Chapter Text
Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children?
Tell me, so I say
Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children?
Tell me, so I say! (Tell me, so I say!)
She can't keep them all caged
They'll be far and fly away
Mother, tell me you will stay
We'll be far and fly away
Claire groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she stared at the report on her screen, the TV half way across the room blaring about the Eastern Slav Republic. That was a mess and a half, if what she’d been hearing was completely true. Then again, in this day and age, with her line of work? Nothing seemed impossible.
“Chirst is that the after report from that place on the news?” One of her coworkers sounded off to the right, causing Claire to look in that direction. Tia had her arms propped up on the cubical wall, looking at the screen with mild concern. “That’s just messed up.”
“That's a mild way to put it,” Clarie admitted as she glanced back at her screen, looking at the images that sat at the top of the report. A picture of the gray skinned Tyrant (or rather its corpse, mutilated almost beyond recognition), something that she prayed she’d never have to see again in her lifetime. The thing that stalked her and Leon still haunted her nightmares, its pale emotionless face was more often than not what startled her awake. The second contained a Licker, its animalistic looking body still vile to look at. The third, Plaga. How they got their hands on any of them, Claire would never know.
“That’s, what, two different viruses there?” Tia must have been referring to her screen.
“A virus and a parasite.” Tia’s face crinkled in a way that Claire could only describe as dubious and disgusted.
“Like a worm?” Tia asked herself quietly. which in turn prompted Swanson to make a gagging sound at the word ‘worm’.
“Its just a word Swanson, get over it!” Someone else snapped from across the room as Tia mumbled sorry to Swanson, who peered from over the edge of the cubicle and glared at her.
“Disgusting creatures,” he hummed as he turned his gaze to Claire. “Have you gotten the newest report yet?”
This piqued Claire’s interest. Swanson gestured to her screen before dipping back down and the rapid clicking of keys sounded. Claire raised a brow at this, before her computer dinged. Turning to her screen, she clicked on the new email that appeared in her inbox. Anonymous tips, sometimes a blessing in disguise, other times a nuisance. Usually a nuisance. Most of the time the tips that they got were bogus, cruel pranks on neighbors, and…. Other incidents that she really didn’t wanna talk about.
The photo itself was grainy. Two blurred figures carrying what looked like guns, another was pulling a trolley with something on it. Something that had a splash of red. Claire squinted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Swanson seemed to catch onto Claire’s confusion.
“There’s also a video—”
“Send it please.” She was curt, but polite, eyes locked on the screen as a second ding sounded and she clicked into the video. As it played, the time of day was sunset as two figures bolted into the frame arguing about something. The third figure came into view, his mask half off his face showing the panic inlaid in his features.
“Please! Let me go! Let me go please!” a voice called out, the figure on the gurney struggling in the restraints as weakly as the third figure swore, pulling tighter on the gurney restraints and causing the captive to cry out in pain. The fourth person had hair the color of fire fluttering in the strong wind. Claire froze. She knew that voice. She knew that color.
“Sorry for that little misunderstanding-”
“I know! But I don’t think we have much of a choice here!”
“Don’t worry, your knight in shining armor is here!”
“It seems your brother is under surveillance by Umbrella."
“I found it, I’m keeping it.”
“So you don’t know much about this place, do ya?”
“See? You can depend on me.”
“I’m no rat, I’m gonna make that clear to him!”
“He won’t come! You’ll just end up disappointed if you rely on others!”
“She injected me with something, I think it’s the Veronica Virus.”
“Claire, she wants me to kill you!”
“I won’t… I WoN’T… WOn’T kILl yOU!”
“No… I’m not gonna make it… You know that. The virus is in me… There’s no turning back.”
It was Steve. It had to be Steve! Sure the voice was older, weathered and scared; but she still remembered the crack in the teens voice when they were flung around in the snow cat. The way he pushed back that flame red hair, stressed out because of the puzzles the mansion they were in kept throwing at them. Steve’s smile was oddly infectious, but considering his age and hers then… Claire understood why she smiled with him. They were young. They had still believed that they’d both come out alive from that hellhole.
It’d been 13 years since she’d last heard his voice. 13 years since he was killed. Steve Burnside had died, trying to defy the orders of another ‘would be god’ in her defense. His rebellion cost him his life. The young man who’d fought beside Claire, defended her, even saved her, never even got a proper burial. Wesker had his men take the body. Chris and her had done their damnedest to try and track it down. Nothing but ash.
Nothing. Claire thought that the ex-S.T.A.R.S captain had destroyed him after getting what he’d needed from the body. She’d lost hope. Like ashes to the wind.
But this…
“Swanson, you broke her.”
“EH? I did not! All I did was send the report!”
“Yeah, and you broke her with it.”
“Huh?” Claire said stupidly, blinking and looking between her two bickering coworkers.
“See she's fine!” Swanson snapped, gesturing over his cubical wall at Tia.
“You don’t know that. You saw her face drain-”
“Guys!” Claire snapped, causing the two to flinch and stare at her. Claire pulled in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and exhaled. “I… I am going to take a walk… OK? Please don’t try and kill each other over my desk.” She stood, feeling both Swanson’s and Tia’s gaze on her. “OK? You will behave. So I don’t have to come back and write up a report on why the two of you were fighting?” Tia seemed to deflate a little as Swanson muttered something, looking away. Claire gave a thumbs up before turning on her heel and speed walking out of the office.
“Who put that stick up her ass?” She faintly heard Swanson mutter before he grunted. Claire rolled her eyes as she heard Tia snap something about ‘throwing something more than a donut hole.’
It wasn’t till Claire was out of the building that she realized that she was crying. Which came to her as a surprise. She’d seen worse, dealt with worse! Why was this the thing that brought forth the tears?
Steve was alive.
Was it because all this time she sat on her ass, instead of looking for whatever trails could have led to them finding him? But she hadn’t been sitting around, she’d been busy dealing with whatever aftermath there was from Raccoon City, other outbreaks! And on top of that she’d been looking! How had she missed it?
Steve was alive!
Claire sucked in air, chest hitching as she fought to catch her breath. She had to think, she had to plan. If TerraSave knew about this, it would be bound to reach her brother. It took a minute, but Claire was able to compose herself enough to pull out her phone and dial. The only thing was, would her brother even be awake, or was he off on a mission? Another thing was, how she was going to word it without breaking down again.
“Chris get your dog off of me.” Chris didn’t even look up from his seat, carefully leafing through the book he was reading. “Chris. Get your dog off of me.”
“Bear is fine. He’s trying to help you out,” Chris hummed, earning a scoff from the room’s other occupant.
“I don’t need your service dog, Chris.” This time Chris looked over at the couch, a brow raised as he stared at Leon. Bear had settled himself on Leon’s chest, his tongue lazily hanging out as he panted into Leon’s face. Leon… looked less than pleased at this. He’d only just come into the room and had settled onto the couch to maybe catch the news, but instead was just laying there, blankly staring into the black screen, Chris wasn’t even sure what Leon had in mind anymore, he had the remote in his hand, but the TV stayed black. Chris didn’t help but notice that Leon’s hand had moved to his chest, clenching the fabric of his shirt. Then, 2 minutes after Leon came in and flopped onto the couch, Bear came in, tail wagging. Now Bear lay on top of the man, all 115 pounds of him.
Chris only snorted, and Leon’s mandibles flared as he hissed. Chris only huffed at him in return, before motioning his hand.
“Come on Bear. Lets leave Mr. Grumpypants alone for now,” Chris cooed to the dog, who reluctantly got off of Leon and meandered his way over to Chris, tail wagging. Leon inhaled deeply before looking at the dark TV. “I saw the report Leon.” He went still at Chris’s words. “Your last mission.” Eastern Slav Republic. Leon’s mandibles clacked together audibly. “We… we all know what jobs like this entail.”
“I don’t need a fucking speach Chris.”
Chris shrugged his shoulders.“Seems like you do. That or you have something on your mind that’s been bugging you.” Leon’s eyes darted away at that. “And it seems that’s what it is,” Chris said, tone softening slightly. “Who’d you lose?”
“What do you know—” Leon’s comment died in his throat, almost like his brain hadn’t quite caught up with his mouth, mandibles snapping shut from the sudden aggression.
Chris understood that pain.
“... I didn’t—” Leon started, voice cracking ever so slightly.
“I know,” Chris interrupted, Bear nosing his hand to get his owner to pet him.
“I shouldn’t of—”
“It’s alright,” Chris reiterated, looking down at his book before closing it. “I get that feeling.” He could feel Leon’s eyes on him as he stared at his mutated hand, nails dull from the most recent trim. “S.T.A.R.S was practically wiped out at the Spencer Mansion. It happened a few months before Raccoon fell.” Chris started, faces of old comrades drifting across his memories. Frost, Vickers, Marini, Sullivan, Aiken, Speyer, and Dewey. Two from Alpha team all but one from Bravo team died in a span of 2 days, and how could he include Wesker? It was Wesker who’d led them to that deathtrap. Chris sucked a breath that he realized was shaky.
“Rebecca Chambers, Barry Burtan, Jill and I were the only survivors of that night.” Chris hummed out as Bear reached up and started licking his face. “I… I left not long after that, I was trying to gain intel on Umbrella, because of what they’d done… So I wasn’t in Raccoon when that powder keg blew. Jill was though.” Leon openly winced at that, and Chris snorted at that. “I can assume that it wasn’t a good night for you and Claire either?” It was rhetorical, but the nod Leon gave him all he needed to know. Claire had told her own chilling tale that night.
“There was this kid… or young adult, I’m not sure,” Leon began after the two sat in silence for what felt like an hour. “He was part of the rebel cell, fighting against their government. Couldn’t have been older than 20? Maybe he was younger?” Chris felt a knot start to form in his stomach. “He… He got infected.” There it was. “Him and a bunch of others were hiding out in the area church when they ambushed. He was the only survivor, or I thought he was.” Leon pulled in a breath as Chris watched his chest expand, then relaxed as the man let loose the air. “He fought the Plaga to his bitter end. His friend couldn’t…”
“You put him down,” Chris finished.
“Yes.” The word came out as a breathy, rattled hiss. Leon fisted the fabric of his shirt into a ball. “I keep thinking back to Spain. What could have happened to me!”
Ah. There it was. The ‘what if’. Chris knew that feeling all too well.
“I felt the same way for a while. Claire too.” Leon sitting up on the couch was louder than it should have been in the quiet room, his questioning look said everything. “The same year Raccoon fell, around December if I remember correctly,” Chris continued, eyes closed in thought. The memory itself was clearer than it should have been, unlike so many had gotten over the years. Year after year fighting whatever was thrown his way, fighting to take down Umbrella, and then his mutation.
“I remember Claire left to look for you,” Leon said quietly. Chris nodded in turn. “Was this when—”
“She’d gone to Europe, the uh… ‘clue’ that I’d left for Jill. She must have read it.” And judging by Leon’s face, he had as well. “Not what you think.”
“Not what it sounded like,” Leon retorted, and Chris barked out a laugh before going somber again.
“By the time I’d received your message and made my way to Rockfort Island, Claire was already gone. On a plane to the arctic with another. He…” Chris felt a small piece of himself wither at the thought. “For years, I’ve always had the thought of ‘what would have happened if I got there sooner?’”
“There was another?” Leon’s voice was again quiet, this time tinged with sadness. Chris nodded.
“Yeah. His name was Steve. He ah… He was about Claire’s age at the time I think. The only time I met him was… was right before he died.” Chris didn’t have to look to see Leon’s back bristle at the sentence. He took a breath before continuing. “He and Claire were already separated when I got there. Claire I found first, Steve we found together but by then he’d…. He’d already been infected.”
“With what?”
“T-Veronica.”
“Fuck…. I remember that one.” At Chris’s questioning look, Leon said, “Operation Javier. Continue.”
“Not much else that I remember…” Chris hummed, absently petting Bear. “We had to fight him off. Then Alexia, the one who infected him grabbed us with these vines, held us down. She had me on the floor, Claire though? Hoisted up into the air and had two holding her, arm and leg. Could of…” Chris let loose a low growl before recomposing himself. “Could have ripped her in two. But she wanted Steve to do it. A sibling for a sibling.” Chris didn’t notice as Leon’s posture tensed, or that his eyes never left him. “He couldn’t do it though. Somehow… He broke her control over him. Went for the vine holding Claire and…” Chris hung his head down a little, staring at the floor. “Alexia killed him.”
“Chris…” Leon started, but the man didn’t seem to hear him, lost in the memory.
“He was just a kid, Leon. Even when mutated, you could see the fear on his face. He defied the orders given to him, to help someone. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why he turned back. Claire was in hysterics, crying even before she dropped. She.. She ran to his side, trying to stop the bleeding.”
“... Could he—” Leon didn’t even finish the question, and Chris shook his head.
“It went clean through him. Didn’t even stand a chance. Even then, it was in him still.” Leon bowed his head, and Chris noted the thoughtful look on his face. He didn’t say anything about noticing the tears welling in his eyes before they were whipped away. “Claire was stoic afterwards. It wasn’t till we were safe that she finally broke down.” And that was saying something. Chris knew his sister's moods better than most back then. Now, not so much. She became a mostly reserved person, keeping her pain close to the heart. Or buried it with her work. He knew that feeling all too well when he’d thrown himself into his work after Jill’s ‘death’.
“Were you able to bury him?” It’s a genuine question on Leon’s part. Given how usually the infected are piled up and burned, so there was nothing anyone could use to bring back whatever it was that infected the people. Many families never got a body, just a container of ashes. Chris stayed quiet, the little part of him that wilted earlier, wilted even more.
“... No,” Chris quietly admitted, not paying heed to Leon’s reaction. “Wesker got a hold of him… that and we didn’t have time. We both looked, trust me. But his trail went dead. We don’t even know if Wesker even got what he wanted from him.” Again, an honest answer, but it wasn’t a good one either.
“Well that explains that one mission I went on,” Leon muttered, his head now in his hands. Chris raised his head back up, looking genuinely confused at his other companion in the room. Leon in turn huffed, mandibles flaring slightly before a catchy ringtone of someone's phone going off interrupted him. Chris blinked, a hand diving into one of his pockets as Leon watched with careful curiosity. With a slight curse, his hand dipped behind one of the couch cushions before pulling out the small device.
“Claire,” He hummed, before hitting the answer button, and the phone was now at his ear. He wasn’t expecting to hear her sniffing on the other end. Before he could even start, she started talking, rapid fire.
“Whoa, hey, what’s—”
“It’s Steve.” Chris went still, his eyes must have gone wide cause Leon was now looking at him with confusion. It couldn’t be who he was thinking. Could it? “Steve’s alive.” What were the chances? What even were the chances?
“H-how? I thought he was—”
“I know!” Claire’s breath hitched at the other end, as if she was trying to keep her composure. “I know, but we just got this tip, and it had a video! I saw him, Chris! It was Steve!” Chris knew better than to question his sister when it came to her work. “I don’t know who has him, all I know it was three people in hazmat suits, and they were carting him away screaming.”
Chris’s gaze snapped up when the door opened. AJ stood there, eyes wide as they landed on Leon.
“We have a potential B.O.W. situation.” He said breathlessly. Leon groaned.
----- felt his eyes flutter open, the feeling of a medical mask on his face and the hissing of oxygen. The sound of medical equipment(a heart monitor maybe?) sounded around him. Voices fading in and out around him as a bright fluorescent light half blinding sat above him. Pressure on his arm, and suddenly it was in view. He blinked, vision swimming as the voices kept talking, pen scratching on what he thought was paper.
Red jacket, red hair. A face of beauty and steel stood behind him. She was unafraid.
“Start the test.” Someone faintly said, an air of authority about them. ----- felt heavy. And wrong. Why did he feel so wrong? His hand dully throbbed, making him look back to it in a sluggish manner. ----- felt his eyes widened. His hand was growing, it was starting to turn green. ----- felt his eyes go wide as pain dully throbbed across his body, intensifying on his arm. Monitors started to shriek, panic filling the room.
Blue eyes wide, her hand to mouth as pain ripped through him. ‘Don’t look at me!’ was all he could think of.
----- stared in growing horror, a haze going across his mind as his hand popped and stretched in beat with every pulse. Someone was screaming to sedate him. He was pretty sure he was screaming as well. Hands, hands hands(Undead grasping at his legs, chest and arms) held him down as he kept screaming.
His side hurt, breathing hurt. She was at his side, hands stained red like her jacket, her hair, eyes tinted red from tears. She was crying. She wanted him to hold on.
A pricking feeling doused the pain as quickly as it came, dimming the angry haze in his mind with numbness. The monitors slowed, ----- felt his eyes getting heavy. His arm shrank to his relief.
Words died on his lips, it was getting harder to breath, to talk. His vision dimmed to black. The last thing he heard was her quiet voice.
“We will try again.” A voice sounded, ------- hearing becoming muddled, and the final thing he heard before the embrace of the void welcomed him again; “We need control of this beast.”
“Steve, no.”