Chapter Thirty-Five

Elliott was silent for a long while after Claire finished speaking. The more he replayed her words in his head, the more he felt like his heart had been cut in half. Because I kissed him back, and part of me wanted it. The only reason I wanted out so desperately was to get away from him. There were a million things circling in his mind that he wanted to say, but he settled with, "How could you hide this from me?"

"I'm so sorr…"

"Don't!" he said in a raised tone. "Don't you dare fucking apologize!" He paused, feeling sick. "We've been together for an entire year in captivity! I would have thought you trusted me after all that!"

"I did! I do!"

"Then you wouldn't have lied to me!" He shut his eyes and took a breath that did nothing to calm him. "Hearing him in your head—when did that start? The truth this time!"

She looked down. "The day we escaped. At first, it was just him saying—"

He cut her off. "I don't give a fuck what he was saying! Not when you just confirmed that the decision to deceive me was all you! Jesus Christ, Claire! You made me think we were going to build a life with each other! Was it all fun and games to you, screwing me in more ways than one?!"

She flinched. "I never claimed to be perfect," she said, her voice full of resentment. "Maybe you shouldn't have made me that way!"

Elliott felt a surge of anger. "Fuck you, Redfield! What I wanted was for you to be different from my ex," he said heatedly. "Congratulations. Both you and Jasmine have caused plenty of damage to me and my family." He paused for a second. "What kills me the most is that I walked away from Wesker's offer to heal my little sister for you! As far as I'm concerned, you can go to hell!" he yelled.

Before another word could be said, the metal panel separating them from the truck cab slid open. Claire and Elliott both turned their heads to see Jessica peering in at them.

"Hey, what's all the racket about?" Jessica asked. "You guys are loud enough to be heard for miles."

He bit back angry, frustrated tears. Much as he wanted to keep blasting away at Claire, he dared not give Jessica something to gloat about. "None of your damn business."

The remainder of the drive back was spent in silence since Jessica didn't shut the panel. By the time they arrived back at the facility, there was a ton of thoughts circulating in Elliott's head that he wanted to voice. When he was ordered from the vehicle, he was trying to figure out if he even cared if Wesker killed him or not.

Their second walk up from the docks into Wesker's facility—albeit this time from a truck instead of a cargo ship—was eerily similar to the first over a year ago. Raymond and Jessica were once again spurring them on at gunpoint; Elliott and Claire weren't on good terms. The only difference was that the latter knew all too well who was waiting for them and would give anything to turn and run.

The further they got into the facility, the more Claire felt as though her growing dread would cause her to pass out. But she was denied such a reprieve, at least until they rode the elevator down to level three and the doors opened to reveal Dr. Yamata waiting for them.

With a thin smile, the virologist said to Claire, "Nice to see you again, dear. We're well overdue for the blood samples you've been providing." She paused to withdraw an elastic band from her lab coat pocket. "Hold out your arm."

Claire obliged, an ill feeling welling up inside as she watched Dr. Yamata collect four vials of blood. Though she fleetingly wondered why so much was needed, she was too weary to ask. Without a word, the virologist stepped onto the elevator as the rest of them vacated, though she didn't look entirely happy as the doors closed.

Claire's breath caught in her throat when she and Elliott were finally ushered into the boardroom. Even though Wesker was standing on the opposite side of the room with his back to them, she was still struck by an odd mix of fear and desire. She froze in her tracks and surely would have remained still if Jessica hadn't shoved her.

Claire swallowed the lump in her throat when she and Elliott were manhandled into a set of chairs near the door. It took almost half a minute for Wesker to say something; she just about jumped out of her skin when he did. "I do recall warning you, Miss Redfield, that your situation would worsen if you refused to be honest. I hope you're satisfied," he said flatly without moving a muscle.

She cast a nervous glance at Jessica and Raymond as they went to stand next to their boss. Somehow, the notion that Wesker might spill the beans in front of them made her feel worse. Still, she brazenly said, "I would be if you'd gotten what was coming to you."

Elliott drew her attention by violently shifting in his seat. "Oh, don't you dare take the moral high ground!" he snapped. "Not after what you've done!"

A slight smirk was on Wesker's face when he turned. "Well put, Mr. Gregory. Perhaps it is best to start by laying all cards on the table." He shifted to look at his lackeys. "Not long before our friends here decided to make a run for it, Miss Redfield revealed an attraction to me. I promised to keep it a secret to give her an opportunity to admit that something had started between us. It should be obvious what her response was."

Claire wanted to curl up and die at the reactions of those around her. She closed her eyes, but Jessica's wide-eyed stare, Raymond's "Wait, what?" type of expression, Elliott's fury, and Wesker's half-upturned smug smile were already burned into her brain.

Wesker was speaking again before she could say anything. "I imagine this situation warrants a lengthy discussion. But not for everyone." To his associates, he added, "Leave us. The remainder of this meeting is not for you."

Jessica looked like she wanted to protest, but she still followed her partner out the door when he gestured for her to do so. Claire silently watched them leave and braced herself for whatever was to come.

Given that Jessica couldn't seem to say anything other than, "Holy shit!" several times over the course of a minute, Raymond was left feeling like he needed to verbally stop her from sounding like a broken record. "Would you give it a rest?" he said once they were back at the elevator.

She blinked. "I'm sorry, how is your mind not blown by this? I mean, the boss and Miss Redfield—I did not see that coming!"

Raymond looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Just because I don't advertise it like you doesn't mean it didn't catch me off guard. But at the end of the day, it's none of our business. The sooner you get over it, the better."

She giggled. "Are you kidding me?! This is too good!" After a slight pause, she continued with, "Miss Goody Two Shoes has it coming, pretending she's so superior to the rest of us."

He grabbed her arm, effectively silencing her with a hard look. "Jess. Just don't."

"Fine, I'll drop it." She stayed quiet long enough for him to turn and press the button for the elevator. But a mere two seconds later, she blurted out, "Do you think Dr. Yamata knows?"

Just after Jessica and Raymond left, Wesker gracefully stepped forward and seated himself across from Claire. She wondered if he would reach for her—he didn't—and was disturbed once she realized the lack of physical contact bothered her. It wasn't until she heard Elliott scoff next to her that she noticed her face was warm and her gaze was fixed on Wesker's lips.

The latter was definitely amused. "If you can curb your impulses for the time being, dearheart, I'd like to address the real elephant in the room. Most notably, just how inconvenient the past several weeks have been."

Elliott sighed heavily and crossed his arms. "Jessica said you were mad at both of us," he said matter-of-factly.

Wesker grimaced. "Miss Sherawat needs to learn to hold her tongue. I stated no such thing. After all, I'm not the only one who's been negatively impacted by Miss Redfield's actions."

"I'm guessing that means you're not going to kill me then?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Gregory."

Elliott absently nodded. "Great," he said dryly. "Where do we start then?"

"My preferred subject would be for one of you to divulge who aided in your escape. But I imagine that neither of you will be so forthcoming."

Claire gnawed at her lower lip, exchanging a fearful look with Elliott. Her ex-fiancée still had a storm raging in his eyes, but there was something else there too that gave her hope he wouldn't say anything about RogueChild\Irving.

Wesker apparently took their silence as an indication that he was right. "No matter. There will be time for that later." He paused to remove his sunglasses and set them on the table. Claire shivered when his eyes locked with hers. "There is now the difficult task of once more negotiating our arrangement."

Her temper flared. "If you think I'm making another deal with you, you're out of your mind!"

He smirked again. "It won't be me you'll be bargaining with, Miss Redfield. I imagine your companion won't be so agreeable to share a living space with you anymore."

She turned to look at Elliott once that sunk in. Her heart sank when she saw the way he was staring at her, his eyes full of loathing. She shook her head, terrified at just how badly she'd made a mess of things. "Elliott, please no," she pleaded.

"He's right, Claire," her companion said coldly.

She wasn't aware that Wesker had gotten up until his voice sounded to her left. "In that case, I'll be right outside the door."

She half turned. "Where the hell are you going?"

"This squabble is between you and Mr. Gregory. I will not be dragged into it," he said flatly. "But do try not to take all day to reach an agreement."

Almost as soon as they were alone, Elliott leapt to his feet and stomped over to the far wall as though he couldn't stand to be in close proximity to her. When she subsequently rose, took a step toward him, and softly said his name, he snapped, "Stay the fuck away from me!"

Claire bowed her head and, until he spoke again, remained quiet and fought like hell to keep it together.

"If we hadn't been recaptured, would you even have told me?" he asked bitterly.

"Of course I would have! I—"

"How am I supposed to believe that, Claire? I gave you plenty of chances, even before we made a run for it! Do you have any idea how many excuses I made for myself to explain your behavior? I even thought it must be my fault!" He paused for a long while. "I want you gone. You don't deserve to stay in the cushy apartment he's given us."

She gaped at him for several seconds. "Seriously? You're going to be that petty?"

"Yes. Because unlike you, I'm honest about what I want."

Claire scowled. "You cannot just shut me out! I have access to that place same as you!"

He shook his head. "Something which can be rectified if I ask him." Without giving her a chance to respond, he went for the door and opened it to step out.

She was too stunned to follow for a couple seconds, but she soon snapped out of it. When she stepped out into the hall, it was to hear Wesker saying, "Consider it done."

She gasped and cupped one hand over her mouth while tears stung her eyes. After another second, she leapt forward at the sight of Elliott stomping away down the corridor. "Wait—"

Claire was stopped in her tracks when Wesker caught her arm. "Not so fast," the latter said. "Mr. Gregory has had his say. Now it's my turn." He paused to forcibly escort her back into the boardroom. "After matters are settled with your companion, of course. I'll be back within an hour."

She lacked the strength to follow him back to the door. Instead, she grasped the rim of one of the chairs; though she tried not to focus on how badly she'd screwed up, the events and conversations of the last four hours were too much to keep at bay. But what really got her was that she felt infinitely worse than she had at any other point over the past year.

While Excella was pleased to receive a notification that the escapees had been retrieved, her good mood was spoiled by the revelation that Jessica was all too eager to share. After a couple seconds spent fuming, Excella demanded, "Inform Albert I need to speak with him. And that I won't take no for an answer."

The instant that Wesker appeared on the monitor in response to her summons, Excella frowned and bluntly asked, "What happened to Miss Redfield, in your own words, being nothing more than a means to an end? You said you weren't interested in her, Albert!"

He tilted his head to one side, looking a touch irritated. "I had assumed you wished for answers on how our guests got out of the facility in the first place. Which, by the way, I have yet to find out."

"Don't change the subject."

"Patience, Excella," he said smoothly. "It was a surprise that she feels anything for me at all. But such a thing may work to our advantage. If you'll indulge me, I believe I will eventually get Miss Redfield to drop her guard enough to provide the answers we seek."

She pouted in spite of the valid point. "Don't ask me to like the idea of you getting close to her, Albert."

He smirked. "Merely a temporary affair. Our time will come."

Excella sighed. "Very well," she acquiesced. "Have your fun. When you tire of her, I'll be waiting." After a short pause, she added, "And while I have your attention, perhaps you'd reassure me of what will be done to keep our troublemakers under better lock and key."

One benefit to being left to your own devices was that there was nothing to stop your thoughts from going off in all

directions. By the time Wesker returned, Claire had a more pressing topic than her failed relationship on her mind.

After a split-second of hesitation on his part, he casually strode into the room, his raised eyebrow indicating he was intrigued by her demeanor. "Your fortitude surprises me. I expected to find you in tears."

"Then you clearly don't know me that well." She crossed her arms. "What did you do to the locals?"

A fleeting smile crossed his face. "I've not forgotten that you were employed with a non-profit company dedicated to aiding outbreak survivors. But even this is outside your league, Miss Redfield."

"Bullshit!"

"Believe what you like. But what you saw was caused by a parasitic organism, not a virus strain."

Her jaw went slack for a moment. "What, creating viruses wasn't enough for you?!"

Wesker smirked. "That is not a topic open for discussion. And far from the one I wish to talk about." He took a step toward her. "You've no idea just how much you've inconvenienced me."

"Don't expect an apology, because you are not going to get one!"

He chuckled. "Defiant until the end. I've so missed these talks of ours." He took another step; something about him closing the distance between them unnerved her.

Claire stumbled back. "Stay away from me."

"Come now, dearheart. We both know you don't really mean that."

She was set to protest, but he was upon her in the time it took her to blink. While she shuddered at his hand on the back of her neck, her face flushed with warmth. A small corner of her mind reviled the notion that she still craved him, even as she involuntary raised one hand to touch his chest and moistened her lips with her tongue.

Wesker chuckled again and, with his free hand, removed his glasses. He took half a step closer and inclined his head toward hers. Though she tilted her head back in anticipation, she was disappointed when he stopped short of kissing her. He instead softly said, "Now let us talk about what exactly happened the day you and Mr. Gregory got out. It's obvious from the power-out alone that you had help."

Claire blinked and felt a spike of fear over the question. As much as she desired the monster, she still had enough sense to deny him any information about RogueChild/Irving. Especially with the latter being a member of Wesker's own team. She steeled herself and said, "I don't know what you mean."

He stared at her in silence with a blank expression before a slight smirk rose to his lips. "Have it your way for now." He stepped back and crossed his arms. "Either you or your companion will eventually tell me what I want to know."

She shook her head. "The hell we will!"

"We'll see about that." He paused for a moment, then added, "In the meantime, you will no longer have access to your old living quarters. Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to where you'll be staying from now on."

The reminder of how much Elliott was pissed off threatened to undo her. She bit her tongue to keep from crying and wordlessly nodded.

Wesker didn't say a word as he led her from the boardroom to a door on sub-level one. Unlike her apartment, there was no numbered keypad next to the entryway; the door wasn't even locked when she tried the knob.

She stared numbly at the plain white walls and the modest cot against one wall for so long that Wesker was perhaps inspired to say something. "It may not be to your liking, but it was hurriedly thrown together over the last hour. More furnishings can be provided at your request, Miss Redfield."

She still said nothing—only stepped over to her makeshift bed, sat down on the left side, and stared blankly at the far wall. When she eventually looked back over at the doorway, there was no sign of Wesker. And ironically, that's what it took for her to curl up on the cot and succumb to crying her eyes out.

At the end of the day, Dr. Yamata was pleased to receive an invite up to Wesker's office so that the two of them might talk at length. When she stepped through the door, it was to catch the tail end of a phone conversation between him and Svetlana Belikova.

Dr. Yamata stepped across the room to help herself to a bottle of bourbon from the mini-fridge above the bar. As she poured herself a glass, she listened to him finish with the call and hang up. A couple seconds later, she said, "I take it Miss Belikova is pleased with the demonstration of the Plaga parasite."

Wesker nodded. "A field test that she will be allowed to continue at her discretion. And which will be linked to our friend, Irving, in the event that something goes wrong." At her disapproving look, he said, "Irving is the only one other than myself that Miss Belikova has interacted with. I'd like to keep it that way." He stepped over to the bar to prepare a glass of white wine. "I can always find another arms dealer, if need be."

"Understood." She took a sip of her drink, simultaneously shifting to lean against the counter. "I am surprised that I had to hear about a certain development from Miss Sherawat instead of you. May I ask why I wasn't told?"

He grimaced. "Part of a failed test to determine if I could trust Miss Redfield enough to include her on what we've been working on. A moot point now."

Dr. Yamata unconsciously touched the large diagonal scar spreading outward in opposite directions from her left eye. Thank God the injury didn't blind me, she thought. "Perhaps not, Albert," she said, causing him to glance at her with a raised eyebrow. "It's true that we suffered a setback because of the girl's actions. But we may still relocate with enough time and effort. Miss Gionne and her affiliates need not be the wiser so long as we're careful."

"Duping Excella will not be so easy. She informed me she'll be dropping in more often to ensure that all is running smoothly here. And I imagine she'll want to see evidence of what we've told her we've been using Miss Redfield for."

"Leave it to me to provide Miss Gionne with what she wants to see."

January 16, 2008

The days following her and Elliott's recapture seemed to bleed into each other. Apart from settling into a routine that consisted of eating, sleeping, sitting in the synthetic greenhouse for hours at a time, and occasionally reading or showering, there was little to break up the monotony. Dr. Yamata stopped in once or twice for a blood sample, but that was just a drop in the bucket as far as Claire was concerned.

The morning of the 14th found her restless and yearning for someone to talk to. Though she tried to ignore it, the compulsion grew so great that it found her outside Elliott's door two days later. When there was no answer to her incessant knocking until she heard music blaring from inside the apartment, she had doubts he was even there.

Claire gnawed at her lip and somberly went back to the elevator. Once inside the cab, she inclined her head against the wall, staring down at the buttons until hesitantly selecting the one for the top floor.

Unlike Elliott, Wesker came to the door and opened it almost right away when she knocked. He said nothing and his blank expression somehow dissuaded her from turning and walking away over what a terrible idea this was. She hugged herself and asked, "Can I come in?"

After a second or two, Wesker stepped back to allow her entry. Claire wandered over to the dining table in the center of the expansive room and seated herself; her eyes followed him as he went to stand across from her.

After a short silence, she said, "You're probably wondering why I'm here."

Wesker shifted ever so slightly, a fleeting amused smile crossing his face. "Thank you for stating the obvious," he said flatly.

She rubbed her eyes and resisted the urge to be snarky. "Can I have a drink? Brandy, if you have it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You are aware you can't get drunk due to your healing factor?"

Claire reddened. "If you want me to stay, then indulge me."

"Fair enough."

She wasn't sure if the glass he set in front of her moments later contained brandy, but she still knocked it back in one swig. She winced slightly at the aftertaste and gazed blindly into the empty glass for half a minute. "Do you ever get lonely, spending so much time by yourself?"

"I'm not what you would call a social person, Miss Redfield. I make do."

She bitterly smiled and raised her glass in a mocking gesture. "Hurray for you. Most of us don't do so well under such conditions."

Wesker hesitated; he looked almost contemplative when she glanced at him. "Why are you here?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you? You're smarter than that."

"Indulge me."

Though she craved companionship and had heavily implied so, she didn't feel quite so comfortable stating it outright. After a couple seconds, she set her glass down and pushed back from the table to get to her feet. "Thanks for the drink," she said abruptly as she briskly moved over to the sofa. Without letting him react, she kicked off her shoes and laid down on the plush cushions. "Mmm," she purred. "So much more comfortable than the cot you gave me."

She wasn't sure how long she remained there until she nodded off, but she could hear him moving about his quarters as though she wasn't present. Claire was oddly grateful for this before sleep caught her; at some point, she thought, At least he's not demanding that I leave.

February 5, 2008

Much to her surprise, Wesker largely left her alone after she invited herself into his place. Apart from mutely preparing breakfast for her—mostly something including eggs—he didn't make any advances or question her about how she escaped. She had to wonder if it was some weird tactic to get her to talk, but she still couldn't quite bring herself to isolate once more.

The only deviation to this setup was when he insisted she step out one day so he could conduct an online meeting on his computer. Claire didn't argue this and spent several hours just wandering about the facility until he radioed her that it was okay to return.

The routine changed when she awoke one morning earlier than she was accustomed to. She tossed and turned for about an hour while she attempted to get back to sleep. But eventually frustration made her get up and head for the kitchen island.

Wesker was expressionless as ever as he glanced at her, but she wondered if he was surprised to see her up and looking grumpy. Nevertheless, he strode over to pull out a skillet and some eggs. Though it wasn't at all different than any previous morning, something about the smell—in the midst of him cooking—turned her stomach.

Claire covered her nose and groaned. "Ugh, what the hell is that?"

He half turned away from the stove, but only stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

His blank expression irritated her even more for some reason. "Oh, don't give me that look! And whatever the hell you're making, get rid of it! It fucking stinks."

He stared at her a moment more, but still took the skillet over to the sink and drowned it in water. As he turned and crossed his arms, he said, "Happy now, dearheart?"

"Don't get snippy with me."

Wesker hesitated. "Is there a reason you're picking a fight out of the blue?"

"Oh, like you didn't see this coming?"

"I did not." He shifted his weight. "I had assumed we were slowly reaching an understanding. Hence why I haven't been pushing you."

She dropped her hand from her face upon realizing the eggy smell had sufficiently dissipated. "Get real! The only reason you've backed off is because you want information from me."

"You're mistaken, Miss Redfield, if you believe that's the way I'd go about it. You're well aware of how persuasive I can be."

Something about his words invoked anxiety. Claire got to her feet, paced toward him, and tentatively asked, "Then, do you just… not want me anymore?"

He cupped his chin in his hand after a couple seconds, looking intrigued. "Given that this conversation is all over the place, you should leave the mind games to the professionals, dearheart. You're not that good at it," he said smoothly.

She gnawed at her lower lip, hurt by the idea that he didn't think she was serious. She took another step, but his phone started ringing before she could get much further.

Claire stopped in her tracks when he moved over to his desk, but not for long. It took her several seconds to work up the courage to advance; she scarcely paid attention to his side of the conversation. She was about to reach up and lay her hand on his shoulder when he put the phone down with a deep sigh.

Wesker had to know she was right behind him, but he didn't look at her. His words were sufficient enough to kill whatever impulse was driving her. "Excella's just announced that she's on her way here. About ten minutes away."

Rearranging her schedule for an extended stay in Africa took some doing, but Excella was ecstatic when it finally rolled around. Even more pleasing to her was the chance to speak with Miss Redfield in person, which she wasted no time requesting upon her arrival at the facility. Though she ordinarily would have showered off the dust accrued from the helicopter ride, eagerness found her going to her office straightaway.

Excella cast an appreciative glance at Albert when she saw him standing just outside the door with his arms crossed. He nodded toward the entryway and said flatly, "As requested, she's waiting for you."

Excella took a step forward with a flirtatious smile. "Thank you, Albert. Perhaps now you'll share what you've learned from her in the past month."

"Next to nothing. Both she and her friend are quite stubborn and close-mouthed, even being at odds with each other."

"A shame. But maybe I'll have better luck."

He smirked. "Do as you like. I only request that you not sabotage the angle I'm working. Miss Redfield will not tell me anything if she thinks there won't be any payoff between us."

Excella took another step and ran her hand across his chest in a seductive gesture. "My lips are sealed," she assured him. Much as she desired to keep talking and\or flirting with him, she turned and walked into her office with a soft sigh.

With a sullen expression, Claire turned to look at Excella when the latter entered the room. Excella stayed quiet while walking over to her desk to sit down, then kicked things off by saying, "It's a pleasure to see you back here. You had me very concerned until we were able to recover you and your friend, dear."

Claire scoffed. "Spare me."

A thin smile came to Excella's face. "Curious that you're still so insubordinate after losing everything good you had going for you, and then some." She paused. "I've been closely watching your brother through this whole ordeal. As of three days ago, there's been no indication that he's heard from you. If you had any hope that he'd make his way here, you can forget it."

Claire tilted her head up in defiance. "You don't know Chris if you think that's the case!"

"If you wish to believe he's that good at hiding his intent, be my guest. But from what I've heard, you did a poor job of concealing your emotions through this entire mess. And you and your brother are cut from the same cloth." Excella leaned back in her chair with a smug smile. "One way or another, you will share who helped you and Mr. Gregory get out."

Claire looked ready to respond when she suddenly gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth. Excella eyed her curiously until she muttered, "I think I'm going to be sick."

Excella chuckled. "Jumping the gun, are we? I haven't even broached the topic of putting your healing factor to the ultimate test," she said menacingly. She took a moment to open a drawer and very deliberately set a scalpel, set of pliers, and pair of knitting needles on the desktop. "Even with strong regenerative properties, I imagine there's only so much pain you can endure, Miss Redfield."

Claire was definitely looking green now. "There's no way you got Wesker to agree to that," she said haltingly.

"Oh, dear, he's already given appro—"

Before Excella could say anything further, Claire abruptly gave a loud, hacking cough. While Excella had been given every indication that the girl was going to throw up, she still did not anticipate projectile vomiting. If there was any one thing that would have stayed her hand, then suddenly being covered in bile was definitely it.

Excella made a sound of disgust. After a few seconds, she leapt to her feet and crossed the room, hauling Claire along as she did so. As soon as the door was open, Excella practically threw the girl in Albert's direction. His look of curiosity that devolved into a tiny smirk added to her fury and humiliation.

"Get her out of here!" Excella snapped before she slammed the door.

In spite of how miserable Claire felt upon leaving Excella's office, it was made better once she downed two cups of peppermint tea. She reclined on Wesker's sofa and smiled faintly as he took the empty mug from her. "Thank you for insisting on this," she said, lethargic notes in her voice. "The tea really helped."

He went to set the mug on the kitchen counter before turning to regard her with crossed arms. "Concerning that you got sick at all. Your healing factor should have prevented any and all ailments," he said flatly.

Claire ignored that in favor of a greater concern. "Excella said you agreed to let her torture me for information," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone that sounded foreign to her own ears.

"Nothing but an implication right now, dearheart. It's up to you if that threat becomes a reality."

She bit back a sob and desperately thought, You can't really be that cold. After a few seconds, she rose and paced toward him. "What would happen if I gave you a name? Tell you who helped me and Elliott?"

Wesker's gaze was fully fixed on her. "That would depend on what name you give me. And how much conviction is behind it on your part."

She hesitated before reaching up to try and remove his sunglasses. He caught her hands before she could even touch the frames, the flash of red light behind the lenses demonstrating his anger. Claire didn't let that deter her, even though she knew she was playing a very dangerous game. "We can't seem to stop making deals with each other," she said softly. "I'd like to propose one more—A single kiss like what we've shared before and I'll tell you what you want to hear."

Several tense seconds passed before he loosened his grip on her hands and removed his shades to hold loosely at his side. His other palm went to the back of her head and he maneuvered her closer to the wall as he spoke in an amused tone: "Still a very curious creature, dearheart."

Heat flooded through her the instant their lips crushed together. Claire seized the opportunity to wrap her arms around him, eager to both deepen the kiss and perhaps entice him into something more. As the seconds ticked by, her longing grew ever greater to stay lost in his embrace.

She was disappointed when Wesker forcefully ended the kiss in the exact same way he had for both previous ones. As she fought to catch her breath, she felt a tiny bit of fury at how easy it was for him to cast her aside.

He adopted a smug smile and eyed her in expectation. Claire wasn't sure if she'd intended to be fully honest when she made the promise, but Wesker's cavalier attitude pissed her off. She took a step back, crossed her arms, and voiced the only name she dared under the circumstances.

"RogueChild."

Wesker was silent for a beat. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

In a deliberately snarky tone, she said, "The person who aided in the escape goes by the alias, RogueChild."

He stared at her for what felt like forever before his eyes started blazing brighter than she'd ever seen them. She heard a loud crack next to her head before she actually saw him move. When she turned to look, a gasp escaped her when she saw his fist partially buried inside the wall.

Wesker looked downright furious that she'd technically tricked him. He averted his gaze as though he couldn't stand to look at her and snarled, "Get out!"

Claire was shaking like a leaf as she gulped and meekly made her way to the door. Once inside the elevator, she was at a loss of where to go before settling on the greenhouse level. She was a bundle of nerves when she finally arrived at her destination, anxious to find something to calm her down.

Finding Elliott seated on the bench in one of the center aisles made her stop in her tracks. She went numb when he looked up and almost instantly scowled. She half expected him to get up and leave, but he just sat there staring at her. "Guess we were bound to run into each other eventually," he said, a hint of anger in his voice.

Claire wrung her hands together. She spent several seconds trying to figure out what to say before she settled with, "I've missed you."

Elliott chuckled ironically and got to his feet. She felt even colder when she realized he held a whiskey bottle in one hand. "You have a funny way of showing it." He paused to take a swig. "I know you moved in with him several weeks ago."

"What do you care?" she said flatly. "You made it clear you want nothing to do with me."

He took a step toward her, swaying slightly as he did so. "I honestly wouldn't give a crap if you weren't acting like a goddamn idiot," he slurred. "Speaking of which, have you two fucked yet?"

She flinched. "You want to talk about acting like a moron? Fine. Let's look at all the stupid things you've done over the past year."

He reddened. "Don't even—"

Claire wouldn't be deterred. "How many times did you push me into something in spite of my reservations, you asshole?! I told you—several times, I might add—I was reluctant to start a relationship with you. I said it was a bad idea to play into Wesker's hands. Oh, and let's not forget the number of times you told me to play nice with him or Jessica or whoever!" She angrily stomped toward Elliott and gave his chest a shove, only hard enough to make him stagger. "I did all of that because of you! You're equally to blame for where we are and you know it!"

Elliott scowled again. "I don't have t' listen to this," he said as he started to walk past her to the exit.

She grabbed his arm and spun him toward her. "Don't you dare wal—" She stopped when her vision suddenly blurred. She groaned and put a hand to her head when it started swimming. Neither action prevented her from collapsing. She was vaguely aware that Elliott caught her as she fell and questioningly spoke her name, but the darkness claimed her before she could respond.

Dr. Yamata had grown accustomed to letting herself into Wesker's quarters when she needed to speak with him, but she couldn't recall ever finding him in a foul mood. He looked up when she entered and a grimace crossed his face. "This is not a good time, Christine," he said.

She still stepped into the room and briefly glanced at the hole in the kitchen wall behind him. "Noted, but we've got a problem," she said, gesturing to the file folder she was hugging to her chest. "And it can't wait."

He took several seconds to respond. He pushed away from the counter he was leaning against and moved closer. "Make it quick."

She nodded. "I took some blood samples from Miss Redfield in mid-January, but hadn't gotten around to working with them until today. Long story short…" She set the folder down and opened it. "Her hCG levels are higher than they should be. I tested her blood twice, but there's no mistake. I shouldn't have to tell you what elevated hormones mean."

Some of the anger drained from his face and he stepped closer to have a look at the file as though he doubted the results. He was silent for a long while before he finally said softly, "Interesting."

Author's Notes (Please read) –

I hope you all enjoyed this new installment of Tangled Web as much as I enjoyed writing it. The story just flowed once I got started; bypassing the previous chapter in favor of this was, I feel, the best decision I could have made. I hope that the subsequent chapters (of which there are about eight) develop just as quickly.

If you haven't already, please vote in the poll on my profile page. It won't stay active much longer, and I'm curious to know what you all think.

Also, for those of you have read my divergent story, Devil to Watch Over Me, I will say that the moment that kicks off that plotline would be the kiss that Claire shares with Wesker (before she mentions anything about RogueChild). It will eventually be addressed in that story what caused her near-mutation; I may even rewrite the first chapter to better tie it in to the Tangled Web storyline.

Stay tuned for the next installment, which I hope will be soon. My goal is to get to the end of this story before the year is over, but we'll see.