Claire was at least coherent enough to recognize that she had been in and out of consciousness for quite some time. The scenery never really changed when she did wake up though. A stark white room, and a bright white light shining down upon her. The voices were usually the same too, sometimes speaking in a rapid language she assumed was Spanish. Although even when they were speaking in clear English, she still had no idea what they were saying. It was as if her brain put everything in slow motion. It felt as if she could move her limbs, but the signal would take so long that by the time she worked up the energy consciousness had left her. It was late one night...she didn't know by the time, but assumed by the absence of doctors, that Claire was finally able to sustain focus.

She moaned slightly as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Each movement seemed like it took a colossal amount of effort. Every single muscle was protesting it's use, but she persevered. Claire's head swam for a moment, blind spots and stars shot through her vision. She blinked a few times, and they went away revealing the picture of the room as she had never seen. Though in a way Claire had seen it, and when this realization dawned on her a whole new set of physical protestations arose. Her breathing became irregular, as her chest heaved, she gasped for air. The room was the exact same as her prison was in the middle east. There was nothing. Nothing to put her at ease, or comfort her. In reality it was a stark white hospital room. Tubes snaked from her arms to monitors and miscellaneous bags filled with varying chemicals. She assumed though, since she didn't feel the same drowning sensation exclusive to the "infection," that she was being treated for her injuries. But injuries sustained when? The memory was still fuzzy to her, but Claire clearly recalled the monster in fairly vivid detail. It frightened her, but not nearly as much as the room itself had.

All of a sudden a spark ignited within her, she wanted nothing more than to be out of the bed with no twisting tubes confining her. Carefully, and with the precision of a surgeon, Claire pulled the tubes from her arms. They fell as pathetic, synthetic vines, lining her bed. Then with her breath held in her chest, she unclamped the miscellaneous monitors from her fingers. After a couple seconds without the rush of doctors she had expected to have been notified at her sudden lack of a heartbeat, she relaxed. It seemed as Claire exhaled that every muscle slowly relaxed, the tension draining from her. The drowning feeling completely gone, her head clear, and her torso feeling only slightly sore. She knew it was probably pushing her physiological abilities to leave the facility, but Claire wasn't necessarily one for compromise. She had a tendency to attempt the unthinkable, which now was leaving the protection of a hospital equivalent facility into the darkness that had left her on the brink of life.

It was then, at the thought of her own mortality on that roof, that she started to remember how she got there. Wesker was on that roof, that night. But how had he gotten there? Claire had initially thought that it was another one of her hallucinations, and throughout her brief moments of lucidity she had continued thinking it was only her on that roof. But that didn't make sense. If no one had come to her rescue, how did she end up here? Claire decided it was presently too much to focus on the memory. Instead she determined her course of action. First, Claire had to figure out where exactly she was. Her initial guess would have been thousands of miles away from the Island, had it not been for the Spanish speaking doctors. From this Claire gleaned that they were still near the Island, probably on the mainland facility. Claire swung her bare feet over the bed. They made contact with the sleek metallic floor and instantly sent a shiver through her. She could tell she had been weakened when she first attempted to stand. Claire swayed dangerously, before being forced to lean heavily on one of the monitoring machines, though she refused to return to the bed out of sheer stubbornness. It took quite some time to steady herself, but when she finally did Claire found a new resolution. A confidence now in her still wavering step Claire walked to the door. It was a great relief to her when it slid soundlessly open, apparently the doctors didn't think her much of a threat. She crept silently into the hallway, her ears pounding as she strained to hear even the most minute sounds. Claire looked through the darkness, but couldn't see a single thing. Not even a silhouette revealed itself to her. Claire was barely daring herself to breathe as she started down one of the branches of the hallway. It was then that a sound was heard that cut through her like the most pleasurable knife. It was the most disturbing relief, the most horribly perfect sound she could have imagined. A soft laugh that Claire knew belonged to him.

"Well, what do we have here? Claire Redfield among the land of the living?" Wesker said, his voice overflowing with a strong sense of condescending arrogance. Claire spun around, still unable to clearly make him out, but that need was spared as the hallway filled with a blinding florescent light. The long hallway was lined with multiple rooms that she suspected were filled with test subjects and the like. It was the same as every other facility she had encountered. Metallic. Cold. No warmth to speak of. The harsh light only added to the gleaming effect. Claire squinted for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the sudden bright light, but then she looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a furious determination.

"What am I doing here?" Claire said, though it was more of an accusation than a question. It was difficult, as if she was forcing the words out. Seeing him, taking it all in at once, was quite the trying experience. She found herself relieved because of his presence, which only served to make her more annoyed and angry with herself. Claire would not look away from his dark red eyes, but in effect she was sparing herself as much as she was appearing confident. For the fraction of a second that her eyes initially took his whole appearance all in she noticed a fresh scar that stemmed from his wrist and worked it's way up his arm. It was in that moment that she felt a heart breaking fear that someone had hurt him. And it was also in that moment that she wished she hadn't.

"You were found...meddling in what you ought not to have been. A creation of mine left you incapacitated. If it was not for my medics actions you would be lying dead on that rooftop." Wesker said this quite bluntly for his usual nature, but that's because something else was on his mind regardless of her throw away question. He had not seen her in the three days since he took her from the rooftop. Wesker had been doing all he could to avoid the wing the she resided in, though he expected bi-daily reports regarding her status. This was the first time he had been close with her since her incarceration, and it was not an easy thing to face. Claire stood before him, a vision of broken perfection, in his mind the only type worth acknowledging. Her face was pale, though her cheeks were flushed with the effort exerted getting from her bed. The red-brown hair tumbling over her shoulders showed a brilliant contrast with her pale skin. The hospital issue plain white gown that reached just above her knees coupled with the fact that she was barefoot gave her an exposed look, however it was her eyes that intrigued him so. Even in her pain they were full of the fierce fire that he had become accustomed, although it never ceased to surprise him how brightly that fire burned.

"Why did your medics take action? I know they do nothing without your command," Claire said slowly, her clever nature still brilliantly intact. He slowly walked towards her, a mixture of anger and affection, love and pure hatred boiled within him. When he was standing not a half a foot from her he stopped. Wesker was overcome with his infatuation, however he knew he could not act on it.

"Quite honestly, my dear, you're fairly good bait for Chris," Wesker said, his manipulation exceeding new bounds. He smiled at her coldly. Wesker wanted to turn, but he seemed fixed on the spot, facing her, looking down into her eyes. Claire returned his gaze, her eyes blazing brightly.

"You let me escape from the facility..." she spoke softly after a moment's pause. Claire tilted her head questioningly, "Why?" It was at this that Wesker was able to break the connection. He spun around and began walking away.

"My tests were completed, there was no need for you anymore."

"Wesker!" Claire exclaimed forcibly, her voice not desperate, not pleading, but it still compelled him to stop. He looked over his shoulder at her, but didn't turn. "You won't walk away from me. You can't." Claire took a few steps forward, towards him. "I won't let you." He laughed softly again and continued walking, the internal war within him waging greater at every step.

"You're nothing to the project any longer, you're around because Chris will come looking. It will just be another Redfield I don't have to worry about."

"You don't have to worry about me, you never had to, but you will anyway." Claire said in the same determined voice. He paused as she continued her advance, "You have always been the greatest facilitator of pain in my life. Umbrella, this whole project, it's been a nightmare." Claire stopped for a second, as if choosing her words very deliberately. Very carefully. "But you have also been my greatest protector. You won't let me fall."

The war wasn't over, but the battle had been won. A part of him had lost, but a much greater part of him had succeeded. Wesker turned to face her again his eyes glowing a deep red. He took a few steps towards her, slowly. And then, in one fluid movement, he grasped the front of her gown and pulled her violently towards him. His lips found her's in the most natural way. As if they had been made, created for this moment. It was electrifying. Claire fell against him, as he held up her entire being. And he, in a similar fashion, fell against her, for a brief moment he was as exposed as she was. The raw emotion evident on his face, though neither of them noticed. Claire's bright eyes closed as did his, as they sunk into passion. She had never felt any pleasurable pain so strong, nor had he ever felt such strong affection. It was a constantly conflicting battle, that for one moment relinquished it's hold on the both of them. One perfect moment. It was, and then it wasn't. When they finally separated Wesker looked down at her, as it finally registered that this was the most exposed he had ever been. It was an unsettling prospect. More unsettling was that with each passing second, more and more of reality dawned on the two of them. Claire remembered Wesker's conviction to kill her brother, and his thirst for world domination, as he remembered she was one of the more formidable enemies in his way. Regardless of this, neither moved. Finally Claire took his hand in her's and he didn't pull away. They stayed. Motionless, as if attempting to preserve that moment in time. Wesker may have even softened...or maybe it was just Claire's imagination.

It was then that the moment was broken. In all of it's perfection the only type worth acknowledging is that that is broken. The destruction came in the form of metallic clicks of stiletto heels. Wesker's mind flashed through a multitude of possibilities. Ada witness this moment and have to be dispatched, lest she destroy him and the project. Or she never witness this exposed moment of tranquility. When she reached the bottom of the stairs the door slide open, which allowed Ada passage. As he looked at Claire his persona changed rapidly. In a moment he was back to his cold distant self, his hand now at his side.

"I heard you located her before I got the chance." Ada spoke as if Claire wasn't even in the room.

"You're inefficiency no doubt." Wesker said smoothly. "Take her to one of the holding cells until Chris surfaces." Ada made advancements towards Claire that were not received kindly.

"You're not taking me anywhere." She said swiftly to Ada, as if dismissing her, though her eyes never left Wesker. It was a clear challenge. A sign of sure insubordination. He barely changed his expression or stance as one of his hands shot up, back handing her...hard. Claire was thrown through the air, she hit the ground painfully. Wesker looked barely effected.

"Do I need to have her sedated for you to follow basic orders? Is she too much for you to handle?" Wesker asked, still directing his attention at Ada. Claire was already on her feet, and looking furiously determined. Ada didn't respond, but took Claire's arm. Claire glared one last time at Wesker before being led out of the hallway.

The door slid closed behind them and Wesker looked down at his hand. Her biggest harmer, and greatest protector. Still.

As Ada led Claire in silence she plotted her escape. Once inside the cell it would be impossible, and Ada had a history of underestimating her opponents. Especially in her current state Ada would be sure to disregard Claire. But Claire was fired on adrenaline and a fierce will. They were walking through another hallway, this one seemed to be more towards the business center of the facility, her window was only a few more minutes. Claire began laboring her breathing, just enough so Ada would notice, without saying anything. Ada knew it was pertinent to keep Claire alive, but didn't wasn't about to show her any leniency. She finally had her chance. They entered a long hallway that stretched around the outside of the building. At the end was a descending staircase to the lower holding cells. However where once side of the hallway was purely dry wall, the other side was made of nothing but windows. In the next second Claire "collapsed" from her injuries. As Ada looked down fearfully, she bent to inspect the victim. It was then that Claire ceased her opportunity. She swept the ground beneath Ada with one leg, and the woman toppled to the ground in a heap of red silk. Claire then delivered a few well places blows and incapacitated Ada on the ground. Ada tried to counter attack, but was too stunned at Claire's agility and new found skill that she hesitated, not wanting to hurt Wesker's prize endorsement. It was in a moment that Claire had discovered the hidden weapon she knew Ada always kept. It was a small pistol, strapped to her upper thigh. Claire took it and proceeded to elbow Ada in the back of the neck, right in the middle of her shoulders, to temporarily paralyze her. While the coveted assassin lie unable to move on the floor, Claire shot through one of the windows. A blaring alarm sliced through the night, but she ignored it. In nothing but a hospital issue gown, Claire made for the window and surveyed her chances. Instead of just jumping and risking injury, Claire lowered herself down using ledges below the windows. However it came a time when there was no other option than to jump. There was security flooding the area and they had already spotted her. It was when she heard one exclaim to another "Call for Wesker! The fifth wing! Tell him!" that she finally let go. Claire landed in a grassy area surrounding one section of the facility. It was painful but she didn't detect any lasting damage. The only lasting damage was the bruise that begun flowering over her cheek, where she could still feel the hand that she had held.