✨ 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞

All of them tore at his heart.

He felt as if she had doused him in shame. As if this had all been his doing. It had not… but… part of it…

“I’m sorry…”, he uttered so quietly. It was so little, but his tone was honest, as genuine as it could be. His eyes still stared through the papers she had scattered in front of him. But his mind was in his own memories.

“I didn’t want this… I… I just wanted to help…”

That had been all. Everything he had done, he had chased this education, this dream, this very research because of one person. The one, who had been his whole world, all of his family. And now it all turned out to have been a lie. The Nemesis project… it had only bene revolutionized because he had been part of it. Because he had been the one to bring forth the parasite residing deep in the mountains of Valdelobos.

Abuelo would hate me…

“I thought we would help people who are sick… they told me it was to make quadriplegic walk again. To mend neurodegenerative diseases. To help those, who lose all control over their own body…”

How abuelo’s hands had looked. Cramped up and tense. His tendons showing through marred skin. Digging painfully into Luis’ arms. And how his face had looked at this…

“Those, who die suffering from pain in their body – and their mind…”

How he had screamed. How he had tried to muffle his suffering at night, hoping Luis wouldn't hear how he bit into blankets.

If only he kept it to that. She wouldn't feel something shifting inside her own chest. The anger was rooted in deeply... but she wasn't a cruel person by nature. Her eyes shift in an uncertain dance as he lays out what he thinks his work meant.

The dawning look of horror isn't for him. It's a realisation. She understood that Umbrella operates through a web of lies. There were documents that directly implicated Raccoon City's chief of police as partaking in bribes for covering up Umbrella's more secretive operations and goodness knows what else, it would have been laughable to think the corruption would cease there.

Now she's learning even some of the employees are in the same web. It's a life changing moment she could have done without. Easier to operate in a black and white state of mind, not this confusing area as grey as this scientist's eyes. She's believing him. Truly. She shouldn't trust a word from the man who cracked her so hard her nose bled and she saw a daze of stars.

Claire's eyes lower. He had her gun. He knew how to take off the safety. He didn't aim at her, he went straight for the computers. Her head lowers further and she clutches it in both hands. Fuck. If no one was coming to the laboratory yet, it was only a matter of time. She rocks a little. Fuck fuck fuck. Not the time to grow a conscience. But how is she supposed to gun down any opposition now, when Umbrella's workforce weren't all rotten? Her fingers clutch in her hair fiercely. A mini breakdown before she springs to action.

The uniform was functional. It had the cuffs, and also the keys. She retrieves them and pulls herself across to where he is sat in his own sorrows. She sniffs and pulls at the handcuffs, meaningfully holding up the key. "... Don't make me regret this." One after the other, his hands are free and her eyes search his face. "My brother disappeared because of Umbrella. He isn't here. They don't have him yet. I don't know what's going on, but... he's under surveillance. I think he knows something from before Raccoon City and they're trying to bury that secret."

Now if she was experiencing a dilemma of not knowing whether the child was his or not, then he'd be rightfully angry. Deeply hurt. But that would have involved cheating and she would never do that. That was not who Claire Redfield was at her core. He would never cheat either—the thought of even looking twice at another woman just wasn't even an occurrence.

They weren't perfect but they were good for each other and with each other. It wasn't like he told her children were a deal breaker for him. That was not something he ever said. She knew this. But he really did need the time to process, to digest that it wasn't going to be just the two of them anymore. And for over fifteen years, it had been. It was a huge life-changing event.

Had they been actively trying for a baby, Leon would have been overjoyed the moment she told him. There was a lot to work through mentally and emotionally and he knew she could afford him the grace because she loved him. She would understand, right? It was the slight, barely perceptible flinch from his wife that made Leon feel a twinge of guilt that struck deep, like he had done something wrong.

If he had then he would apologize for it. Attempt to soothe any pain or undue stress it created. When she said that she wanted to tell Chris, Leon's thoughts were redirected and he just nodded right away. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. He, uh-" A swallow was attempted despite how dry his mouth felt. "-he should know. It's okay with me if you want to share with others, don't need my permission."

It was great—nay, wonderful—news. He could almost picture Sherry now: squealing with excitement and hugging Claire. Even Chris would have the reaction Leon himself should be having right now... Leon couldn't help but hang his head a little, his eyes downcast when he asked, quietly, "Are you disappointed by me?" It took a mighty effort to keep more tears at bay with such an emotional subject.

"What?" She questions reflexively. It's such an absurd thing to ask. Feels so misplaced and out of thin air from where she's sat, she almost brushes it off. Though the way Leon hangs his head, his quieter tone, that telltale shine of more tears? It's serious. He deserves to be seen, even if she doesn't understand it. "No?... No. Leon. I'm the problem. And please don't defend me. I'm feeling many things, but not at you. Never you. I just... thought I was past the point in my life where I fuck up so badly that the ripples crash into someone else like a tidal wave."

Claire pulls her hands from his and palms her long sleeves over her face. She slowly drags the fabric, mopping up her mess, the friction making her pale cheeks turn about as red as her nose. It was a self-soothing little moment. Helps to let some of the tension seep out from an otherwise charged conversation.

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

He can hear the slight hitch of panic when she wakes. That all too familiar jolt of shock from waking in a space that isn't your own while your sleepy mind is still gathering the fragments of memory floating inside of it.

Oh, that blissful moment right before you realize you have fucked up.

Perhaps, to a degree, it is a cruel act to pretend to be still fast asleep. Allowing her to suffer the tedium of searching a still half-darkened room for all of her clothes. The scavenger seems to punctuate each and every sound, and when he hears the subtle noise of what he imagines might be her bumping into either the dresser or a nightstand, he rises up without a word. Reaching for something in the nightstand that's on his side of the bed.

"You can turn the light on if you want. Easier than getting dressed in the dark." He leans forward, and something in his hand clicks and sparks. A flip lighter ignites a small flame, and he turns with the cigarette he'd retrieved perched between his teeth, reaching up to push the window just above his headboard open.