Chapter Text
20:03 Jill- have fun :)
20:04 Jill - tell Barry I said hi
20:30 Jill - how are the new recruits looking?
Jill sighs as she launches her phone down on the desk. She feels pathetic looking down at the conversion. She texted Claire multiple times in a row, expecting a response, or merely demanding one, while Claire probably was enjoying herself at the Terrasave newcomers’ party. To be completely fair, it's not Claire's usual behavior to not respond.
Jill tried to ground herself. Walking in the bathroom, she turned on the faucet of the off-white sink. She watched the water flowing in and filling the container to the brim. Listen to the excess water escaping through the overflow hole. Her hand brought the cold liquid to her neck while she kept staring at the mirror. Her blonde hair was showing again, and Claire's absence suddenly felt ten times heavier. But Claire deserved a night off from Jill duties.
Jill duties.
After she was released from the BSAA facility it was rather flagrant that she couldn’t take care of herself. Weaker than she ever was, both physically and mentally. She ended up needing help for most daily tasks, Claire never complained, but she knew how much her “death” weighed on her. How Claire was erasing herself to respond to her needs, console her during the long night where she couldn’t sleep, the long nights were in reality neither of them could sleep. Jill duty or the impending guilt that was crushing her when she saw the women she loved taking care of her, when Claire herself had dark bags under her eyes. Both were haunted by their separation. Jill never expected to go back to who she was before, and she can't help but wonder if she ever did go back to her old self. The mental control had left scars that couldn’t be erased and the mark on her chest was a daily reminder.
Jill watched the spiral of water escaping from the sink as she drained it. She grabbed a towel to dry her neck.
Their relationship never did go back to what it was before, and she doesn't think it ever will. She learned from the Spencer mansion that it’s better to move on, not to think about what was lost. It had gotten better, as Jill regained independence. They shared things again, shared dates, shared kisses, shared laugh, shared baths, but the guilt either of them felt never truly went away. The guilt of knowing Claire had to mourn her, the guilt Jill 's absence left, and the guilt of not having searched for her, of having given up. All their projects left hanging for a future that never came, a future they could have had. Claire never expressed it once, and Jill wasn’t the type to bring her personal feelings to the conversation. So, the unsaid remained exactly that, heavy in the silence, heavy in the guilt that Jill carried each day, thinking Claire deserved better than a shell of what she used to be.
Jill looked down at the small screen again, and she couldn’t help but to feel her heart drop when she saw no answer to her messages. Maybe Claire was busy. Maybe Claire was enjoying herself. Or maybe Claire had finally realized she deserved to live without the mess of a person she was. She tried to push that last feeling down, to take a deep breath and not imagine the worst. She opened Claire’s contact again and typed it out slowly.
21:30 Jill - have fun but don’t speed on your bike on the way back.
Lighthearted. Not needy. Not preoccupied. She typed quickly, wondering if it would be enough for Claire not to worry about her, but still to respond.
The phone never buzzed and minutes started to feel like hours, when Jill couldn’t shake the fact, something was wrong. Perhaps the last shred of her mental clarity was finally getting the best of her. That's what she symbolizes when she thinks of herself as an empty shell. A shell of vacant thought that can never be truly controlled. Wesker's mind control has stripped her of any inner control, leaving her thoughts to go round in circles until Claire came along and helped her. Has Claire finally grown tired of her ? Maybe. She couldn’t blame her. Moping in her disquietude, she slowly laid onto their bed, the distinct amber cherry perfume of Claire engulfing her senses. Her heart beating rapidly, the rhythmical sound clouding her audition. A single tear ran down her eye. As midnight struck and there was still no message, worry replaced the guilt she had felt. All prideful senses that had remained were thrown out when Jill reached for her phone again.
00:03 Jill - claire where are you, I’m worried
00:16 Jill - claire I’m sorry I know you’re probably having fun but I’m worried, please respond
She finally dialed Claire's number. The line connected, and died. No ring, just silence, then the hollow click of voicemail. She dialed again. And again. Each unanswered tone like a stab through her chest, the ripples spreading outward until they reached something she didn't want to name. Her thumb hovered over the screen. She could feel her own pulse in her fingertips. She was terrified, for what silence from someone like her usually meant. Claire didn't go quiet. She didn't disappear. And if she had…
A raw, slaggering pain. Her heart was grasping in her chest. A familiar feeling, her hollow scar gushed in pain. The P30 hadn't left a wound you could not stitch. She had pulled a gun on Chris. She had meant it. She had stood beside Wesker like she belonged there, and some small part of her had never fully forgotten what that felt like. She pressed her fist against her sternum and breathed.
Then she grabbed her boots. Her jacket. She moved before the fear could finish forming itself, because that was the only way she knew how to do this. TerraSave wasn't far. She had a direction. Everything else could wait until she got there.Her mind was steadily quietening for once. The satisfying sensation of being driven by a sense of purpose and a clearly defined objective. She needed to find Claire.
Claire.
Finding Claire.
There was something almost soothing about the adrenaline pumping through her veins, drowning out every lingering doubt. Drowning every sting and cramps. Drowning every last reminder of what she had possibly lost. Acting was her way of dealing with it all. Being in control.
Control.
She was in control.
The Terrasave headquarters was surrounded by various vehicles. Some police wagons were parked on the side, blocking the road. The blue and red lighting the old building.
As she looked around at the all familiar scene of chaos, the stinging sensation in her chest returned. She brought her hand and squeezed tightly around her chest. She knew it was psychosomatic. That didn't make it feel any better, though. In fact, the anger that fueled her probably made it worse. She would never survive if something happened to Claire. She could never forgive herself. She stayed there for an instant. The police squad now surrounded the building. Her phone starts ringing. She answered almost immediately, seeing Barry’s number.
“Barry, where is Claire,” She asked immediately. A police officer was running alongside her, almost shoving her out of the way. More cars started pulling up further down the road. “What the fuck happened here.”
“Jill….I” Barry didn’t answer right away, an awkward silence stretching out for what felt like minutes before he blurred out in deep voice “I am so sorry she was taken.”
She wasn’t sure how she could describe what happened to her right here. Her chest was burning in anger, in pure rage of the mere thought someone had done something to Claire. The flood of tears reached her eyes, and without the force to repress them, flooded freely on her face.
Claire.
Where was she?
“Are you fucking with me?” She knew he wasn’t. Barry would never.
“They took Moira too...”
She forced herself to breathe, taking a few steps in a circle around her car. Anger wouldn't do anything to get them right now . “When,” she said, her voice lower now, steadier in a way that didn’t feel natural. “When did this happen?”
“During the event. It was fast. Organized. They knew exactly what they were doing.”
Of course they did. This wasn’t random. Nothing ever was anymore. “They targeted them,” she murmured. It wasn’t a question.
Barry hesitated. That was answer enough. “Listen Jill. I’ll find them. I will. I promise. Let me take care of this. ”
Oh, if only promises meant anything in this line of work.