Work Text:
Claire came home from school, the house was quiet. Usually, someone would be moving around in the kitchen at this hour, or the TV would be playing in the living room, but that afternoon their parents were still at work. The only thing on the table was a short note from their mother:
Dinner is in the fridge. We’ll be home later. Don’t fight.
Claire read it twice, then snorted under her breath. As if Mom really needed to remind them of something like that.
She slipped her backpack off her shoulder and left it by the stairs. For a moment, she stood there without moving, frowning. She was holding her history and art notebook. On the first page, written in large letters, was the homework assignment: “Draw your family crest. Think about what symbols best represent your family and explain what they mean.”
Claire thought the assignment was great. Right up until she actually had to do it.
She sat down at the table and opened her notebook. She drew a rectangle. She frowned. She erased it. She tried again. This time, she made something that looked more like a shield, but it resembled an upside-down pot more than anything else. She erased that too.
“Damn it.” she muttered under her breath, even though she knew that if Mom had heard her, she’d have immediately told her off.
She glanced toward the stairs. From upstairs came the familiar sound of things being moved around. Chris was in his room. He was probably doing homework or putting together some model that would later end up scattered all over his desk. Claire wondered for a moment whether she should bother him. Chris was fifteen, and lately he had been saying I have more important things to do far too often. Claire found it extremely annoying, especially since half of those more important things consisted of sitting with his nose buried in a book or playing video games.
Still, she got up.
She ran upstairs and knocked on his door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened it.
Chris was sitting at his desk. An open textbook, several sheets of paper, and a pencil he was turning between his fingers were spread out in front of him. When he saw Claire, he looked up.
“What?”
“I need help.”
Chris narrowed his eyes.
“With what?”
Claire walked over and placed her notebook on his desk.
“I have to draw a family crest.”
Chris looked at the page, then at her.
“And?”
“I don’t know what to draw on it.”
“Draw the family.”
“That’s not a crest.”
“You could draw four sticks with heads.”
Claire gave him an offended look.
“Chris.”
“I’m kidding.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I know.”
For a moment, they stared at each other in silence. Finally, Chris moved his textbook aside and pointed at the chair.
“Fine. Sit down.”
Claire immediately brightened. She sat beside him and pulled the notebook closer. Chris picked up his pencil.
“First, we have to figure out what it’s supposed to represent.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s important to our family?”
Claire thought about it seriously, as if the question concerned something much bigger than a homework assignment.
“Food.”
Chris snorted.
“We’re not putting pizza on the family crest.”
“Why not?”
“Because then everyone will think we’re a family that only eats pizza.”
“Aren’t we?”
“No.”
Claire gave him a suspicious look.
“Last week, you ate half a pizza by yourself.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re the Pizza Family.”
“We could be.”
Chris shook his head, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Fine. Pizza is out.”
He wrote across the middle of the page: THE REDFIELD FAMILY CREST.
Underneath it, he made several empty spaces.
“Maybe something that represents courage?”
“A lion.”
“Why a lion?”
“Because it’s brave.”
“True.”
Chris drew a small lion in the corner. Claire leaned over the page.
“But our lion looks like a dog.”
“It’s a sketch.”
“It looks like a dog.”
“Claire.”
“Maybe a sad dog.”
Chris sighed.
“Fine. You draw the lion.”
“I can’t.”
“That’s why mine is better.”
Claire reached out and moved his pencil aside.
“I don’t want a lion.”
“You wanted one a second ago.”
“I don’t anymore.”
“Why?”
“Everyone has lions.”
Chris thought about it. He had to admit, she had a point.
“Fine. Something else.”
Claire started tapping her finger against the table.
“A wolf.”
“Why a wolf?”
“Because it’s strong.”
“That could work.”
“And it lives in a pack.”
Chris looked at her with interest.
“That actually fits.”
He drew a wolf instead of the lion.
“What else?”
Claire rested her chin in her hands.
“A tree.”
“A tree?”
“Family is like a tree.”
Chris stopped drawing for a moment.
“Where’d you get that from?”
“Mrs. Carter said families have roots.”
“Ah.”
Chris drew a tree beside the wolf. This time, he didn’t make a joke about the idea.
“The roots could represent the people who came before us,” he said. “And the branches could represent the people who come after.”
Claire studied the drawing.
“And we’re the branches?”
“I guess so.”
“Which branch are you?”
“The bigger one.”
Claire immediately scrunched up her nose.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m a big branch too.”
“You’re nine.”
“So?”
“Nothing. Just…”
“I’m important.”
Chris looked at her. This time, he answered without joking.
“I know.”
Claire was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled and moved closer to the notebook.
“We can draw two branches.”
“Two?”
“One for me and one for you.”
“What about Mom and Dad?”
“They’ll be the roots.”
Chris nodded.
“Okay.”
For the next few minutes, they worked in silence. Chris drew while Claire decided what should go on the crest. Every now and then, they got into small arguments.
“Add a sword.”
“Why?”
“Because it looks cool.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It is.”
“No.”
“Chris.”
“We’re not drawing a sword just because it looks cool.”
“Then draw a shield.”
“The whole crest is on a shield.”
“Then another shield.”
“Why?”
“To protect the first one.”
Chris stared at her in disbelief.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Claire.”
“Chris.”
For a moment, neither of them was willing to give in. Finally, Chris sighed and drew a small shield.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
“Great.”
“Can we add a key?”
“A key?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Claire thought about it.
“Because a home is like a key.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Because it opens the door.”
“The key opens the door.”
“Exactly.”
Chris closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he was trying to gather every bit of patience he had.
“Fine. A key.”
He drew one at the bottom of the shield.
“And what does it mean?”
Claire thought about it for a little longer.
“That we can always come home.”
Chris stopped moving his pencil. He looked at her, but this time he didn’t comment.
“That’s good,” he said eventually.
Claire smiled brightly.
“I knew it.”
“Don’t ruin the moment.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re ruining it right now.”
Chris leaned over the page and started refining the outlines.
Claire watched him for a moment. Her brother was almost an adult already, or at least that’s how it sometimes felt to her. He was nearly a head and a half taller than her, he went out on his own more often, had his own business, his own friends, and things Claire didn’t always know about. Sometimes it felt like Chris was somewhere far away, even when he was sitting right beside her.
That’s why she liked this assignment. They had been coming up with something together the entire time.
“Chris?”
“Hm?”
“What would fire mean?”
Chris looked at her.
“Fire?”
“Yeah.”
“Warmth?”
“Maybe.”
“Home?”
“Yeah.”
“Family?”
Claire nodded.
“And courage.”
Chris thought about it.
“We can put a small flame in the center of the shield.”
“But not too big.”
“Why?”
“Because then we’d burn everything down.”
Chris laughed quietly.
“True.”
He added the flame. Then Claire had another idea.
“Stars.”
“How many?”
“Two.”
Chris immediately knew what she meant.
“For us?”
“Yeah.”
“Why stars?”
Claire shrugged.
“Because they’re next to each other.”
Chris looked at the two little stars he’d drawn above the shield.
“Could work.”
“Just not too close.”
“Why?”
“Then they’ll look like one.”
Chris smiled to himself.
“All right.”
He moved one of them a little farther away.
“Like this?”
Claire nodded.
“Perfect.”
When they finished, the crest was definitely less elegant than Claire had originally imagined. The shield was slightly crooked. The wolf had one leg bigger than the other. The tree looked like it was growing sideways in the wind. The two stars weren’t even, and the little flame in the middle looked more like a carrot than fire.
Claire was delighted. Chris studied the drawing with the expression of someone who had just completed a very serious project.
“It looks… good.”
“Very good.”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“I’m not.”
Claire took the pencil and wrote REDFIELD in large letters at the bottom of the page. Then she pushed the notebook toward Chris.
“Now you write something.”
“What?”
“A motto.”
“A motto?”
“Every crest has a motto.”
Chris frowned.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Mrs. Carter said so.”
“Of course she did.”
He handed her the pencil.
“You have an idea?”
Claire started thinking.
“Together?”
“That’s not a motto.”
“It could be.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Too short.”
“Then come up with something better.”
Chris leaned back in his chair. He stared at the empty space beneath the crest.
After a moment, he said:
“Always find our way back to each other.”
Claire looked at him.
“That’s good.”
“Too sentimental?”
“No.”
Chris handed her the pencil.
“Write it.”
Claire carefully copied the words beneath the crest. The letters were uneven, but she was trying her best.
ALWAYS FIND OUR WAY BACK TO EACH OTHER.
When she finished, she moved the notebook back and looked at the whole thing.
“Do you think my teacher will like it?”
“If she doesn’t, she has no taste.”
Claire giggled.
“Chris!”
“What?”
“You can’t say that.”
“I can.”
“Mom would say that’s rude.”
“Mom isn’t here.”
“She could come home early.”
They both looked toward the doorway as if expecting their mother to suddenly appear in the hallway. Silence.
Claire burst out laughing. Chris smiled too. A moment later, Claire carefully tore the page from her notebook.
“I’m taking it downstairs.”
“Don’t lose it.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t crease it.”
“I know.”
“And don’t show anyone before you’re finished.”
Claire stopped in the doorway.
“Why?”
Chris shrugged.
“Because it’s our crest.”
Claire looked at the drawing one more time. At the tree that represented their family. At the wolf that symbolized strength. At the shield meant to protect. At the key that represented home. At the flame that stood for warmth and courage. At the two stars that were separate, but still side by side. And at the sentence Chris had come up with.
“Ours.” she repeated quietly.
“Yeah.”
Claire smiled.
“Then tomorrow I’ll tell everyone at school that we came up with it together.”
Chris shook his head.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Then tell them.”
Claire left the room, clutching the notebook to her chest. Chris stayed at his desk. He looked at the other papers, then back at the spot where the drawing had been sitting just moments before. For a moment, he wondered if the motto had been too sentimental. Fifteen was definitely too old to say things like that out loud. But when he heard Claire’s voice downstairs, humming something under her breath, he smiled.
Maybe it wasn’t. A few minutes later, Claire came running back up the stairs.
“Chris!”
“What?”
“I forgot!”
“What?”
She pointed at the notebook.
“We have to sign who came up with the symbols.”
Chris raised an eyebrow.
“We have to?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
Claire handed him the pencil. Chris added his name beneath hers.
Claire Redfield. Chris Redfield.
Claire looked at the names.
“Now it’s really ours.”
Chris nodded.
“Yeah.”
The front door slammed downstairs. They both froze.
“Mom and Dad?” Claire asked.
“Probably.”
Their mother’s voice came from the hallway.
“We’re home!”
Claire immediately hid the notebook behind her back. Chris looked at her, amused.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Claire.”
“I’m not showing them yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to get my grade first.”
Chris nodded.
“Smart.”
“I know.”
“And maybe don’t tell Mom about the pizza.”
Claire frowned.
“Why?”
“Just don’t.”
“Chris…”
“Claire.”
“Mom!” Claire shouted, running toward the stairs. “Chris has something to tell you about the pizza!”
“Traitor!” Chris called after her.
Her laughter echoed through the house as Chris hurried after her, already knowing he was about to have to explain himself for things he hadn’t even done.
On the table in her room, only the sketch of the family crest remained. A little crooked, a little childish, and definitely imperfect. But exactly the way it was supposed to be.