Disclaimer: I do not own RE.
There wasn't such a long wait now was there? For your enjoyment, your pleasure, and maybe even your guilty pleasure… I present to you, the sequel to my hit story Breathless… Shadow of Me.
"Patrick Redfield." Claire started at her son. "You deliberately disobeyed me… I told you to ignore that boy. And what do you do? Fight him."
"Mom… before you yell at me, he started it! And you always told me to defend myself! So what does that make you, mom?" The young boy ran up the stairs, tears on the verge of falling from his hazel eyes.
Claire Redfield sighed and plopped down onto the living room couch. She shook her head and sighed again. Being frustrated with her son was not her favorite thing in the world but this time, he had crossed the line. Both of her children, Patrick and her daughter Kaya, were in sixth grade and were twins. Like most siblings, they fought but they loved each other more than anyone could imagine. Claire knew it was the Redfield heart they both shared. Just as when Chris and she were children, Patrick and Kaya shared a special bond that would never be broken.
"Mom, what's up with Pat?" Claire turned to face the kitchen archway and smiled sadly.
"Oh, that damn boy at school kept picking on him and this time, Patrick just snapped."
The young girl, with fiery red hair like her mother, sat down on the couch. "Well that kid won't give up. He's so mean to Pat. It's crazy, mom. He just gets some kind of kick out of it."
"Have you ever done anything about it?"
Claire raised an eyebrow, "Why?"
"Because every time I try and help Pat, he just tells me to stay back, he doesn't want me getting hurt."
Claire smiled. In so many ways, her to children mirrored Chris and herself when they were in their youth. Being 37, most of her past was forgotten due to the fact that it wasn't all that great to remember. Raccoon, Rockfort and everything after that had haunted her.
Yet one memory lingered on her brain like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe…
It had been eleven years since she had seen his menacing face.
And she could never want him more than she did these days.
He left her.
Not because of a fight.
Not because she wasn't the one.
Claire knew, deep in her heart, Wesker left her to protect her. The world was stacked against him, yet he continued to fight. Although his cause wasn't as helpful as he might have thought, Wesker turned out alright in the end… and the end came much too fast for them. It was a twist of fate that had brought them together and a twist of fate that had separated them. Wesker was now a shadow that ran away with Claire Redfield's heart and never returned.
"I'm gonna go talk to your brother,"
Claire knocked on Patrick's door, hoping that he would at least say something to her. The door creaked open a bit and a hazel eye gazed up at her.
"Honey, can I come in?"
"I guess so…" He opened the door and stepped aside, shutting it behind her.
Claire sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to her. Patrick sat and avoided her gaze, staring out of the window.
"Patrick, I didn't mean to upset you… I just don't want you to get hurt. I hope you understand, honey. I'm not trying to make you mad; I'm just trying to protect you." She hugged her son, "Just like you try to protect Kaya. I just want you to be safe, and fighting is the last thing I want you to do!"
He squirmed out of her hug and crossed his scrawny arms. "Mom… I can take care of myself."
Claire laughed and ruffled his blonde hair that fell just above his ears, spiked in the front. "I know you can, Patrick."
"Why do you always look at me like that, mom?"
A bolt of sadness flew through her, and she knew she must confess. "You just remind me so much of your father. That's all."
"Oh… was he a good man, mom?"
"He was a great man, Patrick."
"Then if he's so great, why doesn't he come home?" the boy said sadly.
"I don't know." And this was true; Claire did not know when Wesker would return. She didn't know if he was even alive still. Given the situation she left him in, he could be buried in one hell of a shallow grave. If he was still out there somewhere, diligently typing away on his laptop, creating viruses, causing havoc… then eventually, and Claire knew, something would lead him back home. But until then, she survived; little by little she reclaimed what she had lost to him even if that reclamation was too small to fully remember. She was scared of what was ahead, and at times she would consider giving up… but then she would remember what she was fighting for. Claire fought for a perfect existence for her and her children. No plague would befall her family because of bad blood, and even though at times, there was nowhere to run, the escape route was right in front of them and she would hear Wesker's voice in her ear… 'Hold onto what you believe, Dearheart.'
He, at one time, had told her as such, and after that day, less and less of her was afraid to confront him. To tell him that he was wrong, and more importantly, remind him that she cared.
"Is he a coward, mom?"
Claire shook her head, "He was the bravest man I had ever met, honey. Nothing could hold your dad back."
"Nothing?" Patrick asked curiously.
"Nope! Not even the American Government."
"Whoa… why did he fight so hard?"
"He fought for what he believed in, just like me and Uncle Chris. But your dad had different ideas of world peace… he thought that all the people of the world needed to be erased so he could start fresh, but that wouldn't work…"
"You can't just kill everybody like that, mom." Patrick said softly.
"I know… but Wesker, your father, would have done whatever it took to succeed. He never quit, even when he was told to step down, he would step up and destroy the competition."
Patrick hopped off the bed and grabbed a comic book from his shelf, walking back over he sat the book down on Claire's lap, flipping open to the first page. "He's like Superman… right, mom?"
"Something like that," She responded flatly. "He's no superhero though, Patrick. He was just one man with one idea that carried him away from his family."
"Will he ever come home, mom?"
Claire shook her head and placed a hand on the back of her son's neck, brining him in for a hug that was well deserved. "I don't think so."
A/N: So, like ATTWN, this has a short first chapter (or intro, whatever you wish to call it) and as things get deeper, the chaps will get longer. As for now, I leave you with this fine work. NOTE: Kids are really hard to write because, I'm not too fond of kids AND, I'm an antisocial teenager. So, I went out on a limb here. My littlest sister is 11 so I'm kind of basing her as a template for the twins. Attitude wise, Trinity (my sister) is a freaking brat (aren't they all) but she's also still a kid and kids tend to do all of the same things at that age. ANYWAYS, enough of my rant, I leave you now.