What have I become, my sweetest friend?

Everything I know goes away in the end

And you could have it all, my empire of dirt

I will let you down, I will make you hurt

Rebecca suggested that Sherry have visitors a few at a time so that she wouldn't get overwhelmed. Claire and Leon went first, as they were the closest thing to family Sherry had. Chris and Jill followed, and Rebecca stuck around to make sure that Sherry was still feeling fine. When it was finally Jake's turn, he paused outside the doorway and considered turning around again. But he hadn't come this far to back down at the last second.

Without further delaying the inevitable, he rapped his knuckles on the door and stepped into the guest bedroom. Sherry was sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking just as perfect as Jake remembered. She smiled and ducked her head, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Claire told me that you were here, but I almost didn't believe it," she started. Jake had expected her to jump up and give him a hug, or something as equally expressive. When she remained sitting, he took a position on the opposite wall and jammed his hands in his pockets.

"Is it so hard to believe? You were missing."

"I'm just surprised that you flew around the world just because I might need help."

"Because of how things were left between us?" Jake responded testily. "My feelings haven't changed, Sherry, even if yours have."

She gnawed on her bottom lip, avoiding looking directly into his eyes and looking at the wall instead. The seconds ticked by like hours, the weight of the silence making the room feel insufferable.

"I felt really bad about how we left it," she said finally. "I still do. I just couldn't allow myself to become emotionally invested in someone so…"

She held up her hands in exasperation. Jake turned to stare out the window, watching the sunlight glinting off the snow. It was prettier here than Edonia—the snow was pristine white, covering everything with a blanket of shimmering fluff.

"So that's what this is about, then? Me, who I am, who my father was?" he asked, turning back to face her. "Funny, I seem to recall you giving me a whole speech about how I shouldn't be standing in my father's shadow."

Sherry stood up in frustration. "That's only part of it, Jake. You don't know what it's like to be surrounded by survivors of Raccoon City—"

"Sure I do, I've spend the last day with them, and they've been treating me a hell of a lot better than you are."

She was taken aback by his response and the fire behind his eyes. He stepped back, resuming his position against the wall. Don't want to appear too threatening and scare her off, now.

"We live very different lives," Sherry attempted weakly. "It isn't easy for me to…to open myself up at the thought of a functional relationship. I haven't been with…anyone since you, nor have I wanted to."

"You don't have to convince me of your fidelity, Sherry. We spent the night together, having what I thought was a great fucking time—pun intended. But you made it clear that that was it. You went your way, I went mine. I don't know why I thought that you were still carrying a torch for me. My mistake."

He stormed out of the room before he broke something, charging down the stairs and yanking his boots on. Claire was calling out to him, something about Sherry and food, but he ignored her and charged outside into the cold. It felt like his blood was boiling, so the frigid wind was a welcome relief. He felt like an idiot for spending the past year pining over a woman who couldn't care less about him, it would seem.

Tears stung his eyes as he pressed onward, turning his collar up against the chill and wanting nothing more than to slam his fist into something. He had abandoned a fifty-million-dollar payday and gotten on the Redfield's good side, only to be rejected by the one person in the world he thought cared about him. The pain and rejection felt like a vice around his heart punishing him for having the audacity to hope. It was almost a welcome relief when he was suddenly knocked to the ground.

It took a moment for Jake to register what had happened and why he was staring at the sky. He coughed, slamming his fist against his chest until he managed to breathe again.

"OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod," a woman was in practically in tears beside him, her face hidden behind her hands. "Please don't be dead."

"I'm not dead," Jake wheezed, rising onto his forearms. "I don't think I'm even hurt."

"Oh, thank God. I think I'm having a heart attack…I am so, so sorry. Please don't sue me; I have nothing but a shitty minivan to my name—"

Jake held up a hand to silence her, checking the back of his head for blood before sitting up fully. He glanced at the woman, then to her shitty minivan.

"I'm not gonna sue you," he said reassuringly, freezing as she threw her arms around him and started thanking God again.

"I swear, I didn't see you walking. You came out of nowhere, and I just slammed the brakes, but…oh, Christ I'll never forget that sound."

"Calm down. I've lived through a lot worse than a bump from a shitty van."

A baby started to cry from the vehicle, and the woman jumped up to tend to her child. Jake managed to get to his feet, wincing at his aching elbows. He turned and looked down the street he had been charging down, realizing that he didn't recognize his surroundings. He had no idea if he was still on Claire's street.

"Is this still Dixon Street?" he asked as the woman carried her little girl towards the house.

"No, this is Fillmore, which branches off from Dixon. There's a fork in the road—left keeps you on Dixon, right takes you here," she explained. "Can I get you something? A glass of water or a beer or something?"

Jake refused with a wave of his hand, debating about which direction he should go. He didn't want to see Sherry, or anyone else for the next few hours, so he chose to keep heading down Fillmore.

"I'm really sorry about hitting you with my car," she called after him. He didn't bother with a response.

The town Claire chose to settle down in was small and quaint, with a main street that seemed to house all of the attractions. Jake passed by a small movie theater, a diner, and an Italian Restaurant before coming across a bar. He was hungry and felt the need to take the edge off, so he headed inside and snagged a two-top.

"Getcha anything?" the waitress asked, batting her lashes.

"Rum and Coke, easy on the Coke," Jake replied. The girl looked like she still belonged in high school, but the other patrons had no problem eying her booty shorts as she walked by. He flipped through their menu and ordered a charred burger and fries when the girl returned.

"Great choice. Anything else, cutie?" she said with a wink. He glanced at her name tag.

"That'll be all, Chrissy."

She reminded him of Sherry—blonde, blue eyes, and a great body. The only difference was that Chrissy at least feigned interest in him.

He chastised himself for thinking about her, shifting his attention to the other patrons instead. A few barflies occupied the stools closest to the bartender, drowning their sorrows in large mugs of beer or glasses of amber liquor.

Chrissy returned with his drink and settled into the seat across from him.

"You new in town, or just passing through?" she asked, popping her gum.

"Neither," Jake replied, taking a sip of his rum and Coke.

"Liar, liar. It's a small town, honey. Everybody knows everybody."

"Is that so?"

Chrissy merely grinned. "Go on, test me. Who are you visiting?"

Jake leaned back, not eager to play any games. He couldn't deny that the attention felt good; God knows it had been an eternity since he had gotten any. And if Sherry wasn't interested in making amends, then maybe he ought to give Chrissy a chance.

"Claire," he said finally, nursing his drink.

"Hm…no last name?" Chrissy asked with a smirk.

"I thought you wanted me to test you?"

"Alright," she agreed. "We have Claire Holmes, who's like, ninety. Unless you're her grandson, that's unlikely. Then there's Claire St. James, who is seven. That leaves Claire Redfield, Ms. Mysterious herself."

"That was hardly a challenge."

"So, I'm right? How do you know her?"

"A mutual…acquaintance," Jake said, unable to call Sherry a friend.

"Do you know her brother, Chris?"

"Yeah, we actually worked together not long ago."

Chrissy leaned over the table, her cleavage practically spilling out of her top. Jake couldn't help but take a peek.

"Are you, like, a secret government agent like he is?" she whispered. Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

Chrissy bit her lip and looked away before jumping up to grab his burger from the counter. She placed it on the table between them and stole one of his fries.

"That is so cool," she breathed. "What kind of stuff have you done?"

Jake chewed and swallowed his fry before answering. "Mostly saving the world. But you didn't hear it from me," he said with a wink.

One of the barflies was waving Chrissy down, cutting their conversation short. She pressed her lips to Jake's ear and told him her shift ended at seven before licking his earlobe. She didn't wait for a response before sashaying over to her other customers. Jake glanced at his watch, realizing he'd only have to kill an hour if he was looking to get lucky.

He polished off his burger and fries, leaving money on the table before stepping out into the cold evening air. He walked around Main Street, stopping near the Italian restaurant to check his phone. Surprisingly, he had numerous texts from almost everyone back at Claire's house. He ignored the ones from Sherry, checking what Chris had to say instead.

Sherry's really upset. Please call her.

Jake checked the ones from Claire, but they were more of the same just with more emojis. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the messages from Sherry.

Jake, I'm sorry.

I still want us to be friends.

Can you please answer me?

Jake?

Against his better judgment, he called her. She answered immediately, as though her phone was already in her hand.

"Jake, thank God, I was starting to get worried," she sighed.

"Were you?" he snorted, his stoicism rearing its ugly head again.

"I thought that you might be at the airport or something."

He was mad at himself for not thinking of that himself, but he wasn't about to admit it.

"Look, I just don't understand. If you don't have any interest in being with me, then just come out and say it. And if that's the case, you really need to work on your social skills, because that was not the vibe I was getting back at the BSAA base."

Sherry paused and was silent for so long Jake thought the call might have disconnected.

"The truth is…that I care about you. A lot. So much so that it terrifies me," she answered finally.

Jake dropped onto a bench and let out a sigh. "Because of who I am?"

"No, not really. Both of our fathers did terrible things, but that has nothing to do with either of us. I just…it's all so intimidating, the thought of starting a relationship with someone like you."

"Meaning..?"

"A survivor," Sherry clarified. "Someone I've been through so much with. Everything that happened with Simmons, us getting locked up for half a year…the only thing that kept me from losing it back then was you."

"Is it too much like your relationship with Kennedy or the Redfields?" Jake questioned, spotting Chrissy exiting the bar down the road. He rose from the bench and ducked into the vestibule of the Italian Restaurant, hoping she wouldn't spot him.

"A little," Sherry admitted. "But because you and I are closer in age, it isn't so…clear. I feel really weird talking about this over the phone. Can I meet you somewhere?"

Jake glanced around the corner and spotted Chrissy milling around, seeming to be looking for someone.

"I'm at the Italian place downtown," he told Sherry, pulling the door open. "I'll get us a table."

"I'll be there soon. Thanks."

The maître de whisked Jake to a table towards the back of the restaurant, poured some ice water and handed him a menu. He wasn't hungry, but he ordered some soup so he could warm up a bit. While he was waiting for Sherry, he spotted the woman who had hit him with her car earlier. She spotted him at the same time, and a look of panic replaced the smile that had been on her face.

Jake nodded towards her, hoping to look reassuring and not like a psycho-stalker. She made her way over to him and wrung her hands together.

"I'm not following you," he assured her. "This is just a coincidence."

"Oh, I didn't think…okay, I sort of thought you might be after me. Are you still feeling okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm built like a tank. I just needed to meet someone, and I happened to stop in here. Is the soup good?"

"Yes, especially when it's cold like this. Can I get you anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks…uh?"

"Karen."

"I'm Jake. Hey, uh, since you're here, do you know a girl named Chrissy who works at the bar a couple doors down?" Karen pursed her lips and gave him a curt nod. "I was over there before and she was coming on a bit strong. Is that her way of getting extra tips?"

Karen glanced behind her to make sure no one was trying to get her attention before she took the seat across from Jake. "Yes, she does that with everyone. Then she has her attorney father file sexual harassment lawsuits against every man who even looks at her with desire in his eyes," she whispered.

"Well, shit. Good thing I have some sense."

"She's underage, too. I don't know why her father goes along with her schemes, but they've bilked practically every decent man in this town. My ex-husband included."

"Damn, I'm sorry." Jake leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. He was about to walk into something that would have destroyed all the work her had done to repair his good name after detaching himself from the legacy of Albert Wesker.

"We were already separated when she stuck her tongue down his throat. He was depressed and she took advantage of that. Fast-forward to him living in a men's shelter because that bastard took him for every dime he had," Karen wiped away a tear and stood up, smoothing down her apron.

"That fucking sucks. I'm really sorry she did that to you," Jake said earnestly.

"When I hit you with my car, I could just see the same thing happening to me. You have no idea how grateful I am for you not suing me."

Jake chuckled and drank some water before saying, "I wasn't exactly looking where I was going. It could have happened to anyone, and I wouldn't try to hurt them neither."

"Thank you, Jake. Really. I'll come back when your friend arrives and take their order, 'kay?" Karen offered with a smile.

"Great, thanks."