"'Why wouldn't it be?'" Chris echoes back at her. "I don't know, maybe the fact that I heard there was an attack yesterday?"

"There was," she confirms. "Remnants of the Majini have been an on and off problem in the camp, and actually, the BSAA hasn't been too much help."

"Yeah, I'm sorry we had to pull most everyone out, but there was a pretty bad outbreak in Milan and we were worried it might be Plaga related. I dunno if they're going to send anyone back in, but I can pull some strings, maybe?"

Claire glances back across the tent. "No. Don't worry about pushing for that. They're getting less bold with the attacks, anyway. It'll settle once the locals are more settled again."

She has to think about it for a moment. Backup - especially people who were trained in combat  - would be beneficial in some ways. In other ways, having more foreigners encroaching in Kijuju is probably not the answer at this point. This isn't just to keep the man in her tent squirreled away. Though. That is probably most of it.

"If you're sure…" Chris doesn't sound sure. 

"I am. I'll tell you if it gets too bad here for us to stay. Promise."

They say their goodbyes, she hangs up the satellite phone, and then her attention turns to Him.

"I suppose this is the part where I thank you for not immediately turning me over." His voice is still rough and scratchy. The remains of the virus had done a good bit of healing before it had burned itself out of him. He's not going to die, but he's in pretty rough shape…and human again, more or less.

"That would have put me in some deep shit, too."

It's not comparable, and they both know that, but he's either too tired or doesn't care enough to argue it. They also both also know that this isn't a sustainable situation. She's not going to be in Kijuju forever, and he can't go off by himself. Well, maybe he could, but she's sure as hell not going to let him.  He lets out a long, weary sigh and she can't help but echo it, going to sit on the cot where he lays. "You're lucky I like you," she tells him.

"Yes, because that has never caused me any sort of issues."

She thinks of sneaking out of the house on breaks from college to meet him in the parking lot outside the RPD building. Thinks of ill-advised making out in the back of his car that she should have fucking figured was too expensive for a S.T.A.R.S Captain's salary. Thinks of the last time she'd seen him before this month, Rockfort Island, one of the worse few nights of her life. He'd been nearly unrecognizable as her brother's boss who she'd been entertaining a mostly physical relationship with. 

"I hadn't really considered that it caused you any issues," she tells him, tone dry as she leans back next to him now, careful not to brush any of the spots where the burns still are bad. "I mean. If we really want to go there, you didn't have to be with me."

He's silent for a long time beside her. "No," he croaks out finally. "I  suppose I didn't. But I did want to. I wouldn't have bothered if I hadn't. Those were very busy times."

"Working two jobs?" Claire asks, a little more of the sarcasm coming out than she'd meant to show.

He seems to drift, then, grey-blue eyes glazing over slightly as his gaze drifts upwards.  "It all seems like a lifetime ago."

"...Yeah, it does." 

They're both different people than they were in early '98. He scowls, face twisting though the burns limit his range of movement. "I didn't know what I was, then."

Claire frowns at him, rolling over on her side slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Spencer made me. Made us. Put something in our DNA that would make myself and the other children from the project that made me that would make us seek him out, trust him immediately. Of course, I've never been fantastic at following directions."

"You killed him, I heard that part."

He nods. "Yes, I did. Unfortunately, the man had to get the last word in." Like father like son, Claire doesn't say. "He made it very clear that everything I had done was by his design. So I aimed to prove him wrong."

"Yeah? And how's that working out for you."

"Wonderfully," he says dryly, turning his scowl on her. "I'm currently entirely free of everything he wanted me to be, am I not?"

He doesn't really feel that way, right? The scowl seems to suggest that he doesn't. "You don't mean that."

"Well, if I don't find something redeemable about this situation, I might very well decide to throw myself back in that volcano and save us both the trouble."

"That's not funny," she tells him, even if it is a little bit. She doesn't need to encourage him. "Look, I don't know how this is going to pan out, okay? But leaving you to die would have been the wrong thing to do, I think. And you're virus-free now anyway."

"I don't think you'll be able to convince Chris that I don't still deserve to hang. Hm. Perhaps I do. If I had succeeded, it would have been one thing, but I failed. Those deaths, while worth little to me, amounted to nothing in the end."

"There are so many things wrong with that I don't even know where to start," she rolls back onto her back and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm not even going to bother with that. We can do morality lessons when you can get out of bed and help me with Terrasave work. For now, you're going to take a nap."