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Optio	By : Ripsi Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 8319 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil fandom/franchise or any of their characters. I make no money from this fanfiction. It is merely a piece of fiction written by me.

Chapter List
- 1-Annus Novus
- 2-Domus
- 3-Calor
- 4-Posco
- 5-Ludus
- 6-Felix Dies Valentini
- 7-Desiderium
- 8-Dormientes
- 9-Curre
- 10-Gravatus
- 11-Vita
- 12-Vigilo
- 13-Arcanum
- 14-Phasma Phasmatis
- 15-Possessio
- 16-Mutatio
- 17-Anniversarium
- 18-Monstrum
- 19-Lues
- 20-Vita Post Mortem
- 21-Iterum
- 22-Eam
- 23-Fidelitas
- 24-Veritas
- 25-Pacisco
- 26-Mundus Novus
- 27-Febris
- 28-Chemia
- 29-In Aeternum
- 30-Frater
- 31-Historia
- 32-Familia
- 11
- 12
- 13
Optio
Chapter 12: Vigilo
April 30, 2001 Monday 3:16 PM

Subject: Redfield, Chris
Location: Denver, Colorado
Status: Worried
“I’m telling you for the last time, my sister has no affiliation with Albert Wesker!” I swear if I had to keep speaking with these CDC fucks then I was going to end up flipping out and throwing them from Claire’s window. At least they claimed they were from the CDC, but then again this had to do with something linked with Umbrella so they most likely were.
“Calm down. We’re just trying to do our job sir.” His warning fell on deaf ears and I looked at him like he had just spoken to me in Greek.
“Your job is to accuse my sister of being a terrorist?”
“You calling our witnesses liars?” he replied, eyebrow raised above his shades.
Jill’s grip on my arm tightened when she felt my body tense, I was about to clobber this guy. “And what about the nosy Russian who swears that it’s not the same guy who came to pick up Claire? Maritza even?” I demanded, throwing a finger in her direction as she and Leon gave information to an equally useless and annoying agent.
He gave no reply to that, just kept scribbling in his little notepad while chewing the inside of his cheek, possibly also trying to keep his temper in check, and that showed me that he was smart because he’d wind up getting his scrawny ass kicked. Then he sighed and said, “I just don’t understand how you can ignore the signs Mr. Redfield. Everything your sister sent to the University for her classes was untraceable, she has a closet full of clothes with price tags still attached that read way out of the range of an unemployed, college student. The bank card in her purse has been mysteriously cut off from an unidentified account, she has a new car and a motorcycle that has disappeared since her kidnapping, and Albert Wesker suddenly shows an interest in her and abducts her…”
Pulling at my hair I growled out, “Maybe it was all from her ex-boyfriend!”
“Chris…” Jill’s voice was soft, and it would have been soothing had this asshole not been accusing my only sister of being in league with Wesker, and I wanted to end the shit that was spewing from his mouth about her by plugging it with my fist.
“Who is looking more and more to be Albert Wesker,” he replied snidely. Just as I jumped up from the couch the door to the apartment opened and a brunet guy looked around like a deer caught in headlights. I’d recognized him as that guy Byron who’d once come over while he was stoned out of his mind, and just because I was in the mood, I hated him even more than the last time I saw him, but then again since he walked in out of nowhere so much maybe he’d seen something to prove my sister’s innocence. Hell, he was loaded so maybe it’d turn out that he was the guy supplying my sister with all these things, because let’s face it, I’d approve of him way before I would my old captain.
His eyes went from the man standing over me to my own, and he asked, “Is this a bad time?”
Agent Asshole turned to him with false geniality, gesturing for the younger man to join us. “I’m Agent McCoy with the CDC and I have a few questions concerning Claire Redfield. I assume you know her?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, and though he was asking a question to a civilian it would seem that a threat lay beneath his inquisitive tone: answer or we’ll beat an answer out of you, and then beat you some more for good measure.
Nervously he said, “Sure.”
As he neared us the agent reached into his pocket and pulled out that fucking photograph of Wesker, and I noticed Maritza had stopped conversing with the other agent for a moment. Almost as if she had zoned out for a second she shook her head and turned her attention back to him. Clasping my hands, I felt Jill rubbing my arm, quiet as she had been for most of the questioning. “Have you seen this man?” McCoy seemed a bit smug as he held the picture up, and when Byron’s eyes opened even wider he smirked instantly.
“That’s him!” he yelled, jabbing his index finger at the photo. “That’s the guy that kicked me out of here! He even had on those stupid shades then!”
Putting the picture back in his pocket McCoy asked, “Kicked you out?”
With less shock audible he declared, “Shit yeah! Motherfucker waltzed in and kicked me right out. I don’t know his name but that’s definitely her ex-fiancé-”
Once more I jumped to my feet and almost screamed, “What the fuck did you just say?”
Nonchalantly he shook his head and murmured,” Guess she got rid of the ring.” My heart felt like it had dropped into my stomach as I heard Maritza in the background still denying what Byron confirmed, then again she had claimed to not have seen Claire face to face during her traveling months. If what Byron was saying was true then it could only mean one thing and one thing only: Wesker had begun threatening my sister, and he was using her against me because she would never betray me.
There was something I wasn’t being told either. Why was the CDC involved?
Date Unknown, Day Unknown, Time Unknown

Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Cheyenne, Wyoming
Status: Pending
I wanted to reach for the alarm clock that was going off, until I remembered that I didn’t have one, and then I remembered pain. My eyes would not open for some reason, my legs wouldn’t move, my whole body was still and I felt warmth surrounding me that was indescribably comforting. Though my eyes were closed I saw a blond male looking down at me, and though my ears felt clogged I heard a woman screaming, and the voice sounded so familiar yet I couldn’t place it. Was it me?
Then, I felt my body descending, hearing the sound of liquid splashing and draining around me, and my eyes were finally free to take in my surroundings. Encased in glass was how I found myself, and I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t breathing. As I was lowered to the floor beneath me I heard rapid beeping sounds, and I began coughing up the liquid that was stuck inside my throat. In an effort to force all of the liquid up I ended up retching while having to hold myself up on all fours. The metal beneath my naked body was becoming cold, and began to notice the white cords dangling around me.
Ripping them from my arms and head I heard a few final, prolonged beeps, and the glass that imprisoned me slid open to introduce a whoosh of cold air to my exposed skin. As a matted mess my hair clung to me, hugging my waist and back, and when I attempted to stand my knees buckled beneath my own weight. Witnessing how weak I was I attempted to call out, “Help,” but the word was stuck in my throat and my unused voice refused to get any louder than a whisper.
Cold, wet, I struggled to remember where I was and exactly what had happened to me. Screams were all I could remember, and… Wesker.
Palm raised, I looked down to my stomach to find stitches that ran along the bottom of my stomach horizontally, and as I rested my hand on them I recalled the events that led to me being here. I had been pregnant, and my child was inhuman. A sob broke through from me while I remembered Wesker telling me that my- our baby was attempting to kill me to escape from my womb, and he…
Was I dead?
The hour remained unknown to me, the day being as much as a mystery, and for all I knew ten years could have flown by while I stayed frozen in place, buried here for eternity. When no one came I crawled under the nearest desk, failing at an attempt to hide my nude body from the cold, lab air, but not a soul was present. Hugging my knees closely I rested my chin atop them in thought as tears continued to stream down my face with freeness, but I just remembered the baby every time I tried to assess my current circumstances. Something had grown inside of me for an unknown period of time, living off of me and whatever I chose to consume, including alcohol, and that very same life was snatched out of me by its father who was nowhere to be seen. He infected me, and then he left me here to figure out everything on my own.
Desperately I wanted to reach a mirror to check my eyes for any trace of whatever virus was within me, but my legs were still not cooperating with my brain that decided to disregard what I wanted altogether. The sound of metal grating caught my ear, and I hugged my knees tighter to my body, smashing my breasts further up on my chest. Boots sounded against the floor, the footfall waning for a moment, and then they sped up and sounded desperate. Fearing the worst I clamped my hands to my mouth to stop myself from gasping no matter what happened as I saw a long pair of legs appear before me, and then the owner of those limbs turned and bent down.
Though I recognized the man through his stubble and through the dimness of the room I shrank back and braced my hands against the floor. My heart began pounding against my ribcage in either panic or excitement. He was going to kill me for having his baby, and for it not being human. Somehow that notion settled and hatched in my brain, yet as he slowly reached for me I felt calmer, and his large hands took hold of my arms to gently pull me from beneath the desk. Like I was some sort of alien who was unused to human customs he knelt down on one knee to take in the sight of me, and in my nakedness I felt modesty creeping up to remind me that clothes existed and I shouldn’t be sitting there like I was wearing them when in fact I wasn’t.
His voice broke the quiet of the lab in a smooth tone that seemed to resemble one of caring. “Dear heart.” Releasing that breath that had been caged inside of my chest I threw my torso onto him, being accepted into his arms, and he tensed when I nuzzled my face into his neck. Right now I needed warmth, and right now I was also feeling a stronger need that I had to ignore. It could never be that way again.
Date Unknown, Day Unknown, Time Unknown

Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Cheyenne, Wyoming
Status: Pending
In an all white room I sat on an exam table, calmly swinging my legs in the hopes of the strength returning to them maybe by tomorrow but that may have been pushing it. With difficulty I buttoned up the oversized, white shirt, but further progress was interrupted when the vertical sliding door retreated upward to allow Wesker through. Chart in hand, he approached me, setting the clipboard down on the table that held me to finish my undone job of covering my torso. For a moment our eyes locked, reminding me that I had yet to see my own image reflected to me in a mirror, but I wouldn’t push it since I still could barely speak. In the slightest bit of movement he seemed to lean in, his action forcing a deep breath from my lungs, and he stepped back quickly, retrieving his chart.
Clearing his throat of something that probably didn’t exist, he asked formally, “Do you know your name?”
Through the cracking and dryness I managed to rasp out, “Claire Redfield.”
Quickly after I answered he inquired, “Do you know the date?”
Finding that harder to produce I looked down to my thighs, wracking my brain for the date that I was last awake. “April…” I had meant to say thirtieth, but I was too uncertain to give it as a final answer.
With a sigh he scribbled something on his clipboard before setting it on the counter behind him, and he pinched the bridge of his noise. “You’ve been in stasis for six months.”
The first thing that came to mind was, I missed Chris’ birthday, but I didn’t say this out loud. With my mouth ajar I looked to him pleadingly as if he could possibly turn back the clock and return all the time I had lost. “Six months?” I repeated the words as if they had been foreign and I got no sense from them, but I did. “That would make it…”
“November second,” he finished for me, crossing the room to inspect me further. With one hand he lifted my chin, staring down from his mix of red and orange, giving me a view of myself in his eyes. “Your eyes have remained the same,” he informed me, stepping back a bit, and with an apologetic glare he lifted my shirt. Being without a razor for half a year wasn’t exactly ideal, and wearing another person’s underwear was going too far so I just had to endure Wesker’s inspection. Plus, it wasn’t a sexual encounter it was a physical checkup.
“Gone,” he murmured, stepping back to the counter to scribble more on his clipboard.
As I searched for signs of a cesarean section I recalled the day at the ER, then the moment when Wesker informed me that our child would take my life. There was no scar at all. “Maybe every post-labor woman needs to take a vacation to the stasis tank,” I joked, not even cracking a smile at my own attempt at humor.
With more of a business voice than one of caring he asked, “How do you feel?”
Ignoring the urge to explain my emotions I instead decided that since he was referring to my physical state that’s what I’d reply to. “Tired. Like I haven’t been sleeping for six months.”
For a moment he just stood there, studying me, and I felt my cheeks growing red for some reason, possibly because it had been such a long time since I received this much attention from him. Then again, he was most likely watching me every day while I stayed in stasis as the virus bonded with me, and then I wondered if it would be possible to rid me of it at this point. “The body was incinerated, for obvious reasons,” he added while I frowned in confusion.
It took me a while but I realized that he was talking about… I didn’t even know what to call it. “What was the sex?’
Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned back against the counter and pulled a pair of shades from the pocket of his shirt. “There was no sex,” he said evenly, returning his shades to their usual place, hiding his eyes. “If you would like to know details, there’s a report and pictures-”
“No!” I yelled, holding a hand up for him to stop speaking. “I don’t want to…”
Looking down he decided to make an offer that he believed was kind. “If you would like to name it for the purpose of a memorial…”
Closing my eyes, I then covered my face with my hands. “Does it even bother you?” I inquired from behind them. He said nothing, prompting me to look up to make sure that he was still even there. To me it seemed like he was thinking of how to phrase exactly what he wanted to say, but maybe he was just thinking of what to say period. It was highly unlikely that my reaction to his feelings about a child we never got to bond with mattered much to him anyhow.
“That which I do not know,” the blond began, standing up straight, “cannot bother me.” Defeated, my head dropped. “You feel this way because you are a woman. I am not. And I knew nothing of a child until the day it ripped you to shreds on the inside,” he spat, though I was unsure if his anger was aimed at me or our offspring. “It looked me in the eye and snapped its teeth, so remember that when you mourn the loss of something that was clearly not meant to be.”
He moved to leave but I once more looked up to him, almost yelling “Were you lying to me?” At that he stopped dead in his tracks, cocking his head to the side for me to elaborate, but I knew that he required no clarification. “When you told me that you were sterile?” I did anyway.
“Not a lie. Ignorance.”
I wanted to ask him more but he left the room before I could. He’d better be coming back with a wheelchair, was all I could think.
A little while later he returned to retrieve me, supplying me with a much needed wheelchair for transportation. In silence he helped me into some plain, white underwear and a pair of shorts. I guess it was time to leave this place.
“We need to move you somewhere where we can run tests safely,” he said as he helped me into the wheelchair, picking me up bridal style from the table.
When I attempting to propel myself along he surprised me by pushing the wheelchair himself, doing a much better job than I probably could since I’d never had to learn to use one before. “Where are we going?” The elevator dinged and opened, allowing us to enter its car, and he followed my new method of transportation inside.
Pressing a button he answered, “Canada.”
November 3, 2001 Saturday 7:00 AM

Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Mayo, Yukon
Status: Cold and Pissed
When Wesker pressured me to take the three coats he purchased me as carry-on luggage I thought that he had lost his mind, but once we left the airport I understood why it was necessary. We passed a sign that declared, “Welcome to Mayo Heart of the Yukon,” and I thought bitterly to myself, More like the freezer of the Yukon. Right now it was negative four outside and the heater in the car wasn’t helping as much as I expected it would. To occupy myself and take my mind off of how badly my teeth were chattering I read a pamphlet on Red Lodge number two (since I was once more thrown into a place in the middle of nowhere with Wesker that’s what it’d be called).
The record low was fucking negative eighty degrees. Exactly how was I not seeing human popsicles? Maybe they were all buried since this thing said that there were only two hundred and sixty-seven people, and I wished that I could have gained a cool power so I could have maybe melted Wesker with my eyes. Red Lodge had at least two thousand people but this place was like solitary confinement, which was most likely the point.
Right now a blinding, white blanket of snow covered the land but there wasn’t much to see other than trailers, the Bedrock Motel (which looked cute but small), a church, and a few businesses. Finding that the scenery was dull I began reading more about my new home away from home… away from home only to find that a significant chunk of people had no education, but it wasn’t half so it wasn’t as bad as other places I’d read about. Over half the population had never been legally married and apparently there weren’t many people making babies which given the hellish weather here… wait I’d rather be heating up the bedroom than gathering firewood. I saw a few people drive in the opposite direction of us in an old, steel truck and cringed at the thought that soon I’d be as pale as them unless Wesker bought me a tanning bed.
Hmm, at least he’d fit in here.
Finally we turned off of Silver Trail and made our way down a dirt toad that was hidden well by the foliage, and as the car roughly made its way into the clearing I wanted to strangle both the driver and Wesker. The roof of the place we would be staying in was a plain white without the snow and it wasn’t dull because of the clouds blocking the sunlight, and these things didn’t bother me. No, what bothered me was the fact that this vast roof was a bit under eye level: the house was under-fucking-ground.
Frowning at the apparent downgrade in comparison to the residence I occupied in Red Lodge, I whispered to the window, “You gotta be kidding me.” The question I probably should have asked was if this was a lab, but Wesker and I had not spoken since before we boarded the plane that would take us here so we had managed to go a long time in silence. The driver stopped the car and got out to begin taking out our suitcases, and I wondered how I was expected to maneuver the chair in snow.
Wesker immediately answered that question by coming around to my door and lifting me from the seat to carry me. Once I was exposed to the cold air I looked up to his hidden eyes, able to see the red slightly glowing due to the lack of light, and he stared back down into mine for just a few seconds. Like he had broken some rule he quickly carried me to what must have been the front of the underground residence, heading down a metal staircase that was noisy once touched by his boots. He stepped aside so that our driver could unlock the door, leading us into a foyer that had most likely been completely dark until the door opened. The natural light only helped a bit though, but the plain look of the room coupled with the concrete floor made me see that I was missing nothing.
Then the driver stepped to a door with a keypad to the right of it, its numbers ranging from one to zero, and he quickly punched in a few digits. As I heard a beep my grip tightened around Wesker’s neck, and I feared what could have been behind that door. What if it was an oversized lab that was barely warmer than the air outside? The driver turned the knob, the door opening silently, and I was presented with a room that looked to be more of Wesker’s taste than the home in Red Lodge.
The carpet was completely white and looked more comfortable than the black, leather couch that looked nothing like the one in Red Lodge. They were connected to make one long sofa with an armchair on one end and the other was a long section meant for one to lie on. The lamp hung from the ceiling in the shape of a white, oval bowl, and it was a piece that was simple yet undeniably expensive. A fireplace was set into the wall in front of the sofa for show, more than likely it was electric though, and a few pieces of chopped firewood inhabited it. They were probably safe from incineration though since the temperature inside was about to force me out of my coats.
Voices floated down the narrow hallway to the right, and soon I heard the sound of many footsteps approaching. The voices grew louder, one of them high, proper, and belonging to a male. “I told you that it wouldn’t work! I have said it time and time again but you just refuse to listen!” A short, fat man who was balding with red, curly hair only remaining around the side and back of his head came into view. Angrily, he swiped his glasses from their perch on his nose, being followed by slightly younger man in a white, lab coat and he was the complete opposite of the tubbier man.
This man was very tall, even taller than Wesker, but his build was extremely thin and his brown hair was cut low to his scalp. He looked more like a military doctor whereas Tubby looked like he fit in at Umbrella and a Star Trek convention. “We can save this conversation for later,” he hissed, turning to face us with a smile meant to make up for the spectacle his colleague had made, and if they worked for Umbrella then I knew that they wanted for most of their projects to remain a secret.
I had expected an introduction to the two, but instead Wesker only nodded to them and started to the other side of the room. The driver followed us as we headed down another hallway, its mouth opened to the side of the fireplace, and he stopped just after the middle door to the left to allow the chauffeur to open it for us. It was no Red Lodge that’s for sure, and it possessed none of the nice things that my host had gone above and beyond to provide me with. The bed was a twin bed with mounds of blue comforters, and a single, puffed pillow.
The wooden dresser to the left of the bed was clearly only meant to house the necessities and not the endless supply of clothing that I had grown used to being pampered with, and the nightstand itself was plain with one drawer and a small lamp. The closet door was just that, a single door that did not get my hopes up for a grandiose walk-in, and there existed no other door to indicate that I had my own bathroom.
Disappointed, I turned my face into Wesker’s chest and said, “You can sit me down on the bed.” Quickly he answered my request before telling the chauffeur to get the rest of the bags.
Supporting myself with my hands I looked back up at him, watching him linger hesitantly in the doorway. “We will begin your therapy tomorrow. You should be walking just fine in two days. Until then just stretch your legs.”
So this meant that I’d be waiting on him hand and foot until I could get a cup of yogurt for my fucking self and I’d have to further endure more awkward moments between the two of us. As he left me alone in the room I thought of how pathetic my feelings were and how low the mighty had fallen. Wesker had won what could have possibly been the war with Chris seeing as he had taken all that was me and stripped me completely of it. His mouth had at one time owned my, he dictated my every movement to this day, and more importantly I had been a habitat for his seed.
From my thoughts and sadness one looking from the outside in would think that I had never experienced a breakup, and well I hadn’t. Especially not one that ended in a monster ripping my insides to shreds as means of gratitude for housing it. Wesker had been different, and by that I meant that I had never put much thought into what life would become outside of Red Lodge.
You didn’t want to.
It was easy to say to myself that we would part and I’d be fine, but I never analyzed my feelings for him before we went our separate ways. Then once he attempted to fling money at me in order to silence me I had realized exactly how unprepared I was for the fallout. More than anything I wanted to believe that the fondness he proclaimed to feel still existed within his infected body beneath the virus and in his heart. I needed to have some faith in the man he showed me he could be minus the power bestowed upon him by mad scientists, and I needed to believe that he was keeping me near for more than research and study.
As for the… creature, I didn’t know what to believe. Did it feel at all? If I had lived would it have looked me in the eye and ignored all the love that existed under my horror. It may have been a monster but it was my child too. Did it understand “love” or dependence, or did it merely act off of impulse and the strong since of survival?
Did it wonder where its mommy was?
Surely it did not think that it lived within another being and then they just disappeared to let it claw out?
You’re worried about a confirmed monster and you should be asking can you have children after it decided to play shredder.
The voice inside of my head was right. The pregnancy was a mystery to me and when I found out that it would be a failed one my eyes should have snapped open to see that I had no reason to go insane about how I never got around to motherly duties. Right now I needed to know if I could still reproduce, not that I saw myself ever giving birth in the future, but it would be a comfort to know that I didn’t lose everything in my ill-fated liaison with Wesker. Still, I was human -at least I felt human- so it was only expected that I mourn the loss of a child. It would have been worse if Chris found out about it though, so the memory should have died in Cheyenne with the creature, and that way no one would know what I had brought on myself.
It was a creature, and it would remain nameless. It would remain a secret kept between me and the father, and God I hoped that another mistake like that would never come to be again.
For the rest of the day I remained in my bedroom, not hungry for food or for human interaction, and Wesker seemed to accept that. A few times he poked his head in my room to check on me, asking if I needed anything, but each time I ignored him. By the third time I had grown tired of his check-ups and I turned away from the door, silently crying into my pillow about my displacement. I wasn’t just away from home, I was away from America, out in the Yukon where many man lost his life to temperatures forty below and the only person I knew was the man I had given myself to and he had deserted. That’s when a confusing thought hit me: Wesker turned back after my birthday.
That meant that he chose to stay with me for a while and he only left when things became too dangerous.
So had he done it for me? How did he even know that I was in the hospital the day he liberated me from CDC custody? I didn’t want to believe that he cared anymore, I just wanted for him to find out if I was a monster and to send me home. I wanted him to erase me from his memory so that I could begin putting my life back together. So I slept to forget, only to be plagued by visions of his grin, his eyes, and his words. He never would leave me alone would he?
November 4, 2001 Sunday 4:00 AM

Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Mayo, Yukon
Status: Tired
“Get up.” My eyes opened easily, my body’s way of letting me know that I had slept for long enough, and I turned over to see Wesker sitting on my bed with a mug in his hand. When I sat up he held it out to me, but I shook my head grumpily and ruffled my already tousled hair.
With a scratchy throat I rasped, “What time is it?”
“Four.” His answer was short, and I assumed that he was offended that I declined whatever the hell he tried to get me to drink. Instead of asking questions I just pulled back the sheets on my bed, watching the blond go over to the nightstand to set the mug down. With ease he picked me up bridal style, carrying me farther down the hallway to a pristine bathroom with everything the color of cream. The tub looked a lot like the one I had back in Red Lodge, and I then came to the conclusion that though the bedrooms were strictly for the purpose of sleeping, everything else in here was meant for luxury.
Wesker sat me down on the toilet while he drew my bath, knowing that I wanted for it to be hot, and I wished that I could walk on my own right now. The bathroom wasn’t the best place to test out my weak limbs, and I could tell by the feeling of dead weight that it wouldn’t do much good to even try at this point. I wanted to look in the mirror, something that I both avoided and did not have the opportunity to do. He said that there was no change in my eyes, but for some reason I just needed to see that for myself. Without a doubt I was infected (I was alive after all) so there had to be some symptom to prove this.
I didn’t feel super strong, I didn’t see any better, and I couldn’t smell the faintest whiff of deer or anything. So that meant that my appearance had to have been altered in some way, shape, or form right? I waited for the tub to fill, making sure I didn’t make eye contact with my helper, but a few times I felt his eyes lingering on me. When the flow of water ended he neared me, not having to say that I needed to undress, but I tried to think of a way to convince him that I could do it myself.
“You can just sit me on the side of the tub,” I offered, staring down at the squared tiles on the floor. He’d seen me naked for half a year but now I had a choice in how much of me he saw, and I just didn’t think it was ok for him to see me that way anymore. Our sexual relationship had ended which meant that modesty was called for, and it didn’t matter if either of us cared to revisit that time because it would be a waste of time that lead to nothing anyhow.
“I won’t look if you are now worried about humility Miss Redfield.” To demonstrate that he was going to keep to his word he kneeled before me and set his shades on the floor next to him, closing his eyes. “I only expected you to be more adult about the situation.” I flinched at his statement, actually caring that he was disappointed in me, but I tried to shrug it off as I removed my shirt and bra. To signal that I’d need help with my sweat pants I cleared my throat and allowed him to tug them down, and as my panties went with them I made sure that his eyes stayed closed.
“Okay,” I whispered, and he stood to once more take me into his arms. His eyes opened to navigate his way to the bathtub but I didn’t care as long as he wasn’t eyeing me. He kept his head up as he lowered me into the water, and I held my breasts once my body was submerged.
With a sigh of exasperation he said, “I would have employed the help of Dr. Lister, however she is not strong enough to lift you.”
When I heard mention of another woman many thoughts that I had no right to think came to mind: Was she pretty? Did she like Wesker? Did he like her? That sudden surge of anger came out of nowhere when I considered there was competition for a man that I claimed to no longer desire in my bed, but I pushed it aside as “post-break-up-feelings.”
As soon as Wesker left I began washing and scrubbing myself, hating being in any kind of liquid since I was released from my stasis. It reminded me of what I had gone through, and I didn’t need for any of my grief to resurface when Wesker was so close to me. There was no need for him to see my pain when he wouldn’t do anything to make it all better. While waiting for him to return though I did attempt to stand, managing to take a step in the water before my knees buckled beneath my weight, and I felt completely useless as I sank back into the water. He would have to see me naked when he returned…
Oh get over. He saw your unmentionables, got to be inside of you. Just get this all over with, interactions included so that you can get the fuck out and go home.
Could I even go home after what had happened?
Before I could think that over the bathroom door opened and Wesker entered with a towel in hand and I started to drain the water. When I reached up for him he seemed taken aback. Maybe he expected for me to take the towel and wait until all of the water had drained, but then I would be cold. He picked me carefully under my arms and handled me like I had weighed two pounds, sitting my naked body on the rug before him. With no help from him I dried myself off, needing another towel to dry my hair that was about to get cut as soon as I had the chance.
With sad eyes I looked to the mirror above the sink, and once he took notice he scooped me up into his arms once more and stood before it to allow me the chance to see myself. I looked more like Claire than I had before: the pregnancy weight was gone, the glow no longer existed, and the perks of luxurious hair had disappeared as well. My exhaustion showed as my blue eyes looked dull, and the pallor of my skin did not help my appearance. I had some eating and working out to do before I looked like I belonged with the living because this sickly look would not cut it.
Looking up to his shaded face I said, “Thank you.” In my room he helped me dress, there was no awkward tension between the two of us even when his fingers brushed against my skin, and I understood that it was only an accident. A few times I was taken down memory lane like when he would look up at me from the floor, but it was different now. Dressing, not undressing, I told myself.
When he slipped a pair of socks onto my feet he asked, “Are you hungry?”
For a moment I thought, like I had to check my body for permission to speak on it. “No,” I said, confused at my own admission. I had eaten the other day but now I wasn’t sure why the thought of food made me vomit in my mouth. I wasn’t even thirsty.
Wesker frowned; I could tell that he was going over things in his mind. Without permission he picked me up once more and carried me to the hallway the other scientists had emerged from yesterday morning, and to the left at the very end was an elevator that he boarded with me in tow. There was no button to press so I assumed there was only one floor beneath the living quarters, but maybe there was another elevator somewhere else on the floor we were headed to. When it stopped we were let out into another hallway and the left turn led us down an even longer one with automatic doors, but we passed all of those up for the one at the end. The room was about the size of the gym at the house in Red Lodge, and it looked like it as well with the room length mirror and balance bars running along the side of the wall.
It was everything that I expected for it to be. After warming up with resistance training for my legs Wesker massaged my calves for me, his face conveying that it was just business and that there would be no longing stares or “movie worthy” moment where we almost slipped back into our old ways together. I walked along the wall for a while, holding the balance bar and taking forever to reach the end, hating that I felt so helpless in front of -oh hell I guess I could say it- my ex. After my embarrassing therapy we went into a small room meant to be both an office and a lab where my wheelchair waited, and I happily allowed Wesker to place me in it.
He took a sample of my blood and immediately prepped to look at it under a microscope, and he seemed intrigued by whatever it was that he saw. He jotted down notes every now and then in the notebook next to him, sighing heavily to himself before tossing the pen onto the table in frustration.
Almost afraid to, I asked, “What is it?”
For a moment he was silent, rubbing his temples possibly to ease a headache, and nervously I played with the bandage wrapped around my finger. “Do you feel any different at all?”
“Nope,” I replied, managing to lift my legs a bit. I found it easier to be around him when I could fidget. This seemed to annoy him, as he excused himself from the room. Bored and worried about what he could have found I decided to sneak a peek at the notebook he had been taking notes in. As I stuck my hand beneath it to pick it up I felt a sharp pain and I snatched my hands back, the glint of a letter opener caught my eye and I damned my curiosity. I lifted my index finger up to my face to inspect the damage, noticing a large drop of blood gushing forth from the wound and I grimaced at the sight.
I would have some explaining to do.
Carefully, with my thumb I wiped the blood away from the wound, finding no evidence of a cut. “What the hell?” I asked myself, pulling the skin back on my finger to make sure that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. There was nothing in the place of the wound I was sure that I had obtained, and I blinked hard.
Then it hit me that I had found it, my side effect of infection. I could heal in record time. My eyes continued to scan the delicate skin of my finger and I felt dread rising up inside of me now that I knew that I was no longer going to be considered human because of this. And oh my God what kind of experiments would Wesker perform on me to test this new ability out?
The door hissed open and I quickly pretended that nothing was going on, but he seemed to notice my anxiety. “What’s wrong?”
Licking my lips I placed my hands on my lap, hiding my recently injured one beneath the other. “Nothing.” Shrugging off my odd behavior that I failed at hiding, he took his seat once more and I never thought once that I should tell him anything. There was only one person that I could trust here at this point and that was me. Right now I had no one on my side, not Chris and definitely not Wesker.
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