Resident Evil: Tangled Web

By: PhantasmBabeIvory

Author's Notes: The new installment was written at a very rapid pace I didn't think possible. I hope it meets all your expectations and more, and that I kept everyone in character.

Until recently, I thought I had the remainder of the story all planned out. That all changed when Ultimolu left the following review on Chapter 28:

Well why do I have a feeling that Wesker probably knows they're planning to escape? He can't be stupid cause' he's definitely not stupid.

I agreed with this so much that it inspired the big meeting scene in Chapter 29. And completely changed my game-plan for the story. I suddenly had to think why Claire and Elliott would want to escape after Wesker presented a very convincing argument on why they should stay put.

I got extremely inspired several days ago and came up with a plot twist that I hadn't planned for. Many thanks to Ultimolu for inspiring the unexpected turn this story took off in.

But I won't keep you waiting any longer. Enjoy! And don't forget to leave a review.

Chapter Thirty

In her youth, Claire had dreamed of getting married in spite of being a tomboy. She remembered wishing she would find someone who would make her as happy as her parents were with each other. But such dreams had fallen by the wayside the day she stumbled into the nightmarish world created by Umbrella. Or perhaps a contributing factor were the two romantic prospects who crushed her hopes – one who didn't want her and one who died. In either case, she'd found a new purpose in life and had imagined that finding a soulmate was no longer a priority.

She didn't know how long she'd been silent before Elliott nervously cleared his throat. With a sheepish grin, he said, "You're kinda leaving me hanging here, Redfield."

She blinked back tears and shook her head. "I… I can't."

A mix of emotions crossed his face. Confusion, uncertainty, a hint of anger. He looked a bit remorseful when he reached for her. "Claire…"

She recoiled and abruptly got to her feet. "Don't!" She paused and rubbed her face. "You picked the worst time to spring this on me."

Elliott took a moment to respond. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you have preferred me to ask when Wesker had you pinned to a table?"

"That's not fair, Elliott."

"How do you want me to react?" He stood and sighed in exasperation. "I thought you'd be happy about this!"

"Happy?" she snapped. "You thought I'd want to get engaged when we're being held prisoner for who knows how long! Brilliant plan!" She paused, then impulsively said, "I've seen you do some dumb shit in the time we've been here, but this takes the cake."

His gaze darkened. "My mistake for trying to give you something positive to hold onto," he grumbled as he brushed past her and exited into the main room.

His anger sparked regret in her. Claire followed after him, only to stop when she saw him grab his serum case from the kitchen counter. "Elliott, wait!" she said when he was at the door. "I'm sorry. Please don't leave."

He glared at her for a long tense moment before he shook his head, turned, and stomped out of their apartment.

Jessica was almost giddy with excitement as she viewed the spectacle on the monitor. She stuck one fingernail in between her teeth and said, "Looks like trouble in paradise. That's something I never saw coming." She looked at Raymond. "Guess Miss Goody Two Shoes isn't as perfect as we thought."

He scoffed. "No one said she was. And you better not get any ideas about rubbing salt in the wounds."

"Not planning to. Trust me, I'll behave myself." She looked back at the screen. "What do you think they're fighting about?"

"Whatever it is, it's not a topic I care to gossip about, Jess." He shrugged. "Though it could be interesting to see what happens next."

If Claire hadn't hesitated when Elliott walked out, she might have caught up with him before the elevator doors closed. What halted her was fear that he would yell at her for following. By the time she poked her head out into the corridor, he was already gone.

The apartment felt maddeningly quiet when she wandered back in. She pulled at her hair and cursed herself. "Shit, Redfield! How could you be so stupid?!" When she lowered her hands, Claire caught sight of the cake Elliott had baked to celebrate today. With a frustrated cry, she swept it off the counter without thinking.

The sound of breaking glass and the sight of the frosting splattered across the floor brought her to tears once more. She sank into a seated position, buried her face in her hands, and wept until her head hurt.

When she finally stopped crying, she was left with only a strong urge for something to dull the ache – both physical and emotional. She listlessly looked toward the fridge and thought, God, I could really use a drink…

One of the main downsides of being locked up in a secret facility was that there weren't many options on where to go to vent. But Elliott didn't much care about the limited space. He'd be good with just about any room as long as it granted him some distance from Claire.

Though he felt guilty about running out on her, he could still hear her hurtful words echoing in his head. How could she say that after everything we've been through? Even worse, did she mean it? Our entire relationship could be a joke if that's the case.

One thing was for sure – he needed some time to himself for some soul searching. And to sift through memories in hopes that the last year hadn't been a total waste. It was just a matter of finding a spot where he could sit and think.

Claire knew from past experience that she tended to use very poor judgment even at a low level of intoxication. But that never stopped her from drinking. Most times, she relied on the buddy system to keep herself out of trouble.

She was leaned against a wall and half asleep when the sound of approaching footsteps roused her. Blurry-eyed, she looked up and tried to make sense of her surroundings. "Where…" she murmured.

"May I ask what you're doing outside my quarters, dearheart?"

Crap! Claire thought. How out of it was I? She glanced up at Wesker and mumbled, "I don't know."

He smirked. "Lucky for you, Miss Redfield, I do. My people saw you inject yourself with the healing suppressant I gave you, down half a bottle of tequila, ride the elevator up and start banging on my door like you imagined I'd be there… Hardly what I expected after this morning."

Claire vaguely remembered administering the suppressant. It made sense since her healing factor had previously prevented her from getting drunk. "Don't you start!" she snapped. She moved to climb to her feet. "I'm going…"

Claire staggered before she could finish the thought. Wesker caught her by the shoulders to steady her.

"I'll not have you going anywhere until you're sober. You're bound to do something reckless in this state," he said evenly. In spite of her attempt to fight him off, she was inside the apartment and seated on the couch in no time.

"I'm no' a child," she protested in a slightly slurred tone.

"Then do stop acting like one," he responded. "And stay."

She pouted, but still obliged. The scent of coffee reached her before Wesker returned to her side with a plain white mug. She accepted it and took a small sip. "Don't expect a thanks," she said when she saw he hadn't moved. The fact that he was towering over her was very disconcerting, but she tried not to show her unease.

Wesker crossed his arms. "How delightful that you're still as belligerent when intoxicated." He paused and shifted his weight. "I also understand that you and Mr. Gregory had an argument that led to him abandoning you for the time being."

Claire's head cleared a bit at the mention of Elliott. "Where is he?"

"Mr. Gregory has retreated to an empty lab and has been staring into space for some time… It has me curious what the fight was about."

Her temper flared. "You're not my shrink. Don't have to tell you."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "Though I must note that you're limited on options when it comes to someone to talk with."

Claire felt an ache in her heart when this statement invoked memories of everyone she'd been ripped away from. It made her even more angry. "Because you made sure of that. And I will never stop hating you for it." She followed this by thrusting the mug in his direction. The scalding liquid arced through the air, but completely missed the intended target. Damn it, I forgot how fast he can move.

A scowl was on Wesker's face when he hauled her to her feet. "Considering the condition you're in, Miss Redfield, I'm going to pretend that didn't happen… Keep this up, and I will sedate you until the healing suppressant wears off."

"Go right ahead. I could use the rest. Especially if it brings me closer to making up with the man I'm going to marry."

Wesker's hesitation and raised eyebrow made her stop and realize what she'd blurted out. She recoiled in horror, but the damage was already done.

The mirthful smile that crossed his face nauseated her more than the sight of his reptilian eyes when he removed his shades. "What a surprise this is," Wesker stated. "You and Mr. Gregory have gotten closer than I realized."

She put a hand against his chest in an attempt to break free of his grip. "Let go of me."

He went on as if she hadn't spoken or wasn't trying to get away from him. "This makes it even more curious on why you came here instead of looking for him. Dare I assume that Mr. Gregory proposed to you following this morning's meeting? And that you didn't react well?"

"No!" she said hastily.

Wesker smirked. "Your eyes say otherwise. But then, getting intoxicated does have a way of bringing one's true self to the surface." He paused and lifted his free hand to cup her chin. "Which makes me want to test a theory."

Claire didn't have time to say anything before Wesker stepped closer and crushed his lips against hers.

The unwanted attention worked wonders for clearing up her foggy mind. She caught tufts of his thick blond hair between her fingers and attempted to pull his head back. Though she fought for all she was worth to no avail, her face flushed with a searing heat that soon spread through her.

There was nothing gentle about this kiss, but there was something oddly and pleasantly intoxicating about it. For several seconds, her mind waged a war with her body that was ultimately lost. And her fury gave way to something just as intense – desire.

She was scarcely aware that her hands went from trying to pull Wesker off her to settling against and massaging his scalp. When he abruptly backed away, Claire was taken off guard and stumbled. The smug smile on his face was all she needed to gasp in horror and cup both hands over her mouth like she was going to be sick.

Wesker took a step back, crossed his arms, and said in an amused tone, "You are a curious creature, dearheart. One that is more drawn to darkness than I believed."

Her first thought was downright bizarre considering the circumstances. How can his hair still be perfectly groomed when I had to be messing it up? She shook her head vehemently and said, "No, I'm not!"

He idly ran his thumb across his lower lip. "Lie to yourself all you like. I know otherwise… I don't doubt that you feel strongly for Mr. Gregory. But perhaps you should face the fact that the safe, predictable life he'd offer doesn't suit you. Nor will it satisfy you indefinitely."

"You're wrong," Claire said before she made a beeline for the entryway.

Wesker was behind her before she could pull the door open, planting his hands against the walls to pin her in place. His close proximity made her shiver. "I'll stand aside no longer. Not now that I've seen your true colors. You've presented something far too delectable to pass up, Chris' little sister."

She shuddered when his gloved hand brushed the side of her face. "If you do anything to hurt Elliott… If you even tell him about this, I'll kill you," she said.

She sensed rather than saw Wesker smirk. "I'll leave it to you to be honest. I imagine you'll be defiant and try to resist. But there are some beasts that won't be caged once they're set free…"

When she got back to her apartment, the first thing that Claire did was strip down and jump in the shower. She remained there until the water ran cold, as though cleansing herself would magically wash away all the events of today.

She was seated on the edge of the tub, wrapped firmly in a towel, when she heard a voice outside the door. "Claire?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she was too terrified to speak for a moment. When a knock sounded and Elliott called her name again, she gulped and said, "I'm… I'm here. You can… come in." How can I tell him?

Her tenuous façade crumbled when she laid eyes on him. Tears dripped from her eyes, but the only reaction it got from Elliott was a sympathetic expression.

Neither of them moved or said anything for what seemed like the longest time. At last, Elliott stepped forward, kneeled across from her, and caught her hand in his. In an instant, she resolved to just play this by ear and react accordingly to whatever happened. It'll break him. Both of us, in fact.

"I'm sorry," Elliott said. He paused. "I'm an idiot for thinking that asking you to marry me was the best way to cheer you up."

"Don't do that to yourself," Claire said quietly. Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. She cleared her throat and tried to work more nuance into her tone. "You're a sweet, caring man who just picked a bad time to propose. It doesn't make me think less of you."

He half smiled. "Can we just agree to pretend today never happened?"

She almost started crying again. "I'm not sure we can." How much will he hate me if he finds out?

Puzzlement, or maybe apprehension, creased Elliott's forehead. "Then what's our next move, Redfield?"

She sighed and wondered if there was a way out of this that didn't involve total honesty. "I… I think you should ask me again."

He hesitated, then shifted so one leg was bent underneath him. "Will you… marry me?"

She maneuvered so that she was kneeling in front of him. "Yes," she whispered. She threw her arms around him and squeezed. It was as though she was tightly clinging to the safe, mediocre life that Wesker claimed didn't suit her. "Yes. I'll marry you."

Elliott gave a sigh of relief and kissed her shoulder. "I hope you'll be okay waiting for a wedding that may be years away."

Claire pulled back. "I don't want to wait," she said abruptly, as an idea started to percolate in her head. When he curiously regarded her, she said, "I don't want to stay here, Elliott. We have an out coming, and soon. We should take it."

He gnawed at his lip. "I don't know, Redfield… It means giving up any good chance of being normal again. You heard what Wesker said…"

She shook her head. "I did and I don't care! I'm done having him dictating my… dictating our lives." She silently cursed herself for the slip-of-the-tongue and hoped Elliott wouldn't question it. She touched his face. "Whatever comes our way, I'll face it head on. As long as I have you by my side." Claire paused, then said, "This is something I can live with. Can you?"

When Elliott nodded, she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. He pulled her in for a hug and started to rub her back.

With her head resting on his shoulder, Claire let her façade drop. It was a good thing Elliott couldn't see the troubled expression on her face, nor hear the self-deprecating thought that crossed her mind.

Liar.