiting for him to continue.

"William created this organization with one motive in mind. To exterminate all viruses from the face of the earth, everything related to bio-terrorism, to eliminate all organizations, all bio-terrorists... everything. And that included both of you." Sherry's eyes widened.

"What?!"

"I made a deal. I would join their organization, I would be their soldier, complete their training and follow their orders without a second thought. In return, any and all data on the two of you would be erased, they would protect you, make sure no one came after you, and you would be safe." Sherry blinked once more, her eyes staring deep into Ghost's

She opened her mouth again, but no sound came out. What could she say? All those scars, the unimaginable things he'd had to do, what he'd become... it was because of them...

Her heart was beating so hard that it sounded like drums in her chest.

"... Leon..." He shook his head and raised his hand in front of his body, signaling her to stop. He knew, he could see it in her eyes.

"I made a choice. And I had reasons for making it. Don't feel bad, don't feel guilty, there's no point." Sherry snorted.

"It doesn't? You've wasted a whole life, Leon." He held her hands as he stood up, helping her to do the same, both of them maintaining eye contact, trying to ignore the heat of physical contact.

"Maybe, but you and Claire have won the chance of a normal life. That young cop wouldn't think twice about trading his life for yours." He said, letting go of the girl's arms, even though his insides screamed against it, and walked towards the table, glancing once more at the screen in front of him.

Hunk was sneaking through the metal that held up the roof of the place. Just below was the target. Alex Wesker, looking nervous and agitated as she tried to bring her equipment back to life.

"What about the agent now?" Sherry asked, approaching at a slow pace and standing right next to him. "Don't you want a normal life?"

He seemed to think for a while, his eyes staring unfocused as Hunk shot Alex, descending to the ground shortly afterwards in a great leap.

A normal life... he'd never stopped to think about it since becoming an agent.

"I'm no longer suited to a normal life, Redfield. What I am, what I've become... I was created to fight a war, not to live in peace." He said, leaning on the table as he watched Alex's body writhing on the floor, and her getting up even with bullet holes all over her body.

She moved, quickly, but her veins and skin were becoming darker and darker, thanks to the little poison in those bullets.

"Is that what you want? To live the rest of your life fighting?" Sherry asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

She almost didn't recognize him.

"If it means putting an end to all this shit and creating a better life not just for you or Claire, but for the whole world, then yes." He replied, and Sherry sighed with some regret.

"Really? Back on that island you told me you were going to go after all the corrupt people after killing Wesker. You're going to take down Umbrella, the black market customers, our own government, everything... in the midst of all your plans, in the midst of all your missions, have you ever stopped to think about the after?" His serious voice made Ghost lower his head, he swallowed some saliva as his mind was flooded with thoughts.

His goal was to end everything related to bio-terrorism and that was that, he didn't have to waste time thinking about nonsense like "afterwards." It only clouded his thoughts and his focus on the missions.

Sherry lowered her head in silence.

"Look, Leon-"

"Don't call me by that name." He interrupted her, his voice still low, but his tone somewhat cold. "He's dead. I'm Ghost now. Or call me Agent, if you like." Hearing that made her sad.

She didn't know what kind of training he'd had, but considering what he'd said at the airport, it was probably inhuman.

Or maybe it was just the constant missions he was forced to do.

"It's hard to believe that you're the same cop who saved me. You seem... so... empty. It's as if you've accepted that your life can be summed up in just one thing and to hell with the rest." She said, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"I'm a soldier. What matters is accomplishing the mission. I don't have time, let alone the luxury of self-preservation." He said, crossing his arms as he watched Hunk fight Alex. The woman looked slower and slower, weaker and weaker... the poison was working its way through her body.

It was only a matter of time before she died.

And as he watched, he could feel the girl's incredulous gaze on him. He didn't know why she was so surprised. A soldier is created to do his duty, if his death is necessary for that purpose, then so be it.

"Really? Is that what you think?" Sherry asked, indignant.

"Death can have me when the time comes. If I die while performing a mission, Hunk will be ready to take over. The same otherwise." Sherry sighed.

"Le... argh... Ghost, this is no way to live. It's not fair that I'm living my dream while you're out there, being treated like a pawn." He snorted in a nasal laugh and glared at her.

"Does it bother you that I think little of life?"

"Can't I worry about the life of the man who saved me?" she asked back, and Ghost lowered his gaze.

"If it bothers you so much, Redfield-"

"Sherry... call me Sherry." She interrupted him, and he turned to the girl.

"If it bothers you so much, Sherry, you can do something to make me happy." He began, putting his mask back on his face. This conversation had to end as soon as possible, he didn't know how long he could go on like this without feeling at the girl's total mercy. "Live your life, travel with your friends, meet new people, have fun, be happy... enjoy the opportunity that rookie cop has given you, and enjoy it well, and I promise you I'll do my best to keep it that way."

She stared into his eyes, his face now covered by that damn mask. Seeing him like that, so resigned to his own death, so oblivious to the pleasures of a real life, was one of the worst fates that could befall the man who had done so much to save her.

She swallowed some saliva, feeling her throat begin to close up. She didn't feel like she could carry on a conversation, it was too much information, too many mixed feelings.

So she chose to just leave.

Ghost turned to the screen again, watching Hunk plunge the machete into Alex's neck, watching him decapitate the woman and burn her body as a guarantee that she would stay down, while hearing the girl's footsteps moving away.

"Don't tell Claire." He said loudly, shortly after Sherry opened the door, and the girl turned around, staring at his back.

"She deserves to know as much as I do."

"She doesn't need to know, especially not now." Sherry clucked her tongue in mild irritation.

"She's suffered a lot because of your disappearance, you didn't see her, I had to stand by her side whenever she had a panic attack, or I had to watch quietly when she pretended everything was fine!" He turned around, still with his arms crossed.

"All the more reason for her not to know. It's better that she thinks that cop is dead. That way she can enjoy her life more." Sherry reached for the door handle.

"She's lost a lot of people, a lot of friends. It took her a long time to get better and even longer to open her heart. That monster you killed? It was her boyfriend. It's going to take her a long time to get better, and even longer to open her heart again, if she even manages to get better this time. Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, that sweet officer could show up one more time and help her with that?"

Sherry closed the door, leaving Ghost trapped in his own thoughts as he kept his gaze fixed on where the girl was...

Slowly, he lowered his head, thoughtful...

He couldn't let Leon come back once more, he was dead and buried, he had to be...

But deep down, he felt sensations that he thought he had buried with that cop.

You... you're getting weak... what a disappointment.

Claire grunted slightly as she woke up. Her body felt a little numb, but she didn't feel any pain, which was something. She kept her eyes closed for a while, feeling her senses normalize.

She was in a bed, that much was clear, in a hospital ward by the smell of it. There was someone sitting right next to the bed, probably fighting sleep due to the calm, rhythmic breathing.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times until she got used to the brightness. She looked around, recognizing the medical wing of the BSAA.

Next to her was Chris, sitting in a chair that looked rather uncomfortable, arms crossed and eyes closed. She only knew he was awake because his eyes were blinking.

She grunted uncomfortably as her throat felt dry. Her mind quickly turned to the events on that island, and she grimaced, grunting once more. She definitely didn't want to think about that shit right now.

With luck, maybe never again.

"Claire? Oh, good. You woke up earlier than the doctors said." His voice was hoarse, and he looked tired. He certainly hadn't slept since he'd arrived.

Typical Redfield behavior. She'd smile if she didn't feel like shit.

"You're beat." She tried to joke, and Chris let out a nasal laugh, leaning on his thigh.

His face was still bandaged, as was his stomach, his forearm... she suspected he should be in bed by now.

"You're the one in a hospital bed." Chris said, and Claire looked at his body. Her leg and torso were bandaged, but she didn't feel any pain.

"What happened?" she said, accepting the glass of water that Chris held out towards her.

"The mixture you drank knocked you out. But we managed to get off that island without too much trouble." Claire sighed and closed her eyes.

"Yeah, he kind of said something like that." Chris shook his head.

"Yeah, and he also said that you wanted to go after Alex." Claire turned her face to face him, only to find her brother with that typical serious expression when he was worried or about to scold her. "I'll spare us both the scolding, and just thank him for not helping you with this madness."

Claire clucked her tongue. At the moment, she didn't feel anger, just... distress, sadness... but at that moment, on that island, she was angry, she wanted so badly to go after Alex and blow her head off with that shotgun. Now she realized that it wasn't exactly a good idea.

"That's good... I'm not really in the mood for being grounded right now."

"But we'll talk about it. I've sent your things to my place. Sherry's too, you'll both be in my line of sight from now on and I don't want to hear any complaints." He said authoritatively, which resulted in a sincere smile from the woman.

Same old Chris.

"Yeah, I kind of expected that. What happened to Alex?"

"She's dead. Ghost came a few minutes ago to hand me photos of her decapitated." Chris said, placing a tablet on Claire's stomach, who took the object and looked with empty eyes at the woman's decapitated and burnt body. "The island has been destroyed, they did a sweep of the area and found that none of the infected managed to escape, it's all behind us now."

It was great news, too bad she couldn't really feel anything from it. She just put the tablet down again and rested her head on the pillow, staring at the white ceiling.

"... Why does this shit keep happening?" She asked no one in particular, thinking to herself out loud. "What's in it for her? All those people, all those deaths... for what? All that work only to be killed by masked agents."

"I don't know what her plans were, but I'm glad they didn't come to light. There's no point thinking about what could have been, what wasn't, in the end, she paid for what she did. I think we can only be grateful that she won't be able to kill anyone anymore." Chris said, and Claire swallowed some saliva.

She would never forget the family she had killed... her little sin... her own demon that would occupy her thoughts, her dreams and take over her life in the future.

"Yeah... maybe." She said, feeling Chris stare at her for a while. He seemed to want to say something, but held back.

Good, she didn't want to be comforted at the moment, nothing in the world could do that.

"Well... now that you're awake, I'm going to get some sleep." He said, taking the tablet back. "The doctor said you'll be limping for a while, but all things considered, it's almost a miracle that your leg is still in one piece. Rest up, we'll talk later." Claire shook her head and watched him walk away towards the door.

Before he left, he turned and his now sympathetic eyes looked at her lightly.

"Things will get better, Claire... one day, they will." That's all he said before leaving the room.

Claire sighed once more as she stared at the white ceiling. Things were going to get better... but not fast enough.

She no longer believed that the world would ever be at peace, she doubted that it would ever end... with each passing day, that hope seemed more and more futile.

She lay there for another hour, until she finally decided to get up. She couldn't bear to lie there with nothing but her thoughts, she didn't want to think about Niel, she didn't want to think about Alex, she didn't want to think about that island... nothing.

She looked down at her hospital clothes and ran a hand through her hair. She hated hospitals... she couldn't remember the last time she had been in one.

The woman left the room and looked around. It was still dark and the corridors were empty, except for a few nurses.

She turned and walked calmly down the empty corridor, ignoring the distant whispers and occasional grunts until she reached the canteen.

There, she found Parker leaning against the wall next to the cabinet waiting for his food to be ready.

Their eyes met as she entered the room.

"Ah, little Redfield. Good to see you're all right." He said amiably, and Claire smiled politely. He also looked a little tired, but better than Chris.

"Hey, Parker... thanks for going with Chris, you know? Thanks for coming to my rescue." She thanked him, stopping next to the small table in the center of the room.

Parker just waved his hand.

"Nah, no need to thank me. You needed help, and I helped, simple as that." He said, and she smiled slightly, grateful that people like him still existed.

She walked over to a cabinet and grabbed three protein bars. She didn't feel like cooking anything, much less did she feel comfortable doing it at the BSAA, maybe after she got home.

"What are you still doing up? It's almost 3 in the morning." She asked, taking a generous bite of her first protein bar.

"I was cleaning my guns and getting some more ammo. I thought I'd do some quick target practice with more targets. That horde nearly screwed us." Parker said, picking up his food and sitting down at the table soon after.

"Horde?" Claire asked, and Parker looked at her with slightly wide eyes.

"Oh... Chris didn't tell you, did he? Well, shit, don't tell him I told you. Let's just say that Alex didn't want to let us off easy and sent a small army after us." Parker explained, and Claire sighed. Of course he wouldn't say.

"Well, sorry for being a dead weight then."

"Oh come on Claire, it's not like that. We managed to get out, nobody died, so in the end it all worked out... as far as it went." He said, and Claire shook her head.

It still wasn't enough.

"But I'll tell you, that agent, Ghost, I've never seen anyone move like him. Fuck, it was like he knew everything those infected would do, it was carnage." Parker said, and Claire blinked a few times, curious.

"What's his fighting style?" She asked. He really did move in a fluid way. She didn't see much of him, but it was admirable, and perhaps a little stupid, for him to run headfirst into biological weapons.

"No idea, it seems to be a mixture of several different styles. I can't tell. But whatever it was, it was like watching a monster kill other monsters." Parker said, concentrating on his food again.

Claire threw down the wrapper of the two protein bars she'd already eaten and opened the third, thoughtfully.

A monster killing monsters, huh?

"Well... good thing he's on our side then." Claire said, throwing the last package in the trash. "Thanks again, Parker. I'm going to take a walk before I go back to my room."

"No problem, Redfield. Take care." Parker said, waving his hand towards Claire, who soon came out of the small canteen.

She took a deep breath as she felt the icy air on her skin, and she made her way through the corridors, with no apparent direction, just wanting to walk, to distract herself a little, not to let her mind slow down too much.

And the next thing she knew, she found herself walking towards the private training ground. This place was used by Chris and his team; only authorized members could enter it.

She smiled as she passed in front of it. Although that area was for the exclusive use of Chris and his team, he rarely used it, much preferring to do his training around the other soldiers.

As she walked, she heard someone's grunts, followed by some sounds of movement, something cutting through the air... someone was training. This made the woman arch an eyebrow in curiosity.

Chris was asleep, most likely Jill too, not to mention the fact that she doesn't like to train in the early hours of the morning. Parker couldn't be, she had just talked to him.

Maybe Sherry... no, the steps were too heavy to be hers.

The woman turned around and put her finger on the scanner, passing through the turnstile soon after.

The lights were on, showing the empty place, all that equipment with no one using it. To her right was a wall leading to a small training ground, with sandbags scattered around, a fighting rigue and a few other hand-to-hand combat objects.

She walked towards the training ground and, as soon as she got close, her eyes focused on the masked man in front of her.

Ghost was attacking the air with his knife in hand. He was wearing a set of black military training clothes and stood in the center of the field, spinning and piercing the air with his silver combat knife.

She stopped next to the wall, watching him. Parker was right, he moved in a very unusual way, but at the same time, she felt it was in a rather certain way. It was so fluid, his body moved with an agility and flexibility that she could see in a dance performance, not on a battlefield.

He pierced and spun the knife in the air with extreme skill. It was safe to say that he had mastery of that blade, he wielded it as if it were second nature.

As she watched him, she heard some light footsteps approaching beside her, and as she turned she was greeted by a hug from a blonde figure.

"Gosh, Claire... thank God you're all right." She returned the girl's hug, stroking her hair with a certain affection.

"You'll need more than that to get rid of me, brat." She joked, her voice slightly muffled, and Sherry let out a nasal laugh.

"You owe me one. Because of you I'm going to have to move in with Chris." She joked, and Claire shook her head.

"Put it on my list." She said, and soon they both turned their attention to the agent's training nearby.

"Chris let him use the gym?" Claire asked, surprised to see him there.

"Actually, I kind of did." Claire arched an eyebrow. "But I asked him before, so I guess it's okay." Sherry explained, and the two of them watched him jump, spin his body while still in the air and spin his knife along with it, changing his stance immediately after attacking without even touching the ground.

"Amazing, isn't it? He moves like a comic book character." Sherry said, breaking the silence.

"It's like Parker said, it's like a mixture of different fighting styles... I've never seen anything like it. I can't even tell one style from another." Claire said, and Sherry nodded in agreement.

"He made a unique style. Truth be told, I wanted him to use this gym in the hope that he would teach one thing or two." She said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "Nothing better than to follow a professional, eh?"

Claire let out a nasal laugh.

"Huh, so he's kind of a pro at killing bio-weapons? I never thought anything like that would come of it." She said, putting her hands behind her back and also leaning against the wall.

"Well, technically, yes." Sherry said, sighing. "I know this question sucks, but... how are you? How are you really?"

Claire lowered her head. Sherry was usually the one she shared her deepest secrets with, but at the moment she didn't feel up to it.

Her hands were stained with innocent blood, and she was going to suffer for it. Her boyfriend turned out to be an asshole who sold them out for power, and she cried for it.

At the moment, she felt so... lost.

"I feel like shit... honestly, I'm not ready to talk about it yet... I don't want to, really." Sherry stared at her, but then nodded.

"I understand." She could see Claire's eyes, she was in pain... something much worse than she thought had happened on that island.

When the time was right, the woman would open up to her.

"You're up sooner than I thought." The two looked ahead, watching Ghost approach with his knife already in its sheath. They didn't even notice when he started to approach.

"Good to see you're okay, Redfield." Claire laughed in mild disdain.

Well... that was the last thing she was feeling at the moment.

"I wish I felt that way." She replied, her voice slightly hoarse.

"Mental wounds, I see. You'll be fine, you seem like the kind of person who uses it to get stronger." Claire looked away and ran her tongue over her teeth.

That was the thing... she didn't want to be strong, she didn't want to simply put on a confident smile and carry on with an inflated chest. She wanted a hug, a lap to cry on, someone to listen to her, or just to keep her company... that's what she wanted.

But she wouldn't. She wouldn't ask Chris, Jill or Sherry, no matter how close they were. Simply because it wasn't her style, she had a reputation to maintain.

Redfield pride... always that fucking Redfield pride. She cried a lot years ago, and even then, she didn't ask for much help, she didn't like it, she thought her brother or Sherry would see her as weak.

And before she knew it, she had a bit of a reputation.

Sometimes, rarely, she wanted to forget that name, for a few brief moments.

"I hope you're right. Well, I'm going back to bed. If Chris finds out I've been up all night, I'll never hear the end of it. Sherry... Ghost." She said, waving to both of them before turning and walking towards the gym exit, leaving both of them standing there, watching her walk away.

Ghost suppressed a sigh as he looked into the woman's eyes... they were cold, almost like his own. He shook his head slightly and looked at Sherry, meeting the girl's serious gaze.

"Don't forget what I said. There's still time." That was all she said, before heading for the exit as well.

Ghost stared at the girl's back for a few moments, the depths of his being considering that option. Unlikely... that's what he wanted to convince himself.

Shaking his head, he walked towards the bar in front of him. Perhaps a little weightlifting would help relieve the stress.

I'm not very good at writing dialogue, I don't think I'm very good at it, but I don't think it came out that bad... I hope lol.