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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
- 24
- 25
- 26
March 21, 2002 Friday 11:02 AM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Sylt, Germany
Status: Thoughtful
I hadn't seen Krauser since dinner the first day he came to us, I just remember him going downstairs with Wesker, and after that he wasn't even mentioned again. I sat at the window in my sweats and gray hoodie, staring out at the rain and gray that had taken over Sylt. This island was what I pictured heaven to be like, beautiful even on its dreariest day, but eventually the paradise got boring. The beaches were no fun, –mainly because I always went alone- German was no longer some awesome and completely foreign language to me now that I noticed it was so similar to English, and today was my twenty-third birthday without a club in sight. I was still young, and I needed to go out, I needed to dance and drink with people my age, and I needed to let Al (yeah we were at that point now) know this but I just didn't want to bother him with the desires that come with fleeting youth. With that thought I let my forehead fall towards the window.
The sound of what I assumed to be Al's footsteps snapped me out of my morose train of thought, and I immediately said, "I'll clean it when I'm done." When I didn't hear him walk away I turned around to see him smirking at me, and it wasn't very often that an occasion rolled by that called for him to smirk. It either meant his brain was churning out ideas which was bad, or that he thought I had done something… cute. "Lunch?" I assumed, pushing myself up and almost forgetting to wipe the smudge I'd left behind off of the window. I made my way towards the kitchen, but a faint glow from the dining room caught my eye. "Are we burning candles?" I looked back and noticed that he was still smirking, so I almost jumped into the room, and I couldn't control the smile that came over my face. Sitting in the middle of the table was a small chocolate frosted cake with twenty-three candles lit on top of it.
Despite this being sweet and simple in comparison to my last birthday present, I looked to him like he'd just given me the key to Harley-Davidson's headquarters. He remembered, and he didn't go overboard like someone who was trying to buy and keep my affections, or so it seemed. Just as I blew out the candles I noticed something gleaming in front of my cake, and he flipped on the lights so I could see. In a simple, red bowled vase a dozen roses rested, but what made them stand out was the texture, these were platinum. I touched one of the full blooms and asked, "Wait are these real?"
He leaned against the doorframe and gave a thoughtful look up at the ceiling. "There's some asinine saying about roses dying and bad luck, so I figured why not make them last forever?"
Before I could even catch myself I ran over to him and threw my body into his for a hug, actually managing to make him wobble a bit. To save myself from embarrassment I stared up at his shades and said calmly, "Thank you." When he showed signs of wanting to kiss me I reached up for his shades and placed them next to us on the small table meant for the plant in the corner; I refused to kiss him now when he had those things on. For a few seconds I looked into his eyes, and he brought his lips down to mine. It had been a while since we had been like this, calm and both in the mood. Lately intimacy between us had been used as a means to go to sleep, or at least pretend that we had spent some time together. I don't know what he had been doing lately, and at this moment it didn't matter.
He brought one hand to my waist and the other cupped my cheek. Running his tongue over my bottom lip almost made me smirk, but instead I allowed him to find my own. I tugged at the front of his shirt, my reward being his grip tightening on my waist, pulling me in even closer to him. The hand that was previously holding my face traveled to the back of my head, taking firm hold of my hair close to the roots. Quickly he leaned down to grab hold of my thigh and lift my leg up, the sign of trouble for the two of us. The cake could wait.
March 21, 2002 Friday 3:06 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Sylt, Germany
Status: Fine
With a smile on my face I stretched my body out, expecting to roll over into Al's bare chest to snuggle, but when I pried my eyes open I was disappointed to find nothing but an imprint in the sheets and mattress of his body. God, it was like he floated out of bed or something, I thought grumpily, placing the palm of my hand on the spot he had laid in not too long ago. Usually he made up his side of the bed at least, and his strange neglect to perform his ritual of quietly tidying up made me worry a little. If it was business I should have heard his phone vibrating for a reminder or a phone call, but there was nothing to indicate that he had something more important to do than fix his side of the bed. Trying to ease my mind, I got out of the bed and straightened out both of our sides just for my own sake. I went through the drawer on his side of the bed and decided to borrow one of his many pairs of identical, black shirts and I grabbed a pair of panties from my own drawer. It may have been late in the day but dammit it was my birthday and I had absolutely nothing else to do.
Just as I was about to leave the bedroom to stuff my face with cake I heard a buzzing coming from the bathroom, and I knew it had to have been Al's phone. About to shrug it off without a second thought I started for the door, until I realized just what I had looked over. He never left his phone laying around, not for anything, and the only reason he could have for abandoning what was essentially his lifeline was that something important was happening. The phone was here so he wasn't too far away. To test my luck I made my way downstairs, looking through the den and living room, hoping that maybe he was sitting down, reading one of those books you had to speak math to understand. Nope, no Al, not even in the kitchen, but then again there was no reason for him to be there. We only ate just so we'd have something to do rather than do it because we needed it. We didn't even need to sleep much now that I thought about it, but there was so little we did together that anything couple-like (human), we did it. Except for going out to dinner, taking walks past the backyard, or taking photos.
Speaking of photos our tables had no picture of us, just vases and statues that took up those places that should have had a happy image of the two of us in a frame. Who was I kidding, Al wasn't going to take a picture with me, not of him smiling in a picture at least, and he couldn't remove his shades for one either. I'd been trying lately though, hoping that in one of my random shots he'd be caught doing something in the background like watching television or staring thoughtfully at something that he was reading. Time interval shots weren't helping me either because he'd either be facing away or ended up blurred due to him striding quickly by.
I was so fucking bored, and so fucking disillusioned by whatever past fantasy I had that the two of us could have some sort of sex-on-the-beach-paradise life. I loved him, he kept me safe, and I didn't need to be here with him but I was choosing to remain at his side. And honestly, it was getting pretty lonely standing there when his mind was always elsewhere. The most attention I'd probably get from him in the coming months would be if I ovulated bi-annually as he hypothesized. His plan was to harvest a few eggs, see it if one could be fertilized, and grow whatever came of it to an age still young enough to where he wouldn't feel bad about terminating it. I mean, I was a pretty liberal person and it was better this way, testing before just trying to get knocked up right?
Damn, I needed some pot to deal with this shit.
March 21, 2002 Friday 3:15 PM
Subject: Krauser, Jack
Location: Sylt, Germany
Status: Fine
The mysterious horrors I encountered in South America had been nibbling at the back of my mind ever since that day I lost my arm. Javier Hidalgo was an impressive result of the labors of Umbrella, his daughter was even more so, and I'd go as far to say that she had been perfection. They were the reason I came all this way, the reason I decided to risk my wellbeing for a second shot at being the man I was before, at least physically. He said there were no guarantees, that even he was at risk for sacrificing himself all for nothing, but in the end it paid off. He was a traitor that put his faith in one, and now I had that very same option. We didn't know what would happen to me, he told me that the virus was unpredictable when injected into live tissue, and that for all he knew I would become something that would cause him to break a sweat in an effort to put me down. Yet, I didn't lose myself like Javier, I didn't succumb to the virus, and I woke up knowing exactly who I was, and what I was about.
I didn't want to cover myself up just yet, didn't want to pry myself away from the mirror image that almost brought me to my knees in an emotional fit. I wanted to stand there forever with my mouth ajar, shirtless, thanking whatever god gave me the strength and courage it took to come find Albert Wesker. With tears in my eyes I laughed to myself, gently grabbing my once ruined arm, almost sobbing to myself at the sensation of my own touch. The scar marring my face was all worth it, the feeling of being useful again. I was no longer that cripple standing in the corner of the train or that soldier that everyone felt obligated to thank, inside knowing that I was nothing to Uncle Sam anymore. They'd turned their backs on me and now I had loyalty to one man and one man alone: Wesker. He hadn't gone over everything just yet, and it seemed he was leaving out a very important detail but all I knew was I better than before thanks to him.
"Mr. Krauser."
Without checking for his reflection I instantly spun around, almost saluting him as my old soldier-boy habits crept up on me. "Sir?" Quickly I slipped on the white tee I had draped over the chair earlier, hoping that he did not see me as vain but appreciative of his efforts. "SirIjustwanttothankyouso-"
He held up a hand to quiet me, a small smirk on his face, and I smiled with a quick bow of my head. Like a predator he circled me, hands held behind his back as he examined his accomplishment. "Your arm has healed up quite nicely, however," he paused as he made his way back around, and it terrified me what that "but" in his voice could have meant. "I am not sure what mutation it may have undergone. It is a pity though seeing as I have a request for tonight."
My eyes widened and once more I began vomiting up words, "SirwhateveritisI'msureIcanhandleit!" I felt like I was back in high school, a pimple-faced virgin, when in reality I was back in my jock stage; powerful and able to crush anyone that got in my way. As a soldier I complained about joint pain, hunger, and worried about events that could ruin my career (rightfully so). Now I felt like I could hop over walls with ease, like I didn't need to eat for weeks, and like I could withstand a barrage of bullets. I wasn't about to test these things out just yet though, not in Wesker's house with Claire here.
"That arm of yours," he began, taking a few steps back, "could cause trouble. And though the last thing I need is a spectacle I have no choice but to trust in your willpower. You survived the transition after all."
What's he getting at, I asked myself.
"As frustrating as trial and error may be, it is Claire's birthday."
I went from skeptical to confused; was I supposed to be playing nanny here? Instead of asking though I kept that thought to myself, a voice in my head reminding me that I had just stated to myself that I would do anything that he asked of me. Well, I could name a few things that wouldn't happen, grateful or not. "What do you need me to do?" I finally asked, hoping that my hesitation didn't offend him.
His smirk disappeared so I knew that it was something he didn't want to do. "She is twenty-three today, and I need you to take her to Berlin. There is a rave she will be attending." His expression became darker as he crossed his arms, closing the gap between us. "I am not worried about her being spotted, it is the perfect place for her to enjoy herself, what I do fear is that she was only recently a college student that enjoyed herself… far beyond her limits. Despite my age it is a rave and it is Berlin and I need not own a Playstation to know what happens in such settings."
Honestly I almost laughed out loud at his train of thought that owning a Playstation would equate to being "hip."
Not sensing that I was choking back laughter that threatened to explode he went on to add boastfully, "I was a '60s child after all."
As I managed to contain myself I grunted, "Gotcha boss."
"You have a six hour journey. Stay the night in Berlin, the last thing I need is for the two of you to sleep the coming days away." Before I could express my gratitude again he patted his pocket and frowned, quickly turning on his heel and walking away. I guess something more important than her birthday was going on, important enough to send her away instead of spending it with her.
March 21, 2002 Friday 4:03 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Sylt, Germany
Status: Skeptical
"Not too sure I can trust you." Krauser grabbed my suitcase that was too big for one night's stay, pretending not to hear my conversation with Wesker but I could tell that he was listening in whenever he passed by. The fact that he never looked at us was a dead giveaway, and if he knew what was good for him he'd keep his eavesdropping to a minimum before I forced the two of them to tell me exactly what the hell happened to where he could use his arm again. This whole secret alliance was making me wonder what Al had been up to recently, and if I should be getting a bomb shelter built for safe measures.
Without looking away from his computer, my significant other only threw out, "It's for your birthday."
As I neared the desk I gave a sigh. "And I'd believe that if you weren't so busy all of the sudden."
His eyes found mine, and I almost clapped at the fact that he was able to tear them away from his email long enough to engage me… or tell me to shut up and enjoy this freedom in a nice manner. "Claire, go have fun."
His words were final, I could tell because he just sat there staring me down, not even looking back to whatever had him so captivated in the first place. I should have learned to listen by now, but I just couldn't help worrying when I knew that something was on his mind. Whatever troubled him troubled me too, because if something happened to him then I'd be up shit creek, or either that I'd be stuck on this fucking island with a bunch of elitist families that looked at me like I'd eat their corgis. That look wasn't appreciated by the way, but what could I do about it anyhow?
Unable to keep himself pried away from the screen for too long he looked back down and instantly began typing. "I will tell you everything when you get back."
Somehow I had learned to trust him, and if he said something would be all right then I had no choice but to nod and go along with his advice. Still, my chest was heavy with worry, the pressure only building as I told my brain that soon we'd be on a plane headed to Berlin to enter a world of glow sticks and acid with Krauser over my shoulder the whole time. What a night tonight would be.
March 21, 2002 Friday 10:00 AM
Subject: Arti, Maritza
Location: Denver, Colorado
Status: Nervous
I hated packing, mainly because I hated unpacking; I'd left suitcases untouched for weeks before just because I hated taking things back out and placing back in their designated spots. Being such a clean woman wasn't an easy feat, and lately I really only wished to get extremely lazy and start throwing dishes, clothes, and anything else unneeded at the time in a big pile. However, I couldn't let my apartment's hygiene suffer, not when I had sensitive information stashed away that Leon would probably blow up a puppy mill over. Speaking of Leon he wasn't even out of bed yet, he just kept asking me if I was sure I didn't need him to come with me. Oh I needed him, I just couldn't have him there for whatever I would be off doing. The pretense under which I was leaving was that my grandmother had fallen ill and I needed to go to Sicily. Of course he wanted to meet my family, but I convinced him that the circumstances were not ideal; the visits from her family were to be about her, not about me and my lover. I think he was glad to get me out of Denver though because he wanted me safe away from whoever hurt Alexei.
However, I'm sure that safe was at the opposite end of the spectrum for me, and I had no clue what I was travelling for. All I knew was that I had to meet an associate of Wesker's from the Yukon at his hotel room by the airport, from there I'd go to the airport with him, and then we'd board a plan to Germany. It was just so hard for me to make myself do this though, and I realized now that I wanted out of this business, however, retirement was a good decade away for me. In ten years I could be long gone before I could cash out to live a happy life that didn't involve me falling in love with a target or keeping a pen-gun on me at all times. Oh God why couldn't I just finish a degree in something like accounting? Hell, I still could have gotten my boobs done on that salary, I could've definitely still afforded that little apartment, and I still would have been able meet Leon. Ugh, why was I questioning my decisions and centering the what ifs around him?
After parking just outside the sleazy looking hotel I let my head fall into the steering wheel, shutting my eyes so tightly that I felt a slight discomfort. Just as I was about to further berate myself and my decisions of the past I heard a light tapping noise against my window, and I looked up to who I assumed was Doctor Seaborne. Leaning over the cup holder I unlocked the passenger door and pushed it open for him.
I watched him as he threw some luggage in my back seat, not sure what I was expecting to happen. Maybe I expected to see him gingerly place something back there, something like a bomb, but I should have known better. Wesker and his close associates were not ones for those acts of terror. They were more subtle, and probably found explosions to be tacky and tasteless. For men so orderly, it was unlikely that they would partake in something that was responsible for so much chaos.
Quickly he ducked inside of the car and before he buckled himself in he set a thin, black briefcase on the floor in front of him. "Before we go to the airport I need you to stop at the little pharmacy down the street.
I didn't trust this guy, because I didn't trust people who had to swap briefcases, and I especially didn't trust him because he was a scientist that needed a bodyguard. After he was secured in his seat I quickly backed out of the parking spot, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. Then again I'd have to simply endure the flight across the world with him, hoping that no one decided to shoot us down for simply being affiliated with Wesker. I needed to calm down, no one knew, and no one would. I took a deep breath and turned onto the main street.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands I managed to find the words I had been searching for. "So, what's in the case?" Blunt yes, but I figured this was necessary.
I heard the smile in his voice as he said, "Hope." As we neared the pharmacy I saw a white transporter truck get into the lane behind me, the driver looking all too average to be just another driver out in the city for a shipment. Once I got into the turning lane he quickly did the same, and once the way was clear of oncoming traffic I turned into the pharmacy's parking lot, driving around back so no one would witness this. It was unnecessary for lives to be lost over something like this, and more importantly, I didn't need the blood of innocents on my hands after I had managed to avoid it for so long. I put the car in park and kept Seaborne in my peripheral, noticing how quickly he grabbed the suitcase before heading over to the driver who had just stepped out of his truck. They traded, and I felt for a moment that I needed to run the two of them over, because whatever was going on couldn't be good, especially if they were not being as inconspicuous as people working for my employer should have been.
With a sigh of regret I loosened the vice grip I'd had on the wheel, forcing myself to breathe out deeply, trying to force my body into believing that the situation was not a stressful one. But oh it was, mainly because I had no idea what the hell was going on.
Once Seaborne was back in the car I was already backing out, ready to get to the airport, ready to have that suitcase away from this city and Leon. I didn't care if it was only going to be around others once we touched down in Germany, I didn't care if I'd be around it the entire plane ride over, all I cared about was making sure that my job didn't ruin one man's life. He didn't ask to be a part of this, he never did.
"Ms. Arti?" Dr. Frankenstein had been staring at me for the longest apparently. Well, now it was apparent, because my mind had been so preoccupied that I was navigating through this traffic like I was on autopilot, something I tried to avoid falling into when on the road.
"Sir?" I asked, not trying to be polite because of what I felt, but because he was in charge of me for now, and therefore I had no choice but to treat him with respect. I was a soldier in a sense, and there was a chain of command that I had to follow no matter how much I disagreed with the circumstances.
"You seem quite bothered." His voice sounded like it held concern, but more so the kind one displayed for a child when they weren't getting their way, not the kind you showed for an adult with real problems. However, I'm quite sure he didn't seem to think there should have been a problem.
Instead of answering him, I merely shook my head with the smallest smile on my lips, one that I knew looked sad, betraying me and what I wanted to convey as a drone's apathy to how things were done. I was supposed to care about the job being done period.
March 21, 2002 Friday 11:00 AM
We were in a private plane; I'm not sure who owned it, probably Wesker. Hopefully Wesker, because then I'd know the agent on board was there to protect us, not there for a suicide mission to take us all down. I saw Seaborne get up to go the restroom once we were up in the air and he'd been gone a while, so I pulled out my cell quickly, looking around like I was guilty of some heinous crime. With a deep breath I dialed my apartment number, hoping that Leon didn't get too bored and go back to Washington. I needed to say something to him, but what could I tell him that wasn't an absolute lie? So like a coward, I hung up, unable to go through with telling him how I excited I'd be to see my No-No, how worried we all were about my grandmother's condition. As I shut my eyes and muttered to myself I felt Dr. Seaborne sweep by me to take his seat across from me, and as much as I wanted to instantly fall asleep and just wake up in Germany, I knew that my anxiety would prevent that from happening. So pried my lids open to stare him in his pretentious face, hating that smile of his, those stupid, rectangular glasses that sat low on his long nose, and his hairline that was receding slightly around the sides.
The guy looked like the kind of doctor that had no problem doing what he could to get ahead, and being that he worked for the same guy I did, I was pretty sure that's exactly who he was. He was a black market doctor, one that money could sell and buy for the most asinine experiments, and for that he was to be feared.
I must have been caught staring because he said, "You look like something is on your mind Agent Arti."
"I'm not paid to offer my opinion," I admitted, feeling less powerful than I acted. I wasn't sure how he'd react to me asking questions, and I wasn't sure how Wesker would react if the dear doctor were to air his concerns about my independent thinking.
"Oh come, I wouldn't be a scientist if didn't ask questions. I encourage everyone to do so." He straightened out his tie and sat back into the leather, crossing a long leg over the other. "Could I get a glass of red wine please?" He called, assuming that someone would do his bidding without any specifications needed.
Though I intended to display arrogance since apathy wasn't an option, I ended up showing that I was unsure about playing his little game by biting at my bottom lip. "Why do you need me to assist you to Germany?" It would have been too straightforward, too dumb to outright ask why we were going, instead I needed to question why my presence was necessary. Why did I need to leave my post so suddenly when Sergei was just now starting to slip up?
As if he saw right through me he gave a smirk at the carpet, looking back up only when the fake, redheaded flight attendant came over with a cart. Her lips were painted a darker red than her dye job, her skin not too pale, but it helped give her back the naturalness that the hair took away. She didn't smile as she poured a huge glass of something I had never heard of for Seaborne. No doubt it was some elitist shit he could only afford after he began working for our employer. He nodded as she handed it over to him.
In a voice that came out both soft and sexy she asked me, "Would you like anything?"
Without looking away from the doctor I said, "Cranberry juice and Vodka." My request seemed to amuse him, because his smirk grew even wider as he took a sip of his drink. He should have been happy that I didn't ask for what I really wanted, which was a straight shot of tequila, but I decided to show some respect for this job by at least watering it down.
After taking a sip from his glass, the scientist gave a look of satisfaction and looked back to me with the widest smirk his face could hold. "There is important work I have been summoned to take part of Ms. Arti."
Tired of his pompous attitude I snapped, "It's Maritza. And there's no way you were Claire's gynecologist with this attitude so I suggest whatever act you have going on, needs to stop."
As the flight attendant handed me my drink I saw her trying to prevent a smile of amusement from forming, something which bolstered my own ego.
"Cheers," I said, tilting my glass to Seaborne.
Looking wounded, set his drink on the tray next to him. "How do you know about that?"
With a laugh I sat back into the chair, crossing my legs. "How disposable do you think I am to Wesker?" I knew he wouldn't dare answer since my show of arrogance that rivaled his own, so I didn't leave him any room to answer. "My position does not ensure complete disclosure, however, given that Claire is important to our employer and I'm the one looking out for her reputation it's a given that I know of any preexisting relationship a colleague of mine may have with her. It's imperative that I know the nature of the relationship, but not that I know of any work you are sent to take part of with Wesker." Feeling quite content with my accomplishment of wiping the smug from his face, I took a swallow of my beverage before placing it in the cup holder.
His chest rose and fell in defeat, and I knew that I was right. Claire wouldn't let this guy touch her voluntarily if he was as big of an ass as he was acting right now, and this had to be a defense to keep him from spilling any info while also acting as a method to keep me at bay. "Claire and our employer could change the future," he sighed. "And I could be a part of this. BOW's were supposed to be constantly manufactured. If they could be bred-"
"What?!" I almost jumped forward once I began to grasp what he was saying. "Are you crazy?! You want a nest of humping Hunters running around?!"
His voice rose louder than mine as he jumped to his feet to vehemently defend his work. "Do you have any idea the amount of patience, money, and donors it takes to create one Tyrant?! One that could for all we know be unstable? If Ms. Redfield and Doctor Wesker could produce a child that has some sliver of humanity do you know what that could do for our work? The human race could be made invincible! We could withstand just about anything! Our descendents would no longer be susceptible to AIDS, Ebola, Malaria, and the longevity would be icing on the cake-"
My outrage would trump his passion. "We wouldn't be human! You think we could just birth super soldiers that would bow down to mommy and daddy when they know they could live without us? They'd be as much human as your little chimeras. We've manipulated viruses enough Doctor! They've been on this planet a lot longer than we have, and they're a lot better at ensuring it stays that way. There's a drawback to Claire's infection and obviously to Wesker's if he can't knock up an uninfected woman without killing her and producing something from an Alien movie! I mean have you ever heard of two people infected with something giving birth to a fucking mutant with special powers?"
Shaking his head, he slumped back into his chair and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. "You obviously don't understand DNA. You know nothing about-"
"What? Manipulating phenotypes and chromosomes? Genetically altered babies? Three parents to a child? Yeah, mainstream media doesn't know what happens behind government doors but I do. And I know that you and yours are at least a century ahead of them, which is only half of that ahead of where we think we are. I thought you guys were smart."
The cabin grew quiet, and I let my eyes wander to the closed window. Sighing to myself, I pushed up the shade and stared out the mixture of blue and white surrounding us. Seaborne didn't even exist in my peripheral I was so lost in thought. I wasn't sure what to think of everything I had just heard, not when I knew that the relationship between Claire and Wesker had more to it than what even Leon saw or felt. A part of me nagged that this was what Wesker was about, while some small piece of me that had been reduced to sniveling sentiment shouted that maybe he wanted for Claire to have this as some consolation prize. That part of me, however, took that idea and ran with it as it began chattering excitedly that he wanted to give her a baby, to give her a legacy. It said that it would be the greatest thing he could do for her at this point, something to love, something to protect so she wouldn't have to constantly be the protected, and something he could use to prove… It trailed off there; the sentimental fraction of me couldn't even dare to suggest that what he felt for her was love.
With a small, sad laugh, I picked up my glass, choking back a sudden desire to cry. I couldn't even say I really loved Leon. No good person would be doing what I was doing and claiming there was love involved. It felt like love, but my omissions kept it from being that, and it felt like someone had taken hold of my heart in that moment. When I caught Seaborne staring at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking I took a gulp of the juice and liquor. My eyes wandered to seated attendant. "Six shots of Patron."
With his spirit crushed almost as badly as mine, the doctor popped the button at the top of his collar. This was going to be a long flight.
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