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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
- 28
- 29
- 30
Optio
Chapter 29: In Aeternum
April 7, 2002 Sunday 7:08 AM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Sylt, Germany
Status: Fine
The word blissful was never one I used to describe my mood too often; after all it seemed so dramatic of an expression. Yet what else could I say to illustrate what it felt like to be trying to pack for a trip where I’d have some human contact, and though I’d have to overlook who the company was it was still enough for me to get excited over. The blush that I was sure was on my face though was caused by something more immediate, more physical. “We have to get ready,” I whispered, a set of lips lining my jaw with kisses, eventually trailing down to my neck. Red Lodge was more than a distant memory, the stolen kisses, the quickies that resulted in leaving much later than intended, they were all back. I had no idea what had gotten into Al these past few days, but who was I to deny him the chance to act like a love struck boy? My hands rested on his shoulders, the material of his black turtleneck soft to the touch, and their abandoned purpose for being there was to hold him back so that I could find my carryon. His affections were not letting up though as an arm pulled me up to my tip-toes, his hand gripping my behind while he took advantage of my closeness by stealing a kiss that I couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Sir the plane is- Oh!” Jack’s interruption was welcomed, although it was begrudgingly admitted by me, but we had to get going and Al was making it more and more difficult to stay on my feet and out of the bed. “I’m sorry, I usually knock but you guys are gonna miss your own private flight if you don’t get going.” His sentence was so fast that it was almost jumbled, forcing me to replay the statement a few times in my head.
As I looked around for the red and black pack it felt like Al still refused to let go of me, and as he gave a sigh of exasperation I immediately took a step back to check under the bed. Lo and behold there it was. In the past Al wanted me to carry some fancy bag with me, but I felt more secure with a backpack strapped over both my shoulders. This pack was merely coming to give me peace of mind, a sense of liberty since I had no clue what to bring to this fancy gala or whatever they were calling it. My outfits were already picked out for me, shipped over to the estate and to our room. I was sure there would be a larger selection of dresses than I needed in all sorts of different materials: charmeuse, satin, maybe even a poly-cotton blend since he knew I wasn’t for all these fancy things. Sure I enjoyed these houses, not having to worry about what to wear, and money never being an object, but if he wanted to move back to a small town I’d be fine with that.
Before we headed out the door, he grabbed me by the waist, almost making me forget what Jack had just said.
“Hey,” I whispered, “today’s a good a time as any for me to join the ‘Mile High Club.’” While I managed to a get a tiny smirk out of him, I found one creeping across my own mouth, and he once more let me go.
The drive over to the airport was a short one, made to seem longer because of the awkward silence; Jack didn’t seem too excited about being left in Sylt while we jetted off to another country without him.
After a few fake takes out the window of the limousine he finally looked back to us, Al preoccupied with text messages on his phone. “Where are you guys going?”
As Jack waited for a reply we were met with the sound of Al’s fingers quickly hitting the buttons on his phone. “Dubai.”
“A what?” I blurted out, frowning so hard that my head began to hurt.
“It’s in the Middle East?”Apparently Jack wasn’t familiar with it either, and I felt dumb for assuming for a moment that because he was a soldier he should know everything.
“Yes.” He finally put his phone away as we neared the small airport. “I assure you that I will be with Claire at all times.” It was so backwards for him to say that, but Jack took this job seriously, something that I was grateful for. Though I wasn’t thoroughly filled in on the events of 9/11 I knew Jack worried about me traveling period, but this trip was with Albert Wesker and people like him. It would be fine.
Twirling a strand of my freshly, dyed hair, I tried to avoid making eye contact with Jack. There was nothing I could say to make him feel better, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to beg for him to be brought on the trip with us. For a few days I didn’t want to deal with Jack being just outside our door as we attempted to… well act as a couple did behind closed doors, and this was going to feel like real time alone with him. We would be set up in an estate with other rooms, other people sure, but I’d think of it as a vacation where we lodged in a hotel. I knew he had other things to do, but while we were here it would be more play than work. According to him it was an event where pharmaceutical companies’ CEOs and representatives met to basically enter in a dick measuring contest. I wasn’t sure who Al was representing or maybe he was there to merely auction off his abilities, but I wasn’t sure the reason he gave me was the only one. He’d said that he still had friends in that world, friends who were willing to still bet on him despite not understanding his full role in the Raccoon City outbreak. These people had continued to show interest in his current business moves, and I didn’t even know that he’d been making any recently.
The last time I saw any sign of him being employed was during the Veronica outbreaks on Rockfort and in the Antarctica base. I’d never heard of HCF before that and I hadn’t heard of it since then. Come to think of it I don’t even think he was employed by them… Before I confused myself and got into a snooping mood I picked up my pack to make sure I had everything I’d meant to put inside. A few books, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a blanket, and a tablet with a pen secured onto the spiral. Since this was a private plane I was sure we would be flying with everything we’d possibly need, but as I said before, I needed this peace of mind. So those trivial items were important to me.
We got through the tiny airport fairly easily; a passport for Illyria Wishkar was kept on my person while Al had his. I never asked to see his; I just knew the first name was Edward from a glance, but I didn’t pry. I’d learned in South America that this could only continue to work if I didn’t ask too many questions, and just tell myself that Al had my best interest at heart. This also meant accepting that sometimes he would do things to hurt other people or completely disregard their wellbeing, only taking him and myself into account. This was my world now, and everyone who wasn’t us was against us.
April 7, 2002 Sunday 2:45 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Status: Fine
Seven hours on a private plan went by a lot faster than I expected, mostly because I was able to actually fall asleep thanks to Al. Once we made it to Dubai I was nervous, because though we were at a private hangar there was always the fear of there being someone from America that knew who we were. We were met with another limousine, allowed to bypass the actual airport and the security. Obviously whoever was hosting this thing was a powerful person, and one that put a lot of his faith in big pharma… lovely person I was sure.
On the drive over we stayed pretty quiet, me sitting on the opposite side; I didn’t want to smother him though he seemed fine with doing just that to me. Right now I was impressed by the architecture. The buildings were tall, somehow sparkling in the sunlight, and there were plenty of them. I had no idea that there was another Las Vegas in the world, but even with that comparison I had to admit that it looked slightly barer. It was quite obvious that more building was going to take place, something that was exciting but made me question the city.
Al must have seen me staring because he crept over to my side and took a seat next to me. “In a few years this will be the most expensive country in the world.”
Our gazes met. “How do you know?”
“The prince is a powerful man who has great ambition. Perhaps we will make a trip back in a few years.”
I didn’t want to smile but I did. Everything was new all over again and I could tell that he was milking it for all it was worth. Maybe he thought that we now had a chance to do things somewhat right, and despite me not being able to conjure up a vision of Albert Wesker “courting,” I wouldn’t ruin this for us. Happy was not a word you would use to describe him or his mood, seeing as he came off as possessing only one: pensive. What else was I supposed to say?
“Quite a few things will happen next year.”
“What do you mean?” Without realizing it I had gotten closer to him, probably something he had planned for given his affectionate mood as of late.
My inquisitiveness brought a smirk to his face, one that said he was keeping the details a secret, but he’d throw me a bone. “We should be able to travel more safely by next year.”
My mouth fell open, a single laugh leaving it, and I fought the urge to throw myself onto him. “So we’ll be able to use our real names?”
“I cannot promise that we will be safe everywhere, and we will continue to take precautions, but we should be able to travel under our names when it’s necessary.”
“How?!” I almost yelled.
With a shake of his head he said quietly, “You will find out. There is a debt that I owe, and repaying it will also benefit me.”
Though I wanted to lay off on the hugs and kisses just because it wasn’t our normal behavior I couldn’t help myself when I jumped onto his lap and kissed him. This was the best gift he could give me as of today. “Please tell me there are no more surprises because otherwise I’m gonna have a heart attack,” I giggled.
“I make no promises.”
“What else could there be?”
His expression was devilish, something that enticed me even further, and I wanted to give in to his little game. There was no point in telling him no since I’d missed most of the city; his latest revelation made sure of that, but he did promise to bring me back when it was built up a bit more. So now I was stuck here, the two of us staring at one another, neither knowing what to do, only one of us knowing what we wanted. While lost in thought I suddenly felt his hand on my thigh, the leather smooth against my jeans, his grip tightening as his fingers inched towards the inside. A haze fell over me, a breath caught in my throat, and I struggled as my body begged me to give in to him. As I grappled with my brain and my body I felt the car come to a stop, a feeling of relief washing away my doubt over the moment, and to take my mind off of it I bent my neck to look out the window.
The estate was massive, larger than any other mansion I’d seen so far. More than likely the owner couldn’t even count the bedrooms, and more than likely it was nothing more than a home he occupied on vacations and holidays. Though the limo came to a stop, I felt it was appropriate to wait for Al. I had no desire to look as impressed as I truly was, like a child on their way to an amusement park. Because Al was still looking at me, his hand still on my lap, I gave a small smile, really wanting to get a better view of the “palace” behind him.
“We have so much time for more of that later,” I whispered. Our sex life had taken a very positive turn, and thankfully I had gotten my stamina up to continue these four sessions a day. My body was different, my ability to heal instantly being the main attribute, but eventually I would tire. There was a chance my body would go into its mode survival if I got too fatigued. Though I wasn’t sure what had gotten into Al and though I appreciated the affections he lavished me with, I was very curious as to what brought this change about. He was working less, he was smirking more, and sometimes I think he wanted to tell me things he would’ve never uttered before. When we’d had sex this morning he was so spontaneous, waking me up with nuzzling and kisses. When we had sex on the plane he took me with such want that I’d feared he felt something was quite possibly going to go wrong. His gaze told me that he wanted me now, to hold the limo for a quickie but I wanted to test him, to see exactly what deprivation of my affections would drive him to do.
Tonight would he pull me out of the party into a hallway, to tear my dress to shreds, or would he be able to feign indifference throughout the event? Our life had become a honeymoon where we snuck off to be alone, where we missed everything happening around us because we were lost in each other’s eyes, held there by our own chemical responses. We unintentionally controlled one another, losing time, and essentially he’d lost his old self. This led me to believe that he still had a sense of who he was, but I truly believed that right now he transforming for me, becoming someone that I could never reject. Albert Wesker was in love with me, Claire Redfield. In an attempt to not become too mesmerized by that realization, I grabbed his hand.
“Today is gonna be perfect. And for that, I thank you. Because now I know.”
His body leaned forward, his lips pressing into my forehead. “You’re welcome,” he whispered before pulling away. He turned to open the door, a bright stream of sunlight pouring into the cab, blinding me momentarily.
Scooting to the door, I saw a gloved hand reach for my own, and I was accepting of the assistance. Once my body left the cab completely I was hit with a dry heat that managed to wrangle my attention away from the white and gold mansion. The gloved hand squeezed my own, making me wonder how the hell he could wear a full black suit and gloves when it had to be over one hundred degrees out. Somehow, through the brightness I managed to see palm trees, shrubs, and features of that palace. Windows lined the front, all the style you would think you’d only see in some movie that merely pretended to be set in the Middle East. Golden turrets were set high on the building, numerous archways lined the front, and a set of golden doors reaching far above us welcomed us. As I stood there confused on whether or not to knock, the doors flew in, producing a short, round man with tan skin and a hooked nose in white robes and a white ghutra.
“Albert!” The shouting man ushered us inside, his deep, brown eyes twinkling with genuine joy at our arrival. “You are late!”
I didn’t move until I saw Al step forward, and I followed cautiously. Inside it was much cooler, the foyer as big as a house on its own. Everything in here was white as well, including the floor, but at least that wasn’t trimmed with gold but it did show our reflections clearly as if it were a mirror. Portraits lined the wall upstairs, possibly containing the faces of our host’s ancestors, and a couple of ficus houseplants occupied corners while small trees were housed in giant, gold vases on either side of the stairwell. To the right and left of us there were doorways that almost reached the ceiling, from both directions I heard women and men speaking in a tongue that I didn’t recognize.
“This must be Claire!” the man cried, almost making me jump. When I looked at him his hand was extended towards me, “I am Mr. M.!”
Shaking his hand I smiled uneasily. “Nice to meet you.” Mr. M. wasn’t too bad of a guy once you got over his constant yelling that he considered to be at a conversational volume. It wasn’t too difficult to ignore it though once we were being showed the ballroom where the event would take place. Though it didn’t deviate in its color from the rest of the house it was draped with sheer, white veils that were hung in random places but they managed to come together to create a beautiful sight. The room was larger than the foyer, white chaise lounges here and there, little, gold tables next to them meant to hold drinks. Towards the front of the room the floor was elevated into the shape of a stage, a few steps leading up. It was all beautiful, though I couldn’t help but question Mr. M.’s obsession with white and gold. I was sure that I would enjoy my time here though, but if he was going to continue yelling at me then I hoped it wouldn’t be that much time.
So far Mr. M. had continued to be a friendly man, one who was eccentric, full of hope and joy, and this also led me to believe that he had a side darker than Al. Towards his servants he was kind yet appropriately dismissive as to demonstrate to them that no lines would be blurred. Mr. M. was introduced as a great businessman and he was indeed showing me that by simply presenting himself as being in charge of this estate. He would not turn down his nose at them, yet he would not allow them to think that they were on the same level. Mr. M. demanded respect, a demand that I would comply with as a guest, as would Al.
April 7, 2002 Sunday 3:46 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Status: Fine
We watched a few maids drag in our bags, bowing their heads before leaving us to take in the room’s beauty. Everything was white in our room as well and the plush carpets that would feel like heaven under my bare feet looked so inviting. The upper level of the room was designated as the rest area. The bed was filled with pillows that would more than likely be tossed onto the armchair at the end of the night and the bench in front of the bed would more than likely go ignored. There was a set of doors next to the bed that more than likely guarded a walk-in closet, and a single door on the lower level of the other side of the room was opened to reveal a bathroom. From what I can see it was a sky-blue color, a reprieve from the white in every other room in the house. The level of the room that we stood on now had a loveseat facing the television set into the wall, a little coffee table in front of it holding a large, gold tray of what I assumed was meant to be our meal. My eyes wandered back to those sheets on the bed that looked so fluffed that it appeared they’d deflate when I jumped onto it, but I would not test that theory just yet; I wouldn’t get up from that bed if Al witnessed another opportunity. Rest was certainly on my mind but we had an even to get dressed for, and I was sure that I had a wide selection of dresses to choose from for tonight.
So despite my desire to plop down and chill for a moment I walked over to the closet doors, opening them to find that what was supposed to be a space merely for housing clothes was another room in itself. Both sides had two racks, one on top of the other with drawers underneath them, the right side reserved for Al’s suits, the left reserved for my dresses. It seemed so much fuss went into this when I’d only need one dress for this one event. Chiffon, silk, sequined dresses all set up for me. I’d definitely reject anything sequined. Immediately one dress caught my eyes though. It was black and it looked simple enough sitting there, stuffed between two fancy dresses covered in rhinestones. It was a stretchy material that was ruched in the front, the top draping down slightly but not offering too much room for exposure. The back was open the right amount, but at the top there was material bonded so that the dress would stay around my neck securely. As I held it up to me I was pleased to find that it’d reach past my knees. This was it.
April 7, 2002 Sunday 7:23 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Status: Fine
The black, ruched dress hugged my body nicely, not pinching too much in the wrong places, but just right. Somehow I was managing to walk gracefully in my sky-high heels, elevating me by about seven inches and making it a little easier to reach Al’s face, but I would make sure to control my impulses to be affectionate towards him while we were around these fat-cats. As we entered the ballroom I felt a little self-conscious; most of the people here were older couples so the women were dressed a bit more refined. There was no harm in me enjoying my youth I suppose though, it just bothered me that these women came from money or married into it and reformed themselves all to fit in with those who were considered the upper crust, wearing the finest in fashion when I could only throw out the name Vivienne without even knowing what an outfit from her would look like. For a moment this got me down; I don’t think Al cared about dressing up in a $2000 suit, but he just did it because he could whereas I had no idea where to even start. I guess the label would speak for itself in my case though, no accessories needed, just the tag discarded in my trash bin that would say $465. God I wanted to be naked in my room right now.
“Are you all right?” Al’s question caught me off guard as we slowly made our way towards the crowd, and as I snapped my head in his direction my ringlets flew behind me, tickling my back.
“It’s just a little… intimidating.” My admission made me feel inadequate, like I didn’t belong here and I really didn’t. Then again to think such a thing meant admitting that I didn’t belong at his side when that’s the only place in the world I could see myself. “I guess I need to conform or something-”
Mid-stride he spun to face me, grabbing my arms to hold me in place. “Claire, you do not have to change. If I wanted to be with any of these women then I would be here with one of them. Though we may not be the same in our actions, we are the same in our tenacity.”
A small smile crept across my lips as I let his words sink in, all those little worries dissolving. I didn’t see him as saying that I was worthy, as if I had some test to pass and I exceeded his expectations. I saw this as him saying that I was a challenge and an individual whose rights he would not rob, and he would leave me to think or feel or dress however the hell I wanted as long as I remained the person I was. Feeling more confident, I was about to turn back to continue walking, but he didn’t let go.
“And you Claire Redfield are not boring.”
Unable to contain how grateful I was for that, I moved in and he leaned down to kiss me on my lips.
“Ah Albert Wesker! Always fashionably late!” Mr. M.’s voice was not what was so unmistakable, it was his volume. Though he did not scare us into cutting our PDA short I did immediately turn to face him, knowing that he deserved the attention he sought, and I would not be rude to a host so gracious. He was also loyal to Al and that in and of itself made me respect him.
Mr. M. was wearing a black suit as well, but his white ghutra was still atop his head and I really didn’t expect it to go anywhere. I wasn’t too conversant with the customs of the Middle East, not even knowing where Mr. M. was from exactly, but the fact that he gave an initial as his name told me that he had no intention on divulging that much information.
“How you liking your room?!” He asked excitedly, however, his jovial disposition was not infectious which led to me smiling back in what I felt was an awkward fashion. Thankfully I fooled everyone else pretty easily though.
Since Al only smiled cordially I assumed he was going to leave the talking to me, which I guess was an opportunity for me to practice at watching my mouth. He may have liked me the way I was but I wanted to grow up just a little bit for my own sake. “Everything is great Mr. M. and your home is beautiful. Thank you so much for having us.”
He waved his hand to say that it was no big deal. “Claire, Albert is like a son to me! I love this man! All I ask is that when you have a son, you name him after me, yes? What kind of name is M. for a baby? I kid!” Thank God. “But I have to go make sure everyone here has good time, so Albert you have fun, Claire you have fun! Don’t worry about everything else, just know that it was taken care of the second people heard your name!” Mr. M. came in to give Al a hug, a sight that was a little odd, and then he crushed me in an embrace next, kissing my cheek before yelling across the room to another partygoer and walking off. That man.
Al and I continued to walk through the crowd; he nodded here and there at different people who either nodded back or raised their glasses of champagne. Two people were standing in front of us, one of them an older man with silver hair that was slicked back, curling at the ends of the strands. His skin was an olive tone, his suit gray, and he was barely 5’7. The woman next to him was about 5’9 with lighter skin and a bit of weight on her, but her build and curves made it a little less noticeable. Her dress draped down in the front as did mine, but she was exposing far more cleavage than me. Actually her breasts were pretty much exposed. The back of her dress didn’t exist until just above her ass and because of that and its tacky, gold color I felt a bit better about my own dress. The woman’s cheeks were a bit fat, and her skin around her eyes were darkened with makeup, making her clear, blue eyes that were too high on her face seem more intense as she stared intently at Al. She had a thin nose, slightly pointed and a wide jaw with almost-full lips that were smothered in gloss. As she tilted her head to the side I noticed how long her neck was, and that coupled with her oversized, black bun of hair made her seem taller than she really was.
“Dr. Wesker,” the man said in a deep voice that sounded like the rumble of thunder, his accent Italian. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Ciao Dr.,” the woman purred, completely ignoring that I was standing next to Al. I also took note that she was also Italian.
“Dr. Gionne, Excella,” he said with a nod. “I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl.”
“I’m nineteen now!” she said excitedly, reaching at him like she initially meant to slap his arm, but she seemed to realize that that wasn’t a good idea.
He looked down at me and said, “This is my partner, Claire Redfield.”
I smiled, faking that I hadn’t thrown my manners out the window the second she let her eyes rove over Al like he was a piece of meat meant for her. Hungry bitch alert, I thought, almost rolling my eyes.
Before I could say hello Excella asked, “For which company does she work?” Excella’s question seemed stupid because of her tone and smile. She was completely oblivious to our relationship, but what could I expect seeing as I wasn’t known in this world.
“Penso che lei è la sua fidanzata.” Mr. Gionne seemed to be a bit embarrassed as he smiled nervously at who I assumed to be his daughter since I doubt she’d show so much interest in Al in front of her sugar daddy.
Al rested his hand on the small of my back. “Si, è la mia fidanzata… Per ora.” He finished his sentence with a smirk, and I wished I knew what he was saying so I could smirk with a purpose rather than just mimic his expressions. This however, solidified any relationship in the eyes of the public it seemed, when two people were so in sync that it was hard to tell where one’s personality ended and the other’s started.
“Ahhhhh!” Mr. Gionne’s smile grew wider.
His daughter’s smile changed however, almost becoming as fake as my own, except I could tell that hers was phony. “I wish you all the best.”
As they said their goodbyes I noticed that Al had been tense during this conversation, something that struck me as odd. Moving closer to him I asked, “Who are they?”
“The Gionnes.” He gaze was on them until they both disappeared into the crowd. “Their family founded Tricell. I’d never fall in bed with them; they’re barely a step above common mobsters.”
That’s good to know, I thought to myself, placing my free hand on his arm to calm to him. Something about those two seemed to throw him off his game, or maybe he’d put too much effort in trying to be nice because usually he didn’t smile so much.
“Dr. Gionne is a good man, but the same cannot be said for the rest of his family and those involved with Tricell.”
Suddenly the crowd had quieted, making me think that they had heard him, but when I looked up everyone was looking to the stage where Mr. M. stood with a huge smile on his face. Thankfully there was no microphone present because I was sure that he wouldn’t need any aid in being heard. His announcement was quick, to the point, and we all understood what he was saying was about Al. Everyone here was throwing their hat in with him that much was clear, however, I couldn’t understand what they were all throwing their hats in for. There was a business venture involved no doubt, but there was no explanation as to what this was. They would blindly follow from what I could tell, and once this hit me I was not interested in what they were specifically referring to. People had his back; they would help him and watch out for him. Looking into his eyes I almost smiled, knowing that soon things would be a bit safer for the two of us, and maybe someday I wouldn’t have to worry about him not returning home.
The rest of the evening consisted of more talk, the older couples were snootier and hoity-toity but because of whom they were there for they chose to play it down. They were nice to me; complimenting my hair and eyes (I didn’t have a reason to wear my contacts here). They’d called me beautiful, him lucky, and a few times they asked what my occupation was. Al would tell them I was taking a break from my studies and the older women would smile and say, “I’ve been saying that for years.” They were all aware that they were kept women and they more than likely felt that I would follow the same path, something that I wanted to ensure didn’t happen. They asked if we had been hearing wedding bells in our future, if we had any children, and thankfully before we were forced to answer any of those questions they would pull out wallets stuffed with pictures of their children or grandchildren. I’d never been in this position before. It was like a family reunion and everyone was clamoring for a chance to see who the favorite son brought home. Needless to say when he pulled me off to go back to the room I was grateful, but I didn’t think I’d be getting much rest tonight.
April 7, 2002 Sunday 8:41 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Status: Great
Intertwined, one. Hands roamed over me, my breasts, my abdomen, and my thighs. Every stroke was painstakingly slow, slow enough to make me beg. My body trembled, my mouth ached, and I was drenched in sweat. Fatigue wouldn’t bring an end to our night; we had been deprived of such an opportunity for far too long, and we had no intention of allowing another disruption. It must have killed him not to come, something I knew because it was killing me to stay in this state of limbo. Would we soon, or would we not? There were only so many times I could handle being brought to my peak only to be let down.
Our grips on one another were so strong that we were crushing each other, all so that changing positions would be easier on us. Right now we were both on our sides, his stomach to my back, and I had my neck craned to look into his eyes. I was grinding my hips into his, his pace slow as he reentered me, a hand finding one of my breasts. I wiped a strand of hair from my forehead, wet with the sweat that resulted from our passion. His lips pressed against my cheek, his hand wandering down to my clitoris where his fingers massaged it, wringing a moan from me. To stop myself from getting any louder I turned my head around, inviting him for a kiss. Soon I found my hand wandering back to his hip, and I pulled at him to signal to enter me deeper. He moaned into our kiss, his tongue running over my bottom lip, but I did not wish to incite him so much that he lost his focus. Forehead to forehead our bodies worked together, a rhythm finally that we could both keep.
My neck was tired from the strain, so I laid my head down, and his hand took hold of mine. Finally, after what felt like forever he reached his climax, holding me as close to him as he could. By now I was ready to drift off to sleep, exhausted after morning sex, a plane ride that involved sex, the event, and now this. I believe I deserved some sleep and it was becoming extremely difficult for me to keep my eyes open to navigate my way to the bathroom. As I lie there I told myself I could afford to just rest my eyes for a moment.
Knock, knock!
I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of someone knocking on the door.
“Dr. Wesker!” someone called.
I heard felt his body pull away from mine as he turned his head to yell, “Not now!”
For a moment we heard nothing, until finally we heard the sound of retreating footsteps. Then he raised my hand, “What happened to your ring?”
This inquiry had somehow sent a jolt through my system, waking me up. My own gaze had gone to my hand, my ring finger bare. “I left it, and I’m sure Chris has found it by now.” Why did I say that? “I’m sorry. It’s awkward when I talk about him since you two hate and want to kill each other.”
“Initially,” he began, pausing as he began to rub his thumb over the top of my hand, “I never meant to harm Chris.”
“Al, he told me about the Spencer Estate incident.” My tone was reassuring, a fact that made me seem crazy since any sane person would never even put themselves in a position to be in bed with him.
“I never intended for him to fail. I even offered Chris a position. Though I don’t expect anyone to understand my reasoning it was only a matter of time before I had to have some sort conversation with you about it.”
Staring ahead at the side of the nightstand I took a deep breath, finally saying what I’d been thinking aloud for him to hear. “I try to separate that from what we have. He is my brother, and knowing my brother he was done with me the moment he realized that I said yes to you.” Just for a second I wanted to cry for the loss that I’d been denying since January 1, 2001. I’d taken up Al’s offer to help Chris, and I felt I could handle the situation because at the time he was human. I’d taken grown men on before and won so there was nothing for me to fear and so maybe Chris could’ve forgiven that with some time, but the day I gave Albert Wesker my virginity was the final nail in the coffin of our familial bond. The love that Chris and I had as siblings had been tainted somehow by me giving myself to the man that he hated the most. “I just want you to promise me something Al.” I gave pause before saying anything more. “Don’t kill Chris. Please don’t.” I still hadn’t looked into his eyes for fear that I might break down and shed a tear or two. Then he’d be left to wipe them away and possibly be guilted into a vow that he would forget in the field during that next battle between the two of them.
“I promise I won’t kill Chris,” he swore without hesitation. I didn’t need to look him in the eye now either because I knew that he meant what he said, especially to me. “It is imperative that we both stand on mutual ground.” He released my hand and rolled over, the sound of his nightstand being opened and closed causing me to furrow my brow. I felt his hand once more searching for my own, but rather than take it into his again I felt something cold slip around my ring finger.
When I looked down I saw a ring almost identical to the last one I had resting around my digit.
“For our sake we must both attempt to keep some things separate or control our impulses.”
Finally I turned around to look at him, the seriousness of his gaze burning more than the fiery rings of his eyes.
“Claire, is this what you want?”
No other word would dare pass my lips but, “Yes.” Once I’d realized that this was a proposal I wouldn’t shoot it down or have a second thought about my response. This was the moment that January 1, 2001 had been leading up to all along and I no longer saw the point in denying that. Neither of us knew it but neither of us probably saw it ending any other way. Every time we vowed to end it we just continued on, incapable of ceasing any manifestation of our emotions, slaves to the very things we knew were dangerous when it came to the lives we led.
“It will result in a public, record alert to law-enforcement agencies-”
“That won’t make much of a difference since I’m already wanted. This way if we’re caught they’ll definitely keep us together.” I knew this to be true because it was just a hunch that they wanted to experiment further with reproductive capabilities of the infected. Sick and twisted as their logic was it was a sure-fire way to ensure that we’d be kept close, and if we were captured then there’s no way they’d be able to keep him from getting me back. So before he could warn me anymore I kissed him, warming inside at the thought that this time I wore a ring from him it would be real and not some staged event. This time I’d wake up after making love to him and I could say that it meant something to have a diamond on my finger; I could smile knowing that it was most certainly love that led him to do the things that he did for and with me. When I pulled back I felt like I shouldn’t have even stopped, but it was probably better at this point that I did. “Maybe you’ll join me in that in-ground tub with the Jacuzzi jets,” I teased, sitting up to go to the bathroom.
He smirked back at me, “I’ll be in, in just a moment.”
April 7, 2002 Sunday 9:06 PM
Subject: Wesker, Albert
Location: Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Status: Fine
Once I heard the water running in the bathroom I rolled over to pick up my phone, punching in Krauser’s number. The phone only rang twice before he answered, probably waiting for my call as he had nothing else to do since I’d left. His loyalty was not the kind that could be bought either, but rather, it was earned through my hard work and a little help from Alexia Ashford’s leftovers.
“Yes sir?” The enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable and frankly what I liked to hear from him.
Sitting up, I checked to make sure Claire had closed the bathroom door, and with the water running I felt that there was enough noise to ensure that she wouldn’t hear anything. “Go into my office,” I instructed, “There are documents in the top drawer of my desk. Make sure that my signature is at the bottom and that it is addressed to Seaborne.” As I told him what to do I heard him moving through the house and soon after I could make out the sound of a lock turning over. After about a minute I added, “I am sure that you have skimmed through the document by now, so I am certain that I do not have to stress the importance of you delivering the papers to Seaborne directly.”
“Yes sir.”
Without further orders I ended the call, more worried about the fact that I had not factored this into my plans. This would make Claire happy, give her some purpose in this whole thing, yet for some reason I couldn’t think about what it meant for me. My personality, my actions, they would all have to be either limited or altered ever-so-slightly to become appropriate for yet another role I’d take on. In no way would it be feasible for me to expect to make this happen for her and continue on as I had before. No, I would have to stay behind the scenes in many of my other plans, allow someone else to do the dirty work for me if this would work out for the better with me still being allowed to walk through my own home without fear of an icy wife. Before I could mull over it any further I heard someone knock on the door again, and because this was the second time I figured it’d be best that I answer. Though it was out of character for me to answer a door in such a state I merely stepped into a pair of boxers and opened the door to what appeared to be Mr. M’s security.
Nervously, the man sputtered, “Dr. Wesker there’s a potential threat in a new organization called the BSAA.”
“Potential?” I asked.
“It’s the founder sir!”
My mouth was now set in a straight line as I attempted to keep from raising my voice; I had no intention of alerting Claire to any potential threat when her mood was so elevated. “Spit it out.”
“It’s Chris Redfield. He’s in the country, possibly to zero in your location.”
A single chuckle escaped me. “Take no action. We’ll be leaving in the morning. Tell Mr. M. to call Charlie. Get him a flight to Rome.” With that I shut the door in his face; sure he’d remember everything I said since his job was not the only thing that depended on it.
April 8, 2002 Monday 12:18 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Rome, Italy
Status: Confused
Italian was a lovely language, one that I was seemingly hearing more often as of late. What was just so frustrating to me at the moment though was that I couldn’t understand it and that I was hearing it thrown back and forth quickly between three women this early. Okay so it wasn’t that early, but it might as well have been since I’d been woken up at five and commanded to get ready to head for Rome. What was even weirder was that I was in an empty hotel that I assumed had been cleared out for our stay. The three women continued to bicker back and forth as they argued over duffle bags, tossing them back and forth, possibly trying to figure out whose was whose.
“I suoi capelli è bello!” one of them sang, tugging my ponytail holder from my hair a bit roughly.
One of the other women yelled at her in a smart tone before turning to look me in the eyes. “Parli Italiano signora?”
Who didn’t know what hablo and parli meant in this day and age? “Um, no.” Shyly, I shrugged at them, thinking they’d simply resume their little argument, but instead they all giggled at me.
“We are sorry signora; sometimes my two friends just forget their manners. I am Paola.” Paola was a tall, slim brunette with hazel eyes. She was quite pretty, as were the others, but it was obvious that she was just a bit older than them. However, Paola also looked as though she possibly modeled in her day.
“I am Adriana,” the shorter brunette announced with a smile so big that her brown eyes almost shut.
“And I am Catarina.” Catarina was a few inches shorter than Paola, her straight, blonde hair falling to her waist in soft, fine strands.
“I’m Claire.” I was still very much confused about what was transpiring. Why was I in a hotel room in a cleared out hotel while three women argued as I sat in a chair wearing a white robe? The sight of Adriana pulling a curling iron from her bag made my head hurt as I looked for reasons this could be happening.
“Aren’t you excited?” Adriana plugged the wand into an outlet and set it on the table in front of me.
Catarina mumbled to herself as she pulled out a box and unfolded it, revealing different hues of eye shadow and blush. “Do you not know?” she asked, surprised.
While I swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, Paola wasted no time in declaring, “It is your wedding day!”
Oh boy.
April 8, 2002 Monday 3:00 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: Rome, Italy
Status: Nervous
My heart was pounding so hard that I felt it beating against my ribcage, like it was trying to escape, or worse: explode. No matter how many lumps I swallowed down it seemed one more just came to replace the last, making my efforts futile. I agreed to this, I wanted this, but it just seemed so soon. I didn’t expect a year to prepare amongst girlfriends and wedding planners, nor did I hope to book the Sistine Chapel. I just didn’t expect it so soon… My face of makeup hid my apprehension well, allowing the mirror to see me as blushing bride with dark red lips and spider-leg lashes. My veil was clipped into the bun at the top of my head, black, loose curls dangling here and there, and I noticed that for the first time in my life I actually had a perfect side-part. Diamond studs were set into my ears, shining brightly in the mirror, their size perfect so I wouldn’t looked as if I were showing off. Not like there was anyone to show this off to. My dress was laced up in the back, secured by my little helpers that disappeared as soon as I was ready, commenting on how beautiful I looked and lamenting over the agreement of no pictures for their portfolios. Snow white, the dress was made of organza, the top was a corset style with a sweetheart neckline, and just above my hip it flowed out in ruffles that reached the floor. My engagement ring that only lasted a night was now on the other hand, purely ornamental at this point. Still afraid to ruin my perfectly manicured nails and their French tips I daintily lifted up the gown to spin around a bit.
Behind me Mr. M. stood proudly, and he came forward to spread the veil out over my shoulders. I hadn’t expected him to be there, and I didn’t know him too well, but I knew that he seemed to care about Al an awful lot. So if he wanted to be here for this day then so be it.
Jack came out of the restroom fixing his cufflinks, muttering expletives under his breath. Once he looked up and saw me he looked shocked, more than likely because he had no idea I could look so elegant. “Wow.”
Turning to face him I asked, “Did you know about any of this?”
“If I had do you think I would’ve actually picked out cufflinks? It was weird that a few days ago he had me sending in requests to some old contacts about legal paperwork.”
With a smile I walked over to him to straighten his tie. “Thank you… for giving me away,” I said with genuine appreciation. There was no one else who could or would other than Mr. M., but he would be holding the rings.
“Well I’ll still be there all the time so technically…” he trailed off, grinning at his own statement. He knew that all my life I’d probably imagined Chris giving me away if a wedding were to ever take place, but that wouldn’t be happening in this world. A part of me wanted to think that my father would have said yes, flown out without knowing about Al and what he’d done just to be able to walk his little girl down the aisle. I couldn’t think of that though because Catarina’s work would’ve been for nothing and today I was only allowed to cry when he vowed to love me forever and maybe after we kissed. I couldn’t think of how my father would’ve said, “Claire I wish we would have known about this man, but if he makes you happy then of course I’m here.” I couldn’t think of my mother crying tears of joy as she snapped photographs that Al would allow at my request, and I didn’t want to think of them asking where Chris was.
Before anymore of those thoughts painted themselves as a picture to play in my mind, producing visuals to bring me to tears I embraced Jack for the first time ever. “You’re the best sometime-bodyguard a girl could have,” I cried dramatically, seeing Mr. M. smile before nodding and leaving the room to join Al downstairs. I expected Jack to call me out on my theatrics, hoping he would bring his usual humor in to lighten the mood.
“And you’re not a pain in the ass all the time,” he confessed, returning the embrace. When he released me looked down at me, a small smile on his face, “Let’s get you guys hitched. And by the way, you’re gonna love your wedding gift.”
Carefully we made our way down to the event hall, and I stood nervously outside the doors with my white bouquet clutched closely. I was sure I had only been standing there for a minute, yet it felt like an eternity of fidgeting and adjusting my cleavage. One of the doors opened slowly, Ada’s head peeking out at me, and I beamed at her as she gestured for us to step inside. We walked inside, watching Ada take a seat at one of the many round tables next to a blonde man with a scruffy beard and a sly grin. She ignored him as he brought an arm around the back of her chair, both of them looking straight ahead. Dark walls gave me a sense of focus in this room, keeping me from noticing how empty it was in here, and sadly it kept me from noticing Al standing with his back turned while he conversed with a man in front of the stage, Mr. M. silently looking on. Thank God for that. As dimly lit as it was in here, I could see him perfectly, his blond hair perfect as always, his back impeccably straight, and his tailored suit fitting him perfectly.
The man he was speaking with pointed to me, but my ever-cool Al did not jump around to see me. From somewhere in the room I heard music begin, a song that didn’t have to try to sound romantic to get the point across. Once again though, I was unable to understand the words. It pretty much described this whole thing. There was no understanding this, and you either accepted it or you moved around. As I’d said before, this was our world.
Jack held out his arm for me to take, and we began walking down the aisle at a slow pace as Ada and the stranger looked on almost happily. Halfway down I saw Al turning to face me with an expression that almost bordered on joyous, but it wouldn’t have been him if he were smiling goofily. The smile was so small that I was only able to notice it because I knew him, and I knew that right now he was indeed happy. Because of our company he was unable to go without his shades, something that I could understand and deal with. Before I knew it though I was already there, Jack was releasing my arm so that I could stand in front of my groom, ready to take my vows in front of witnesses.
The officiant cleared his throat to signal that it was time for the music to be stopped, and it promptly ended. Not once could I pry my eyes away from Al; this was a moment you couldn’t look away from, you couldn’t even blink. “I thank you all for gathering here to bear witness to the union of Albert Wesker and Claire Redfield. Does anyone here know any reason that would prevent them from joining together in a legal union?” No one spoke. “Marriage is a sacred union that is cherished by those who enter it. Your love is to act as a testament to that union, and your dedication and faithfulness to one another will assist both of you through your hardest times and exalt you in your happiest moments throughout your lives.”
I heard nothing, only saw him, and I think he felt the same. I’d already said yes. Yes to this life, yes to being at his side, and yes to loving him forever. The officiant’s words were nothing but worthless blabber at this point and all we needed was to sign the certificate that would legalize our union. He asked we would love each other forever and we said yes. He asked if we would assist each other in times of need and we said yes. He asked if we took each other and husband and wife and we said yes. As we exchanged our rings we never looked down.
“I introduce to you as Mr. and Mrs. Wesker; you may now kiss the bride.”
For the first time during the ceremony we paused in our responses. Al’s hand now rested on his shades as he stood there stiff as a statue, and for a moment I prayed that he didn’t adjust them. In his first act as my husband he removed his shades, tucking them into his vest, and I leaned in to him so that he could kiss me and signal what would be the start of a new forever.
April 13, 2002 Saturday 1:15 PM
Subject: Redfield, Claire
Location: ???
Status: Fine
I didn’t know where we were and truthfully I didn’t care. The only thing I knew was that here was where we consummated our marriage after two days of abstaining during our stay in Italy. He’d taken me out in public, shown me the ruins of Rome without the aid of a tour guide, and he held me those two nights as we lie in bed waiting to fall asleep. Sure we’d kissed, we wanted to make things official but we also wanted to do it someplace that was our own and not a hotel room. He told me about the BSAA and about Chris searching for him, and once we set down on this island none of that mattered to me. Here we were safe to be Mr. and Mrs. Albert Wesker. I stared at the simple, platinum band that was identical to his own, glinting into the sunlight as I lie in bed naked.
“Where’s my wedding gift?” My tone was joking as I looked up to him. He stood over me, fastening his belt that I kept playfully tugging at.
He buttoned up his shirt, a knock catching both of our attention. “That should be it,” he said, heading for the door. Jack’s hand slipped through the small opening, passing a manila folder to Al. His bright eyes looked over whatever was inside before he came to sit next to me on the bed, his back hiding the folder’s contents from my view.
With a sigh I sat up to peek over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. “Is that a sonogram?” I stared down the picture, somehow making out a head in all of the blackness.
“It’s still early, however the fetus is developing rapidly. In a few more months it will come to term, that is, if there are no abnormalities.”
“You’re giving me a baby,” I breathed, lowering myself onto my knees. This was a lot to take in at the moment, yet this is what had wanted when I was baby-crazy. This would give me something to do when he was working, something to care for, some responsibility other than keeping my mouth shut.
Turning to look at me he asked, “Do you still want this?”
Rather than answer I threw myself onto him, hugging him as tightly as I could. “I want this,” I stated calmly, meaning it with every fiber of my being. Yes, I wanted this.
“I have to take a call, I’ll be back shortly.” His lips brushed against my forehead as he stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, leaving me to contemplate how the universe let us slip through its karmic forces for this long. As I headed for the bathroom I knew that something had to happen soon, and whatever it was, was going to be unwanted or at the least a slight disturbance. I turned on the shower head, waiting for the water to heat up; there was nothing I hated more than a cold shower. After a minute of waiting I stepped inside, pleasantly surprised to find that it was the right temperature. I shut the shower door slowly, aware that the sound of it shutting was loud enough for someone to hear from downstairs. Steam rose slowly, dampening the air around me. I stepped directly under the stream to wet my hair, relishing the feel of the heat massaging my scalp. I hadn’t sung in a very long time, not seriously at least. I’d had no reason to belt out any ballads about love or happiness in years, but today I felt what I’d been missing for so long. Not to toot my own horn but I was quite the songstress, kicking ass at karaoke in my favorite bars.
Humming to myself I shut my eyes, trying to hear the music and the voice of the original artist playing in my mind. The song was a challenge to me in the past, forcing me to repeat lines, to push my voice to get higher while maintaining my ability to sing other parts as an alto. It was one of my favorites, mainly because I never knew what it was about exactly or who she was singing about. I just knew that whoever it was couldn’t be replaced in her life, and somehow that short message was stretched out because of the pacing and pauses. The lyrics were now playing in my head as I worked up the nerve to attempt to mimic the original singer’s notes.
Circles, with no end, the ink that stains my skin. Secrets of where you’ve been, is the only thing that I keep.
No match, no match, no match, for your fingerprint. No substitute, no other you. No match, no match, no match, for your fingerprint. No substitute, no other you.
Bursting for one sip, of the innocence we once had. Shadows of the past, and the tattooed lines, of your kiss.
No match, no match no match, for your fingerprint. No substitute, no other you. Cause there can only be one. There can only be one.
Circes, with no end. The ink that stains my skin.
No match, no match, no match, for your fingerprint. No substitute. No other you. Cause there can only be, one. There can only be one. There can only be one. There can only be one.
As I finished it I felt a sense of accomplishment. I felt I had done pretty well considering the lack of exercise my chords had been getting lately, and I laughed at the fact that I could do this whenever I wanted now without fear of neighbors complaining to the super. As I opened my eyes I noticed a dark form through the shower door, and I grinned to myself. “Okay, I know I’m rusty but for a Leona attempt that was-” The door rolled back, a rush of cold air hitting my naked form, and before I looked up I already knew it couldn’t have been Al. “Chris?” In army fatigues, a gun strapped to his side, my brother stood in front of me speechless, no discernible expression on his face. There was no indication that he would hug me or apologize for his intrusion, but I had a feeling that he would complete neither action. “Chris?” I echoed, covering my breasts out of embarrassment over my brother staring me down while in the shower.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked loudly, but he wasn’t yelling. Not yet. “You’re singing?” he seethed, taking a step closer without regard for the stream between us.
In response to his movement I stepped back into the corner, ignoring the cold, slick tile pressing into my skin. Somehow he hadn’t seen my rings that I’d vowed to never remove again, and to keep it that way I tucked my hands under my arms subtly.
“Do you love him?” His face had become wild, his stubble protruding noticeably, and I realized that I hadn’t seen Chris this disheveled since he had gotten drunk a few years ago on the anniversary of our parents’ death.
“Chris,” I said once more, my voice shaking and almost pleading.
“Are. You. In. Love. With. Him?”
“Chris, please!” My cry for mercy from his wrath only incited him more.
He rushed into the shower, grabbing my arms and tearing them away from my body. I could feel my skin bruising from his crushing grip. His teeth were bared as he stared down at me with eyes red from a lack of sleep, and he’d lost any sense of reason the second he heard me singing. “Tell me you don’t love him Claire!” Shaking my body violently he caused me to hit my head against the tile, but he wouldn’t let up as his demand became a plea. “Please Claire tell me you don’t love him!”
“Chris you’re hurting me!” I shouted. My voice was breaking with fear and sadness as I felt my eyes burning from the presence of tears.
“Please Claire, please! Just say it.”
“Chris, stop!” I wailed, feeling the exact, same spot of my head being knocked into the tile over and over again.
“Please, please, please!” Suddenly he stopped shaking me but his crushing grip remained as strong as ever. “Are you pregnant again?”
I didn’t answer as I was more focused on what the back of my skull looked like from his assault. One part of me asked where Al was while the other hoped he didn’t come in to see this because I wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his promise and stop himself from slaughtering my brother before my very eyes. When I felt my brother release one of my arms I thought maybe he was done, that maybe he realized he was hurting me, and now I could negotiate with him. “Can we just-” A clicking noise interrupted my train of thought, and as I looked down I saw a jagged, pocket knife clutched in one of Chris’ large hands. My eyes shot back up to his to catch the desperation that now possessed him and left him in a haze of hatred and despair. “Chris,” I whispered. I’d lost count of how many times I said his name, but in this moment I couldn’t imagine anything would help me.
Nodding quickly, water being shook from his head he assured me, “It’s okay, I’ll cut it out.”
Rather than scream his name I simply screamed, my voice piercing through the thick air of the bathroom and hopefully reaching downstairs. Where was Al, where was Jack? I didn’t care what they did to get Chris off of me at this point; I just wanted him off! “God please stop!”
“Calm down Claire! I’ll get it out!” As we struggled in the corner I felt his steel-toe boot bang into my shin while another stomped on my foot. His free hand worked to hold me still but our bare skin was slippery. “Hold still Claire it’ll only hurt for a second!”
He’s crazy!
He lowered the knife in hope that I would stop wriggling against him but I did not cease my resistance. I kicked wildly at his legs, pushing at his arm that was struggling to subdue me, and then I felt it. The pain was so sharp that I stopped crying for him to stop, I stopped struggling against his hold, and he soon noticed.
Impossibly, his eyes grew wider as they fell to my abdomen and his mouth hung open.
Almost fainting from the pain I remembered where the real danger lie and my eyes followed his down to the gushing wound. The running water, his curses and apologies, all of those things became background noise as I watched the drips of water wash away the blood until finally there was none.
He released me, slipping a bit as he stumbled backwards while I sank into the corner. His mouth opened to say something, but before he could get anything out he fell to the floor unconscious.
My world began to swirl and spin around me, everything fell completely silent, and my vision blurred. A black figure came over to pull me up from the shower floor, draping an oversized button-up over my shoulders. I could hear someone speaking but I couldn’t make out what they were saying to me and they seemed to notice. They continued to speak, buttoning up the shirt quickly. A pair of hands grabbed hold of my shoulders and I could barely feel it.
“Claire!”
That was Al. Al was here for me.
“We have to go!” he barked.
When I didn’t respond I could feel my body floating through the air, the rooms blurring by me. I heard what sounded like Jack and a helicopter’s rotors but then I could only see blackness stretching out for what looked like forever…
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