Chapter Text
File #1
March, 2006
Yesterday I celebrated my first birthday out of custody. It wasn’t really different from the others ... I think… the only difference is this year I got a hair cut. Claire told me it was a radical change ... I wonder if this means she didn’t like it. Nevertheless It is increasingly strange to live with humans….When I was under Simmons custody and mostly on the laboratory, I was able to look at all those scientists from a certain distance. They were the humans and I was the non-human (or the no longer human). However, after spending my last 90 days of liberty with Claire, I started to experience new found desires I hadn’t had in a long time, such as the need to choose my own clothes ... Am I still not human? The only thing I know is that I feel the virus in my blood.… It’s still there… it will always be….
S. Birkin
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The door to the small apartment shuddered with constant attempts to hit the keyhole. Claire was home. Sherry didn't move on her bed, this was a scene she knew by heart. She heard it far to often . For a few minutes the door was pushed, the key brushed the latch and after some insistence the lock was open . The smell of alcohol drifted through the apartment to the bedroom and, at last, Sherry heard the sound of Claire's body plummet to the bed. She could get out of her room now.
At dawns like this, Sherry had a hobby of her own: cataloging the items Claire left in the hallway of the apartment they shared. Sometimes she found cans, other times telephones numbers written down on tiny papers, clothes, helmets, and the usual, the motorcycle keys and a lighter. But Sherry never touched anything, the goal was always to close the front door, usually left unlocked by her very drunk roommate. It was still strange to think they were actually living under the same roof.
With the front door securely locked, Sherry started to head back. On her way she spotted the door to Claire’s room slightly open. Through the breach it was possible to see the auburn haired girl lying face down on her own bed, no clothes on. The older girl wasn't one to forget to close her door when she was drunk. Sherry assummed she wanted to keep her relationship with alcohol private. But Sherry was only five small steps away to be able to see the sleeping body ahead better, so she walked that lengh entering the bedroom to count all the scars on the other girl’s back mentally. This close, the low light was no longer a problem for the sight. How many of these marks were a result of their first meeting? By the way Claire rode her bike, it would be difficult to blame it all on Umbrella.
The only image Sherry had ever seen naked before this night was her own. She had never seen Claire (or anyone else) without any clothes. She looked away setting her eyes on the floor for a few long minutes. It was then that she decided to remove her own pajamas. The piece was a gift from Leon for her birthday. Leon had been the only other human being besides Claire to be present at the time. Finally, Sherry took off her panties and felt the cold breeze coming through the window. She turned her eyes back to Claire. From there, the smell of alcohol was even stronger.
Sherry laid down in the empty space on the bed. The sheets scattered around did not quite warm her body. But sleeping in the cold had never been a problem, the laboratory was always freezing. Gradually, the world closed and Sherry also fell asleep beside Claire. The two naked bodies separated only by the favorable space that every double bed has.
File #1 -
Footnote:
Humans are not just scientists, after all. Or perhaps, the scars that descend and rise with each breath Claire takes are also an indication that she too has the G-virus inside her, hidden behind an incomplete healing process.
S.Birkin