#v; biohazard reimagined (secondary timeline)

[legaciestold]

@everythingheard (leon) government medical facility may 27th, 2024

horrific images play across her her mind, eyes scrunched together and horrifically blonde hair in her face in a dimly lit room that lacked any form of significant color sans the items peeking out of a duffle bag on the chair in the corner that chris had brought her. she's spared the hospital gown, instead allowed to wear a loose fitted dso sweatshirt and sweatpants both because it made it easier for the wireless monitors attached to her and because her body felt weak the longer she was without the doses of virus the devise she'd been attached to had given her. a sheen of cold sweat finds her brow, her skin clammy and still paled more than it should be. a cell phone playing soft melodies from some parisian band that she'd put on earlier lingers near her legs on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest because she's just awoken by some loud crash of a sound outside the room she's subjected to and her mind had scattered into a million directions of it's own volition. she'd found herself sitting on the cool floor as if the sensation of it was some means of grounding force, the cold reminding her where she was, that it was real. she had control of her actions again yet her mind felt distant in a way that'd made her want to punch a wall.

frustration ebbs through her. anger too. and so many things in-between. this isn't her. so unfocused and skittish. even when the memories of those bloody handprints in that school plagued her she'd found a way to ground herself. some nights that meant she held onto chris as they were lulled to sleep by a storm and sometimes it was her talking her mind into compartmentalization. yet now everything felt disconnected and just out of reach. fear rushed through her in those moments of waking from sleep when she believed she was a moment away from living a nightmare she could only watch her body enact. then she remembers, wesker was dead. chris had made sure of that in the same way he'd fought to find her for a year and refused to believe her dead. he'd been there every step of the way in the last few days and she's pretty sure he'd nearly decked one of the scientists when they'd try to stop him from being in the room with her. they hadn't stopped him from bringing her things or giving her her phone after that either and jill feels like she'd have paid to see what wrath of god he'd worn upon his face to gain such easy compliance from them.

but chris isn't there now, even though he's rarely left her side since they landed and she'd been forced into immediate testing. she understands why. she does, even if the tests make her skin crawl. there's no way to know the effects of what lingers in her body or if the lack of the virus would make her body shut down without it (she was weak but she wasn't dead so that was a good sign at least). there'd been such a fine line between death and life when wesker had pulled her from the water and jill knows, even if she hates it with a kind of rage she's never felt before that his actions were all that had allowed life to flow back into her for her to be here now. even if jill in the here and now felt hardly like herself. fingers reach out and tap the phone screen, looking at the clock. chris should be there now, she thinks and considers the timing of everything was rather coincidental. the reduced sentence her father was commuted to that she'd secured in her deal years earlier had another two years on it and a part of her had wondered who pulled strings to have dick valentine released even earlier. she'd considered, maybe, somehow, leon had managed it until one of the medical staff had given her a card with a cryptic few sentences. trent. she'd ever quite been able to get a read on him and now she only had more questions than answers but she supposed he had his own reasons for it.

either way, she'd see her father soon enough. chris was making sure of that by traveling up to new york to pick him up. she'd half expected him to give her more of a fight about leaving her than he had, not that he hadn't given her some but she supposes chris was perhaps one of two people who understood what not having her father in her life was like for her and what impact perhaps seeing him now could have on her. there was a lot of things about the way she'd been brought up that jill had come to understand weren't how they should been, but she loved her father and him encouraging her onto the path she'd found had led her to chris. seeing her dad now was something that gave her a kind of hope that was difficult to keep a grasp of in these moments she battled her mind. a sound at the door brings her attention toward it, body alert and if she'd had more strength in her she'd have managed to get to her feet but the moment she attempts it she gets dizzy. the end result is a firm grip on her phone that she could at least throw at someone before she remembers there aren't enemies afoot in the hallways of this facility a moment later. it's a moot point when her eyes hone in on his haircut and then moves to focus on leon's face. she should have known, really. and maybe this makes her love chris even more. because if he couldn't be here until tomorrow, she's confident he's the one who called leon even if she has no doubt he'd have infiltrated the building soon enough either way.

"you have to pay the toll to come in." she states, a memory from long ago of two kids chasing away a darker memory that's lingered in her mind. "so you better have something out of your mom's old recipe book inside that bag you're holding." jill speaks with a released breath that maybe she's been holding too long. there's something about this moment, as strange as it is with her sitting on the floor and him standing there that finally makes her feel a bit more like herself even if she hates the fact he's seeing her in such a state. but in some ways, maybe leon knew her in ways even chris hadn't or just knew her differently because they'd been kids throwing flour at each other when his mother attempted to teach them to bake and she'd seen him after his parents died and he'd seen her when her father had been sentenced. she supposed, even if they weren't connected by blood like claire and chris were, her and leon had the same kind of connection. she realizes it more now maybe for the first time in a real and weighted way, in the suddenness of the moment, having realized how much she missed him.

"don't just stand there like you're waiting for your number to be called at bingo, help me up." still, jill hates that she needs to ask for help even in something so simple. hates that she can't quite do it herself. but nothing can be done about it but move forward.

[legaciestold]

when leon's voice emits through the headpiece, ingrid hunnigan allows a brief incredulous sigh to escape her lips, overwritten quickly by the clattering of keys being typed against on her work space at the dso. rapid eye movement meets dual screens, analyzing blueprints and accessing local databases on the ground at his location for authorial communications about the growing blaze. the scattered reports were being filtered through a program she's opened on half the screen on the left, voice-to-text presented for her to skim as her focus splits between the screens. still, she allows a single comment to emit to the man on the comms as she presses a button on the keyboard and disconnects a tablet, beginning to move from her office into the main area of the division's intelligence center.

"i doubt it'll be as hot as the water you'll be in when ms. redfield finds out you jumped into an op with no backup." then again, even if claire redfield wasn't an agent of the dso-- just certified if needed as benford had requested-- ingrid could see the woman getting into this very same situation. for all the differences between leon and claire that ingrid has observed, they both seemed to have a knack for these things. a beat passes. "stand by."

perhaps it wasn't as much of an op as it was meeting a contact which could lead to an op. however, that was semantics and leon going into a meeting with any number of unknowns in play was an unnecessary risk. did she think he was playing cowboy like some other dso agents? not exactly. leon was young but he wasn't stupid and he held a hell of a lot more practical experience than some other agents older than him that were recruited out of other agencies, so, she was sure there'd been a reason be it a situation time had been of the essence or something else. but, that hadn't meant he shouldn't have found a way to at least contact her on his way if not anyone else. when it mattered she'd have foregone official channels if this wasn't something official yet if need be because unlike some others, she could get away with it.

(sometimes ingrid wondered if that was secretly a factor she ended up leon's main facilitator because it allowed a backdoor to some of the red tape others would usually have to go through.)

irregardless, had he, ingrid would have been more prepared for any eventuality that should have arose. in the least, she'd have already had the blueprints ready and the agents at the cubicles in the center on standby to aid her instead of the current delay that found a fire spreading through a hotel and leon at the heart of it.

none of that matters now though. all that matters is she finds a route for leon.

finger hovers over the tablet screen before swiping the images off the edge and toward a larger screen on the side of the room. multiple sets of eyes drift from their own screens and divert toward the main one that was really a grid of screens able to be converted into one followed by the muffled commands of hunnigan as she begins to direct a few agents toward tasks quickly. one of them is on ground communications. one of them is on the traffic grid for once leon gets out, contact in hand or not-- if whoever had caused the explosion was gunning for either leon or the contact, she was sure as hell going to make sure there was a secure transport away from the site. she directs another agent to pull up the maintenance records for the day at the hotel since she's already hacked the system at her desk and provided them all access. ingrid is efficient, all of this transpiring in the sixty or so seconds it takes her to cross the space.

"hope you're not scared of heights leon." the comment emits with a serious tone that has the tiniest hint of amusement. not that it's the time for amusement but there was something to be said for the fact that of all the agents to get themselves into a mess like this it was leon. somehow it just figured something was going to get broken. "if you're next to the stairwell, you need move eleven rooms back down the corridor to the east side of the building." she's not sure what visibility is so she doesn't bother to say a room number, just how many door frames he'll have to pass. "get there now."

she's cross referenced the maintenance records with emergency reports. this would be the quickest way, even if it meant he'd have to perhaps break a window or two and.. jump out of it (only a floor).

"workers were replacing the window a level below, it appears they were the first to call to dispatch about the fire. they reentered the building through that window since that type of scaffolding is rigged from the top not the bottom. it should still be out there. you can go up, you won't be able to take it down. i also don't know how long it'll remain secured if the fire gets any worse and more windows blow. so be quick. i don't imagine you'll have too much trouble getting through a window or the door. i'll have escape routes in tow forthwith."

@legaciestold said: "are you contacting me from the middle of a burning building?" ingrid questions through the comms, the sound of an explosion in the background causing a crease to her brow. "what's the sitrep?" she's already pulling up on a second screen the blueprints on public record for the building his gps tracker in his comms is indicating. (from hunnigan for leon in tl1 or tl2)

"Word is that it's the hottest spot in town."

Despite the flippancy of his tone, a surge of relief shoots through Leon at the familiar sound of Hunnigan's voice in his ear ( particularly as what sounds akin to an explosion rocks the building from a floor higher up ). The ensuing heat is bad, yet he's certainly experienced worse; for now, at least.

Can't believe I thought this was gonna be an easy assignment. Figures.

As a few more people run through the halls towards a nearby stairwell, shoving past him as they go, he forces his attention back to his earpiece. "I'm at the Row NYC Hotel. I'm supposed to be meeting a contact here, but — I'm guessing the fact that it's on fire might not be a coincidence." Not that the ' who ' or ' why ' matters right this second, considering, though Leon's mind can't help but briefly parse through the possibilities before he continues, "I need to get to the twenty-eighth floor, and right now I'm on the tenth. The nearest stairs only go down, and I'm gonna pass on the elevator."

Room 1300. Isn't thirteen supposed to be an unlucky number? Great.

That's when he feels a cough rise in his throat. He has to find his contact and get them out of here before it's too late — for them and all of the information they've promised. "Work your magic and tell me where to go."

[legaciestold]

@everythingheard (leon) october 28th, 2024evening, white house

there had been no time after the military transport had landed at the air force base to go home and freshen up. benford wasn't a man who liked to be kept waiting and based on her last communication with him claire redfield had gotten the feeling tensions were higher than usual in whatever meeting the national security advisor and deo director had come out of. idly, she'd wondered, while turbulence had washed over the flight and her hands had gripped the straps, if benford's mood had to do with how close the election was or the growing tensions between him and secretary wilson's stands on foreign policy or even if something had gone screwy with leon's mission in philadelphia with the incident that happened there.

she knew leon was fine, relatively speaking.

call this one of the very few things she was superstitious about but claire knew she'd know if he wasn't. that didn't mean she didn't worry, no matter how capable she knew him to be. it was the life they'd signed up for, or rather, been forced to sign up for yet five years on she thinks maybe they'd accepted their place in it. they both disliked simmons but he wasn't the one in power-- at least not to the same level benford and graham were at the moment, and for politicians, claire did trust them more than she ever thought she would. maybe in a world where she'd be more on the outside of things that wouldn't be the case but in her position working for benford she was aware of a lot more than the average person. there was plenty of red tape even for such powerful people but they wanted to affect change and she wanted to help them, so did everyone she cared about since most of them were in the dso in some capacity. in any case, this finds claire still in the green pants and jacket the aid convoy had worn in penamstan when she goes through the security entrance and finds herself in benford's office, a file tucked protectively inside her jacket.

they discuss what she's learned on the ground, her meeting with a dso informant in some labyrinth of dangerous streets she'd navigated that maybe she'll leave out of telling leon about especially because when she'd gone back for a second meeting she'd found him dead and gotten the hell out of dodge and back to the aid site having had to manage some kind of macgyvered disguise on the way in case his home was being watched. claire had training, more training than she'd had in raccoon city, even if she wasn't in the field regularly. that had been something benford had ensured for her after spain and before she'd come to work for him. he wanted her to go through the dso training program even if she wasn't going to be an agent. it meant, he could send her on covert assignments like this when he wasn't sure who to trust, her position as his assistant giving her the cover needed to establish an official reason for her to be in places. she shows him the picture the boy she'd encountered had draw too. the images only confirming what the informant had told her and the rumors had indicated. there'd been an outbreak in penamstan. an outbreak that was hauntingly like raccoon city which meant the t-virus. it meant there was a hell of a lot more at play than was previously believed.

benford's about to tell her about something else, leon's name just on the tip of his tongue when the power cuts out and brows crease. anywhere else maybe there could be a reason for it but it's the white house. there's immediate sounds of running outside and she knows the process has started to protect the president. the timing seems odd yet there's little time to ponder such too much. benford turns in his chair and punches a code into the safe on the floor behind him, takes out two weapons and ammo, handing half to her and in that moment with how quickly, calmly, and composed benford is, claire can see a glimpse into the cia he once was. she's only just gotten her hand on the weapon when someone falls through the door, hiting the ground with a loud thud and then raising their head again and moving across the floor toward her. no. no, no no. her heart rate picks up and she aims the gun at his head, firing immediately with the echo of memories resurfacing in her mind and transposing with what she's seeing.

it was happening again. there were zombies in the white house.

it's a bit of a blur of activity over the next bit of time, her and benford moving through halls and encountering secret service agents and workers along the way. some are zombies, some aren't. some are bitten and haven't fully grasped what that means for them in their last few minutes of life. that last one had been where claire and benford had temporarily parted ways, him telling her to continue down the corridor as he aided the bitten worker another around corner. she doesn't look back when she hears the shot but understands the last few moments had played out she hadn't had to be the one.

it's moments later, she turns a corner to a corridor, a flashlight blinding her for a moment before her eyes refocus to see a blob of darkness with a weapon and then dart over his shoulder to a zombie that's just come out of the open door a few feet behind him. if the blob was capable, he'd likely have realized soon enough and gotten a shot in without her help but there's no times for 'what ifs' so she tells him to 'duck' shooting it directly in the head. once the zombie drops to the floor in a pool of blood, claire's blue eyes find the blue hues of her boyfriend and she lets out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. despite the horror of the situation, a small playful smirk crosses her features as her voice emits. "i love you but we really gotta stop meeting like this."

[legaciestold]

“I brought you some water.” (from leon for claire!)

early march 2020 noticing trauma meme@everythingheard (leon)

sometimes claire feels like she's in the twilight zone. there's elements of her life that feel so mundane again that a part of her wants to chase the feeling just to exist within it as if, with it, a sense of childish pretending can commence. as if she's always been this girl rushing to her next college course because she'd miscalculated the line at the coffee shop and not a girl who only a few months before had been in a hell on earth where the undead hunted her and she had to fight for her life. it's jarring, the normalcy of it all after being on alert for so long; as if there's a kind of disconnect between the moments that make up her day.

she laughs with her classmates as they talk amount a movie while waiting for their professor.

she startles at the sound of the door banging against the wall because the professor was carrying a bunch of items and used his foot a bit too forcefully to shove the door open.

(because a part of her knows, there is still a risk to her out there.)

claire never much cared about politics before she switched her major either, yet now she was starting to pay attention to things within the complexities of it and how it could be used to shape and change society. she was happy to be back in school even if her major was different now but was ever aware that it also brought her one step closer to fulfilling a deal that she still wasn't quite sure what would look like. (she could make a difference with it though. maybe she could be a small part of something that could stop history from repeating and that mattered even if it'd come about because of a deal she still held unease about.) but, she also knew her deal looked a lot better than leon's. she was allowed some semblance of normalcy while he wasn't. not right now at least, unless you counted them as a sliver of normal (maybe they were, in a way, some piece of life and hope that wasn't ripped from them). it wasn't fair, the paths they were being placed on but at least.. at least they were trying to make the most of it.. together. that mattered too.

but that was the other thing: leon.

they'd gone about things so backwards, really. risked their lives for each other before they knew one another, lived together before they had feelings for each other, slept in the same bed before they'd even kissed... and now he was off enduring training that was beating him down to build him back up while she was going to school and expected to be normal and missing him like she imagined those wives that lined up on base as their husbands went off to deployment must have always felt when they returned home after to an empty bed. her nineteen-year-old (going on twenty) life wasn't anything like she imagined it'd be anymore than leon was the kind of guy she'd thought herself falling for when she'd briefly dated in high school (not that that really counted when nothing had ever gotten passed making out at the movies and breaking up two weeks later). but it was how things had played out and claire couldn't really imagine her life without leon in it and a part of her was still trying to sort out how she felt about that.

she'd never felt so strongly about someone before.

maybe it was some weird combination of her first real experience with a significant relationship even if they hadn't really been on any actual official date yet and the fact that in over three months she'd spent more time with him than she thinks she'd ever had with another person outside of chris. claire worried earlier on that maybe it was a kind of co-dependence brought on by trauma and maybe a part of it was but at some point it'd become something else, something more. they knew each other in a way she wasn't sure other people knew them. they'd shared things they never shared with anyone else. they felt safe together in a world that no longer felt safe.

perhaps that's why, the moment temporary housing had been set up for her so she could start classes at the new school on time until something else was sorted since apparently the dorms weren't deemed secure enough, she'd given leon the key to it when she'd went to see him the one time they'd actually let her go see him during training thus far. it wasn't like they did anything in order and it wasn't as if they were moving in together (besides who knew how long his training would take) but there was a comfort in the acceptance of the access. that if for some reason he decided to show up at three in the morning unannounced, she trusted him and was okay with that. it meant, there was a kind of home they'd found in each other and frankly, it wasn't as if he actually had his own apartment yet (or that she did, this was temporary). he'd gone right to training in the aftermath of their capture, or well, a week or so later. it meant 'as long as we stick together, we'll be fine'; that even if they weren't going to see each other everyday like they had up until she'd been captured by umbrella, that it wasn't going to be goodbye or a disconnect. we're in this together. that's what it felt like and claire hoped he took comfort in that as much as she did.

that comfort doesn't make her restlessness any better though, once she's back 'home' after classes and finished her homework and is sitting on the couch with the news playing in the background and her cup of soda clattering to the floor because the news is talking about raccoon again but they are talking about umbrella too this time and the government and there's been a data leak and she's not sure she's heard much after that but the few images they do show after a viewer caution are seared in her mind both from memory and from seeing it again. she certainly doesn't remember falling asleep or passing out on the couch at some point (an hour? hours? minutes?) later though there's evidence that her staying on the couch at night is more normal than it should be. she doesn't sleep in the bed in the bedroom because it's too far from the door if someone breaks in and she wouldn't hear them until it was too late and despite her being fully capable of defending herself, leon used to sleep on the side closest to the door in those shitty motels just in case someone tried to get at them or sherry. and the bed feels too cold in a way.. her nightmares that still plague her finding her. they find her on the couch too but it's different, the couch doesn't feel like something's missing from the equation. and claire doesn't linger on the fact the nightmares are worse and that it might be because she'd grown so used to a warmth being there to help chase them away and it hasn't been there. she doesn't like that some part of her craves that warmth to such a degree as if she can't support herself when she can.

but..

maybe there was a kind of strength in knowing one didn't want to face demons alone too. and things were still so fresh. trauma took time to recover from.

claire also doesn't remember that leon texted her they were going to let him have an extremely brief leave from the confines of the base for the first time though later she'll think maybe it had been supposed to start the next day. regardless, on this specific day, as the tv is still on and talking about revelations made because of how impacting such things are, the day's shows being run over by news reports, she's unaware of the door opening or that she's neck deep in the worst nightmare she's had since that first night after raccoon that they hadn't just passed out and actively tried to sleep until she feels warmth awakening her and for just a split second she forgets she's not back in a shitty motel. there's no panic in her awakening like there might be had it been someone else because some part of her body automatically knows that warmth. but there is labored breathing, her coming down from the images in her dreams.

his voice finds her as a glass is placed in her hands and it alarms her that he'd been there long enough to get it with her none the wiser. that shouldn't have been able to happen, she knew better than to let her guard down. what if it hadn't been leon? still, claire takes a sip, the coolness of it awakening her to the reality of the moment. then she hands it back to him to place on the coffee table, her eyes trying to focus to see if it was still daytime or had found it's way into late evening. "maybe i'm the one that should be going to boot camp. i'd have been taken out before i could have even gotten to the knife between the cushions." she states, an air of frustration at herself, because it's totally normal that a nineteen-year-old should be worrying about that. yet she continues.

"glad it's you, though. i missed you." she tells him, her hand reaching to touch his arm. "but you didn't go awol right? because if you did, i'm going to need at least five minutes to come up with a diversion in case this place is being monitored for our get away. i feel like that's the kind of message chris would have had nightmares about a few years ago, his sister running off with a runaway soldier." but all joking aside, claire would, wouldn't she? if leon asked her to. she kind of feels like that kind of intensity should scare a normal person, but maybe she stopped being normal from the first moment the face of the undead turned to look at her.

[legaciestold]

early january 2019, somewhere in dc alternate timeline @everythingheard (leon)

the last few weeks have been a sort of blurred amalgamation of chaos. well, if claire is honest with herself the last few months have been really. it wasn't that long ago that she'd been a simple girl who's most stressing factor of her life was what was going to be on the following day's test in one of her college courses or her annoyance at chris' lack of contact as of late. that'd been what had led her toward a weekend in raccoon city. she'd go there, visit with jill and barry and chris and chastise her older brother for being incognito. then, she'd call text her roommate and tell her everything was fine and she'd had an epic weekend and was relatively prepared for monday's quiz. simple. except, nothing about that night she'd driven into raccoon had been simple and the horror show had failed to end in the aftermath, instead shifting and reforming into car chases and kidnappings and two outbreaks on that god-damned island and in antarctica.

it'd been hard, to stay ahead of all their enemies leading up to paris and claire's fairly certain they wouldn't have made it as far as they had without david and john and becca who, at least the former two, had access to all kinds of underground means to help them through various contacts they'd made in the world prior. not in this day and age where all someone had to do was snap a picture and facial recognition could do the rest. she'd had to completely change her hair color to red from her darker strands too-- temporarily-- but at least sherry had gotten a kick out of wearing a wig. it'd also meant none of them could really spend time outside the safe houses which often meant that claire and leon had a lot of time to stick together and get to know one another. they hadn't been as outgoing as sherry who always asked the other three questions and it hadn't occurred to her until she'd been captured the first time that she hadn't slept alone in months either. not because her and leon were.. well, she wasn't sure what they were even if she'd picked up some signals from him that maybe he wouldn't mind being more than just.. friends, but because there was only so much space and they wanted sherry to have her own bed so it'd been practical, especially at the beginning to just lay next to each other on one. they were adults, it wasn't a big deal. and if they sometimes they ended up closer, it was just because one of them had a nightmare and it.. helped to have the other there.

but then she'd felt as if her and leon had been upon the precipice of some kind of shift that had been building since utah only for her to be captured by umbrella and shipped off to rockfort. they'd barely even gotten a reunion when chris had brought her back either because everyone was moving and scattering because their location had been discovered and her and leon had just been trying to get sherry somewhere safe. it'd only been a few hours later when they'd been surrounded and panic had set in when she'd thought it was umbrella. it hadn't been a relief when she'd realized it was her own government though either. at least they'd let them stay together on the transport. but claire hadn't been sure if it was a good faith tactic or sympathy before they killed them for what they knew and that had haunted them for a number of hours before they'd been forced apart at some base or where ever the fuck they'd been taken. she's pretty sure she'd managed to land at least a black eye to one operative. in any case, she hadn't calmed until hours later, after their deals had been presented and she'd known there was at least some value placed on her life by them.

she'd used that, to the best of her ability.

agreed to their terms if they agreed to hers. claire had quickly learned that they weren't going to let her or leon have sherry back but at least they'd said they could see her and she thinks, now, that likely had to do with the fact it was something both her and leon had countered with when presented with their respective deals. she'd gotten them to agree to clear the s.t.a.r.s. members like her brother too though she felt that was possibly something they were already planning on. if they weren't going to kill them for what they knew they wanted people they could use. people that they could keep within their grasp instead of allowing to reveal what they knew. people with experience to help them against something like raccoon happening again. eventually, claire decided there was some truth to that and maybe they weren't full of malice in detaining them but it hadn't meant she fully trusted them either. she hadn't really stopped hearing her heart pounding in her ears until they'd let her see leon and they'd told each other what they'd been made to agree too; what they'd agreed to protect sherry but also to protect each other.

and that last realization had nearly overwhelmed her in it's intensity and all the little implications that it held within it.

at least... though, they let them say bye to sherry and claire thinks leon's hold on her had lasted far passed when her and him had been allowed to finally have some place to rest because maybe that hold was the only thing keeping them from feeling as if everything was ripped away in that moment. it wasn't freedom, they were still in a kind of house arrest until things began to move into place with their deals, but it was a room without eyes on them. a room they'd been in together because they'd steadfastly refused to be separated when things were so influx and some part of them maybe still believed despite the deals they were in danger. that'd been days ago and claire thinks maybe the last few days have been the least her and leon have actually communicated with each other sans figuring out what their deals were going to cause their futures to look like and the relief they'd had when they'd been told that her brother and the others had been found but weren't being detained, only debriefed and they were being cleared of the falsehoods spread after raccoon. part of claire figures that made sense, since most of them had been military prior it'd be easier to gain cooperation once they were shown the government knew the truth and were willing to clear them.

things had calmed now too, in relation to her and leon's situation. they weren't being treated badly.. now, at least. they were being informed of things. they told him about what lay ahead with his training and told her they'd had her school records altered to take off the fails in all her classes when she hadn't shown up for them after raccoon and they were securing her what was needed for what they'd agreed to with her. but her and leon hadn't really had a moment to address anything between them about them even if that shift still felt present, maybe in some ways more so in the subtle moments in the last few days they'd kept each other in their sight, in the way they automatically held a united front when someone communicated with them, arms brushing, a hand held to comfort and calm, in the way there'd been a shift to her curling into him instead of facing away out of some semblance of maintaining a line that said 'we're only stopping nightmares by laying like this, we're just friends'. she thinks maybe, that's his way of protecting her too, especially after she'd been missing for so long after paris with him unknowing if she was even alive until she'd gotten that video call out and she'd seen his tired features come back to life when he'd appeared on the screen and saw her.

thank god for modern technology.

but now, as claire watches him return to the quarters and pause at the door searching the room until his gaze lands on her and knows she's still there just like she does every time she's called out of the room and returns to him, the fact that they are going to be separated again finally fully washes over her like a train running her over. it's not goodbye, claire reminds herself. in no world were they going to let it be yet as it stood it wasn't what it could be either. or rather, their future wasn't. it strikes her, that for some time now, when she's thought about the future there was some version of them in it. that he'd become this force in her life that had impacted in her a way that would never not be present. that even if she was going to be allowed to go finish college and he was going to go off for some training that she knew was going to be a hell of lot worse than standard training (she'd spent years on a base, she'd heard the stories about special forces and other types of training), she didn't want to leave things unsaid or influx. she wanted.. she wanted him to have a reason to come back.. to her. she wanted them to have a focus point. something solid, even if it was just a hope for something. maybe that's what they both needed after all the shit they'd been through. it's also why claire's crossing the room before she can stop herself. it's why she doesn't stop until she's so close to him that she can feel his breath and warmth because he hasn't been the one to broach this yet but she's willing to be. it's why her gaze washes over his whole face, lingering on his lips for a brief moment before settling on his ocean eyes.

"i don't know what the next few months are going to look like for either of us, leon. but what i do know is, i like you." that word didn't seem to encompass all of what she felt but it was all the previous lit major was able to muster at the moment. "i'm willing to admit that now." she states, letting her hand reach up to touch the side of his face. suddenly she feels like a highschooler with a crush and not a woman standing there with someone she's gone through hell and back with. but she pushes that down and continues. "i think this thing between us.. i think it could be something. i want it to be, but i'll survive if you don't." she wouldn't judge him if he refused this; they were both still dealing with a hell of a lot of trauma claire also thought sometimes the best things in life were things you had to fight for or be brave enough to take a leap of faith for. that was what hope was and somewhere along the way leon had become hope to her, and.. warmth. hopeful warmth that she sought out like a cat to the sun. she was ready to, she could only just hope he was too. "i just know i do like you and i have for awhile now and i know you're someone i'm willing to wait for while you go off to train. if you want me to be."

[legaciestold]

valdelobos, spain may 2022 alternate timeline @everythingheard (leon)

claire hadn't been dressed to be trekking through mud or climbing through windows or for any physically taxing activity though the twenty-two year-old was glad, now, that she'd opted out of the heels she'd contemplated however many days ago she'd been standing in front of the mirror and looking at the blue-grey dress she had chosen to wear. a dress that was torn and bloodstained in multiple places but thankfully still covered most of her. at least the dress had had sleeves and been multi-layered even if the top layer was nearly sheer. she thinks it could have been three or four days when she focuses on the moments of clarity her mind recalls in-between slices of chaos but it's hard to pin-point when consciousness had failed to be her friend for a large part of the last few days.

claire remembers the impact to the vehicle on the way to the ceremony; the shattered glass as it flew through the air and sliced parts of her body with minor cuts and the radiating pain of a headwound from the whiplash. she faintly recalls shots, agents engaging with whoever had targeted them. well, claire hadn't thought they were targeting her. no, they definitely would be after ashley. yet it was a bold move and in the moment claire had understood the agent in charge of ashley's safety's displeasure with ashley's insistence of showing up to the event in a normal looking transport rather than something more flashy. there'd been valid points made on both sides though: perhaps less obvious security even if they were in cars surrounding the vehicle and inside it, but it also meant no one on the outside should have known who was in the car. how had they known? it's something claire remembers pondering before being yanked out of the wreak and drug toward a van with ashley, a trail of dead agents and a car exploding in their wake.

claire remembers a stone room too. remembers being restrained and waking ashley up. she remembers speaking quickly and observing everything she could about the items around them. she remembers telling her what to look for when they come for them, what openings to find and telling her to hit anything that moved once she managed to get a hold of any sort of heavy object. she remembers telling ashley not to worry about her too. run if you get the chance. whatever you do, don't look back. and she remembers driving it home with a comment that if ashley escapes it means more help for both of them sooner. claire just hadn't expected to be the one to escape. she wouldn't say she'd delight in it or what it'd mean for her, but she'd much rather have been the distraction for ashley to escape.

though, there was no telling if ashley had made it out of that church or not. considering claire had literally gone through a window, she doubted it. but claire hadn't held any choice in the moment. ashley wasn't there when she'd awoken in another room again, cool stone under her and someone else's blood staining her clothes from the alter they'd put her on. there were too many of them for her to get through to try to find ashley, at least without weapons. claire would have to get out, find some way to send some kind of signal, and circle back with whatever she could find. she finds the moment of her almost death to also be her saving grace, fear rising within her when she sees someone coming toward her with a silver weapon. she struggles, ropes burning her skin before their action is halted a moment later because they see something in her face. something's taken to her blood and it'd seemed to take a bit longer than others, making them think it hadn't her. if she'd had more time she might have been more disturbed by the words but she uses the moment when they loosen the restraints to move her and someone bursts into the room to say the girl wasn't in the room anymore to kick out at the person closest to her and launch herself through glass as if she was channeling her boyfriend.

the action causes the cuts on her skin to burn and the bruises of another impact from when she'd hit the ground to ache. yet claire had risen all the same, forced one foot in front of the other until she'd managed to get into tall grasses and began to try to find anything of use. it feels like raccoon all over again when the zombies that weren't quite zombies find her. the men from before fail to show yet it doesn't take claire long to determine two things: firstly, they were likely much more tied up in trying to find ashley who'd clearly listened to her survival tips and secondly, that they or someone they worked for controlled these 'zombies'.

at least umbrella hadn't had that power.

at some point over the next half-hour claire finds an old first aid kit in a semi-dilapidated house with the umbrella logo on it causing her to curse herself for jinxing it. she vaguely recalls umbrella's attempt after raccoon three years ago to save face by sending aid kits into villages after some sort of natural disaster hit a section of spain. but their attempt had been futile when everything had come out about umbrella and the government a month later followed by the resignation of the president that led to ashley's dad's election. even so, claire recalls enough from raccoon to know that the spray in the kit could do wonders for the wounds plaguing her now. she never thought she'd be thankful for anything umbrella, but she supposed ther was a first time for everything. or, it was merely the universe's version of a cosmic joke.

regardless, claire uses it before another zombie prompts her into a two-story house that also was worse for wear. if nothing else, she considers maybe, finally, this place might be able to offer her something else more practical and less torn (which was becoming more of a hinderance in every fight) to wear and possibly some kind of weapon. if she was lucky she'd find some means of devise to get a message out. hell, she'd even take a psp that still had any power. at least that had internet function and if it was turned off when shit hit the fan it might still have enough juice to power on. claire allows herself that moment of hopeful fantasy that she knows is downright stupid wishful thinking before she's startled by the sound of a crash from upstairs and then gun shots.

she just manages to hide as a large man in a trench coat and hat (that reminds her way too much of a tyrant) moves down the stairs and out the door before she's scrambling carefully up the stairs and toward where she thinks the sound came from. claire grabs a broken piece of a knocked over statue from the hallway, edging toward the door before she hears a voice (speaking to hunnigan on comms) that causes her to drop the object in the door way. "holy fuck, l--leon?" relief courses through her, though perhaps not total surprise; the fact he's found them or well, her, thus far, or rather she has him, here, makes sense considering his job and the fact both her and ashley were abducted.

"leon-- ashley.. she's at the church. she was not that long ago at least." claire begins because no matter how much she wants to have at least one moment with her boyfriend after all the shit she's just went through and no doubt about to still go through she needs to tell him where ashley is before anything else, just in case. "i didn't want to leave her but i didn't know where in that place she was and they wanted to fucking sacrifice me on an alter until.. they said something about a gift and my blood. it doesn't matter. i was trying to find a weapon and.. some means to send for help but you're here now." she also needed to find clothes before her dress ripped anymore than it already had. but considering they were standing in a bedroom, maybe she was in luck on that front.

"--you're here." claire repeats, taking a step forward as if, while she had known it, now that she's stopped talking for a moment and really looking at him she's fully realized it. she reaches out for him. "we-- really have to stop meeting like this." the last part is breathed out into his chest as she collides with him.