literature

Brother Vicious

Deviation Actions

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Beautiful marble twin staircases spiraled into one, leading patrons and vendors down into the main ballroom. Chandeliers made of fine crystal hung high above the formally dressed attendees, making the room sparkle in bright shimmers of various colors. Several tables were set out for the guests, inviting them to try the many appetizers that were displayed on them. A quartet played soft Baroque pieces from Bach, filling the air with a calm soothing environment. But Claire Redfield's nerves were on high alarm. She gave a small polite smile to a couple who had just happen to meet her gaze. She felt a hand on the small of her back.
“Relax, would you?” whispered Leon Kennedy. “We're here for information. This isn't a lab that we're trying to blow sky high.”
Claire rolled her eyes, but she didn't move away from Leon's touch. “I know,” she said. “I just want to make contact, get the coordinates of the next base, and then leave.”
Leon's hand found hers and he pulled gently, guiding her into a dancing crowd. “It's been what... two months since we've had a break?” he said, putting his hand on her waist keeping the other intertwined with hers. “Besides, it's not often that I get to see you dressed like this.” He pulled away, as though he were letting everyone in the room see how beautiful she was.
“Leon...” she said in embarrassment. It wasn't often that she dressed this way period. She had let her hair down and curled the ends, adding volume to her naturally straight strands. A snug black evening gown with the gold trim, hugged her body, showing off the curves of her hips and waist. It was a simple dress, but the transformation of tomboy Claire into “stunning enchantress” as Leon put it, was beyond description. She wasn't completely pulled into the world of beauty; she pressed her legs together momentarily, finding comfort that her gun was still strapped to her thigh. There was a high slit on the right side of the dress, allowing her easy access to the gun in worst case scenarios.
She thought that Leon cleaned up rather nicely as well. He had kept his dirty blond hair slicked back, and some of the strands had broken free of the hair spray's hold, but Claire wasn't complaining. He decided to match her and wore a white tuxedo, but she also knew he carried his own arsenal of weapons within the white jacket. 'Hope for peace, but prepare for war' was a motto they had to live by nowadays. Even with Umbrella gone, there were new players in the game that wanted their hands on the plans of creating bio weapons. They just never learned...
Claire glanced at her watch. “He's late,” she said in annoyance. Her mind hit a mental wall when she felt Leon move against her, guiding her through a slow waltz. He rested his chin against her forehead, and they moved slowly; she for one was enjoying the closeness of their bodies.
“He'll be here,” he said in reassurance. His eyes met hers, and she could feel her cheeks getting warm. Fighting Umbrella all this time gave her no time to think about normal things like relationships and a future with a husband and kids. She put her hand on his shoulder and followed his lead. If the viral infections didn't exist, if they didn't have to go through unless labs and destroy them, if they didn't always have to be on the run, she thought that Leon would have made a very suitable man to have a future with.
“You do look a lot like Chris,” Leon said.
“That's romantic,” Claire huffed, but she smiled. The thought of her brother also gave her hope and strength.
Leon chuckled, “I've never been one to know what to say to the ladies.” Now that, she couldn't believe.
“Please, you have women gawking at you left and right,” Claire said with a hint of jealousy. It was very easy to see the women who took their time staring at Leon.
“Yeah, well there's only one that I care to have the attention of,” he said smiling, before he pulled her close then gently pushed her away, causing her to twirl, keeping their finger intertwined. The music died down and there was a small wave of applause.
Immediately, a man was by her side when the next song started. “May I have this dance?” he asked in a low voice. She glanced at the man then back to Leon.
He winked at her. “Looks like I'm not the only one that's being favored. I'll grab us some drinks." When Leon's back was turned, the stranger grabbed her hand and led her to a different area of the ballroom before he placed a hand on her waist.
Claire kept her eyes downcast, feeling her natural shyness creep up on her. 'Typical, Claire,' she thought. She could stare a tyrant down, but when it came to men, she had to fight to keep her nerves under control. The man was clearly two heads taller than her, but he moved gracefully. When she gathered up enough courage, she gazed into his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue, but they were cold, unforgiving. A chill shot through her body, but she kept a calm, natural facade. There was something about the man that raised a red flag in her mind.
He smiled, but it seemed unnatural on his handsome face. There was something about his features. They were almost... too perfect. “You're quite the dancer,” he said.
“Thank you,” she responded, forcing a fake smile. “Don't know where it comes from because I don't think my brother can dance.”
He let go of her waist, allowing her fall back, then gently pulled her back into his embrace. “Yes, your brother does have a tendency to dance with death now, doesn't he?”
Claire's eyes widened. Her nerves went on overdrive and felt a wave of panic. How could she have forgotten. “You-!” she started, but was cut off when he proceeded to dip her. He was always very strong; she remembered the last time she was at his mercy. That was years ago. As time went by, she had managed to forget his image, but it was his blue fiery eyes that haunted her. She glared at him when he pulled her back up. “You’re here…”
“Well, I of course would attend such a fascinating spectacle just to see you,”  Vicious said, keeping her close to him.
She couldn't cause a scene in front of all these people; he could kill everyone in the room without a second thought. “What do you want?” she asked firmly.
“It has been what... seven years, Miss Redfield?” he asked as though he was completely oblivious to the panicked state she was in.
“Give or take,” she snarled, attempting to pull free.
He kept a firm hold on her, but surprisingly he was not hurting her. “Your brother has been quite elusive these passed years. And I must say that your 'Anti-Dragon' club has been most impressive lately.”
“You bet your ass, we are,” she said sharply. When she pulled her hand away this time, he used her momentum to turn her around. Now her back was against his chest and his mouth was only inches from her ear.
“I've taken it upon myself,” Vicious continued, moving with the music, “to see exactly how well you have been handling yourselves. And I found it fitting to test you first.” That was a threat. Coming from the power hungry monster, any time she heard test coming from his lips, she knew that he had just raised the stakes. “What are you going to do?” she asked, turning her head slightly, trying to see his face.
He placed his cheek on hers, keeping her from looking at him. “I would advise that you and Leon leave this place immediately, dear heart.”
Claire's mind ran through every possible scenario she could think of that would put these people in danger. The only thing she could think of was that Vicious had released his men into the building. Her eyes scanned over the unsuspecting crowd, trying to see if anything was out of the ordinary. Suddenly, she heard glass breaking above them. One of the chandeliers was plummeting toward a group of women.
“Move!” Claire screamed, breaking free of Vicious’ hold. Many women screamed, and shouts of fear had filled the ballroom. The moment Claire saw that the women had been pushed out of harm's way, Claire reached for her leg holster, her fingers wrapping around her trusted Beretta. She aimed it at Vicious, and she was angered further when he just stood there, inviting her to pull the trigger.
She bet that he didn't think she'd actually fire on him, well surprise for him, she wasn't the same Claire he remembered all those years ago. She fired to kill, but she wasn't stupid enough to think that a lone bullet would be the end of Vicious. She felt enraged when he swiftly stepped to the side, the bullet wising past. She wasn't afraid of him. He could probably kill her the moment she slipped up, but she wanted him to know that he couldn't manipulate or control her.
Several bystanders fled the room when they heard the gunshot, but it was probably for the best that they left. Claire waved the Beretta around, trying to scare the onlookers into running. “Get out of here, now!” she barked. Who knew what all weapons those men had with them.
Vicious watched with amusement as he saw Claire and Leon work together to fend off the mobsters that now stalked them. He found it quite interesting to see Claire pushing people out into the main hall, in hope of saving their lives. He just didn't have the heart to tell her that it was a lost cause. Their deaths were already predestined. “Just run!” she cried, shoving a fear stricken woman away. “Don't look back, just get out of here!” Claire turned a fired at a mobster charging straight for them. She aimed higher, away from the center of mass. With exceptional precision, she took out both eyes of the mobster
Vicious would never say that he admired the female Redfield, but he was rather impressed with the progress she's made over the years. She handled herself better, easily evading the attacks of the mobsters, and she was able to save just about everyone in the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man impaled by a katana by his right hand man... well, almost everyone. Claire Redfield was no longer the kid sister to his enemy at the S.T.A.R.S. team, Chris Redfield. No, she had grown up into quite a striking woman. She was the perfect specimen. He wondered how her older brother would take it now he had officially claimed Claire as a new player in his little game. How he wished he could see Chris' expression, but one can't always get what they want, but he was damn close. He walked out onto the balcony and jumped down to the first floor, waiting for everything to be set in motion.
“Claire!” Leon shouted, pointing behind her. Trusting her partner completely, Claire ducked, feeling the sharp wisp of air just above her head. Several strands of her hair had been cleanly cut, falling down to the blood covered floor.
Leon braced himself as the swordsman pounced on him, bringing his hands up to keep the large blade away from his face. They crashed to the floor, sliding into several tables, knocking down champagne bottles and platters of food. Claire had to act quickly. Reloading her Beretta while running to help Leon, she pointed the gun right at the back of the man’s head and fired two shots. The swordsman went limp and slumped forward. With both of their strength combined, they were able to haul the beast off of Leon. Claire helped him to his feet, but he was covered in green slime and dark colored splotches of blood. “Any of it yours?” Claire asked, keeping her eyes on the Hunters that were now surveying them.
“No,” Leon said in disgust, wiping at the blood that was dripping off of his face. “Could you have waited for me to move out of the way?” he asked jokingly.
Claire smiled, keeping her back against Leon's. “You know better,” she said. Something definitely wasn't right here. Her smiled faded.
She glanced over as a young teenage boy tried crawling away, keeping his face buried in his hands. “No, please!” he cried when he saw the mobsters just a few feet away from him. “I don't want to die! Please!” The boy's hair was matted down in dried blood, giving his natural brown hair a maroon shade. He couldn't have been older than eighteen.
Memories of Rockfort Island came flooding back to Claire. The guilt that she had worked so hard to bury resurfaced, reminding of her failure to save a friend. “Steve...” she barely whispered, taking a step toward the boy.
“Claire, what are you doing?” Leon snapped, when he realized that Claire had broken their formation.
Claire's eyes were on the Mobsters that now teamed together to take down the poor boy. She aimed the Beretta, eyes narrowing in anger. “You get away from him!” she hissed and ran toward them. The gunshots echoed throughout the ballroom as Claire fired round after round. The men screeched in pain, and one fell dead as Claire emptied her clip into it, not caring where the bullets pierced his body.
The last gunman was sprayed with bullets from Leon's Desert Eagle. Except for the young boy's whimpers, the room was deadly silent. Claire looked down at the boy cowering at her feet. Her gaze softened when she realized that he was alive. She couldn't bear to see another Steve die in her arms. She knelt down and rubbed the boys shoulders. “Hey, are you all right?” Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Thank you, miss!” he cried into her shoulder.
Claire let out a huff, exhaling the air she could when she was caught in the bear hug. All she could do was let out a relived laugh. She felt a pinch in her arm as he pulled away. “Ah!” she gasped, seeing a thin trail of blood run down her arm.
“Oh, sorry!” the boy said nervously. He used a clean portion of his shirt to wipe away the trickle. “Must have been one of my cuff links.” He began straightening out his blood stained shirt, but Claire stopped him.
“Get out of here while you can,” she said, standing to her feet. “Just because the only monsters we're seeing right now are dead doesn't mean there aren't more of them around...”
“Thank you, miss,” he said again before he managed to get to feet and stumbled out of the room.
Claire scanned over the large ballroom, but Vicious was nowhere to be found. “Any sign of him?” she asked Leon.
“None... listen,” he said immediately after his answer. “Don't do that again.”
When she gave him a glare, he put up his hands in defense. “I'm not going to pull a Chris on you, but you scared the hell outta me when you didn't stick to the plan.”
Claire could never stay mad at Leon for long. It was the way he looked at her that made her forgive him on a number of occasions. “Come on...” Claire sighed. “How often do we actually stick to the game plan with these guys?”
Leon reached out and brushed some of her hair from her sweaty cheeks. “It's not that. I just know when you're zoning out. Believe me, when you and Chris get into tunnel vision mode, it's pretty scary. What were you thinking? Did you even know there was a third Mobtser right beside you?”
Claire blinked. She looked to the left, close to where the boy had emerged from. A gunman lay dead at the foot of the neighboring table. Freakin hell... She didn't say anything.
Leon nudged her gently. “Hey, I know you're more than capable of handling yourself. Trust me, I think I knew sooner than your brother did. I just... it worries me when you lose focus like that.”
It was one of the few times that Leon ever expressed such concern for her. She partly believed that half of the time he couldn't was because of Chris' overprotective nature that caused Leon to keep his mouth shut. The bond they have developed back in Raccoon City would never break, even if one of them had to be in a different continent for a long period of time because of different missions. Back then, she relied on Leon more than she wanted to let him know.
When they met up again after the destruction of Raccoon City, he had taken the time to teach her how to shoot and how to properly defend herself when Chris was too busy blowing up the different properties that belonged to Umbrella. She even recalled a few times when Leon would just hold her when she couldn't sleep. The nightmares became too real for her, so she had formed a bit of a coffee addiction. It was only when she was in his arms that she found rest, but the monsters in the dark always came back.
Leon made the suggestion to train her while the others were creating several strategies to take Umbrella's main laboratories down. He believed that if she became confident in the real world, then perhaps she could fend off the monsters from her mind. And it worked. The monsters still invaded her dreams, but she wasn't helpless. Their morning conversations always started with Leon asking, “well...?”
And she would answer. “I kicked ass.”
Claire snapped out of her thoughts, noting that Leon still watched her, waiting for an answer. He was always kind to her, and even though Jill and Rebecca made little jokes about them having cute kids, she wanted to keep those ideas out of her head. Until Umbrella was finished, she couldn't be distracted by a future that had no chance of existing. But as of late, she started to believe that as long as corruption and greed lingered in the human heart, they would always be fighting.
She was human, so she allowed herself one moment of weakness. “Thank you,” she said, stepping toward him. “For everything. You have no idea how much everything you've done means to me...” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nestling her forehead against his neck. The warmth and comfort she had relied on over the years returned as he hugged her back.
“Anytime,” he said in her ear. He ran his fingers through her hair as he pulled back. His fingers then traced the outline of her face before resting beneath her chin. “Your brother would kill me, but I think I'll take my chances,” he said, raising her chin up.
Claire smiled, feeling her heart beating faster. It had been so long since she felt the intimate touch of another. She felt comfortable in Leon's arms; she always had. “You would probably have better chances with a tyrant,” she joked, closing her eyes. She felt the tip of his nose, brush past hers, and the moment their lips met.
**************************
Claire stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a pale green towel. She wiped the steam from the small mirror that hung above a white porcelain sink. She began to towel dry her long brown hair. It had been so long since she cut her hair, she figured she was due for a change about a year ago. Rebecca had suggested layers, but Claire didn't mind as long as there was enough length to tie back into a ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror; her pale skin, her six toed hooves, everything was in placed, she did look rather tired, but other than that she felt and looked just fine. The only thing that bothered her was in fact her white skin, her hooves, claws, and teeth. Chris had always told her it was just a birth affect, that strange things like that happen to humans, she had always believed him. Though she had her doubts she trusted her big brother.  Everyone was over reacting. She put on a dull gray turtleneck and knee high socks and jeans.
The moment she exited her room, Chris was by her side. “Did that bastard touch you?” he asked darkly.
Claire tipped her head to the side, and gave her beloved brother a goofy smile. “Come on, do you think he would have gotten away unscathed?” She lifted her hand up and pointed out her index finger, suddenly flicking her wrist up as though she had fired a gun.
“Did you now?” Chris's expression changed surprise with hint of pride.
“Right where his should have been if he had one,” Claire said winking. She relived the moment in her mind. Now in hindsight, that was probably one of the craziest things she's ever done, but that single bullet said everything she wasn't able to say to his face when they last saw each other. She half expected Vicious to grab her by the throat again and throw her around like a helpless puppy. Claire frowned as she thought back earlier in the party. Before she was truly able to get a feel for her “mysterious dance partner”, he had felt... normal. He was graceful, confident, and entirely too bold. There was a part of her that wanted to stand up against him, to show him that the average male couldn't touch her in such a way. But he wasn't the everyday type, now was he? The other part of her wanted to succumb to him. It seemed so easy to.
She was always into the hobbies that most women would turn away from, and it was because of Chris' influence that she grew up the way she did. She never faulted her brother for raising her as he did. In fact, she was extremely grateful. With the exception of Leon, no man had caught her interest. She didn't want a man who was afraid of her. She didn't want a dominating one either. Leon was right in between, and there was no other man that she felt comfortable enough to drop her guard around. He could rough house with her, and still keep her in check, but he could respected her strengths, admitting that he truly would be afraid of her is she ever snapped.
Vicious was the type to just take whatever he wanted. That was a characteristic that was scary yet alluring at the same time. She could still feel his hands on her at times. The touch was entirely different from what she encountered seven years ago.
Chris flicked her forehead. “I asked if you were all right,” he said, apparently repeating himself.
Claire recovered and lightly slapped the back of his head. “Of course, I am. I'm standing here, alive and breathing, aren't I?” she asked with a huff.
The older Redfield put an arm over her shoulders, giving her an encouraging shake. “All right, I believe you. But I do want to ask you about Vicious. Did he tell you anything? Could you pick up anything from him explaining why he decided to show his face all of a sudden?”
“No, he just said he wanted to test me.”
***********************
Claire Redfield lowered her SG 550 at the target and carefully peered down the scope. Vicious’ words rang in her ears: Claire, you can’t right the wrong of the world; you’re too weak. She pulled the trigger and watched as she hit the target in the middle with a short burst of fire. She was getting better. It had been two weeks since her escape from Vicious once he kidnapped her for interrogation for his own safety; and Leon had taught her the basics on assault rifles, with which she had no prior experience. She had been fairly good with her hand-to-hand combat thanks to Chris, but she really was the rookie of the group, and so she worked extra to meet their standards. They had all been trained before the Raccoon outbreak, and Claire had fumbled through on her own.
The training had helped more than anything with her recovery. It made her feel in control again, and she wouldn’t lie; spending enormous amounts of time with Leon had been nice. He was a solid, charming guy, like he had been in Raccoon, but Claire drew the line at friends. She always felt like part of him was holding back, as if there was someone else on his mind. Maybe there was.
Claire reflected on her past relationships. The last boyfriend had been a month before Raccoon. Sam, she recalled and inwardly laughed. He’d been nice, but Chris had threatened to kick the poor guy’s ass after he was caught offering Claire cigarettes. That brother of hers always had her back, and Sam hadn’t been a serious love interest anyway. There had never been anyone serious, and she couldn’t remember one that she found interesting and engaging enough to battle against Chris to keep.
Her mood turned darker as she considered what would have happened to Sam if they’d stayed together and he’d decided to visit Raccoon with her. He’d probably have been eaten…The more she thought about it, the more she realized how difficult having a relationship would be with that threat in the background, and that was probably why so many people involved in anti-Umbrella kept themselves single. Certainly she doubted whether any of her previous boyfriends would have been strong enough to survive or protect her. There had been one man who she might have loved: Steve. Umbrella had taken that from her too.
One day the nightmare will be over. Chris and her would go back to normal jobs and enjoy the holidays, and he and Jill would have cute kids and make her an aunt. The days of always looking over her shoulders for monsters would be over. She lowered her rifle and trudged over to the edge of the range. Several black vehicles had arrived. Vicious had always chosen black vehicles, though he didn’t own one, she recalled, just like his clothing. He frequently came to her mind at the oddest times, whether it was seeing a pack of noodles to someone with sunglasses, but it didn’t bother her. She was used to lingering ghosts from her experiences.
Chris was greeting the men who exited from the vehicles below her vantage point. They must be the US agents, she contemplated. I’d better go see what’s up.
***************
“Do we have a deal or not?” Chris asked the three men sitting across from him and Leon at the table. “It’s a big syndicate, and we could use the help.” He regarded these newcomers with curiosity and caution. Leon had explained how gritty some of the governmental dealings were, and his distrust of the agents’ good intentions had rubbed off on Chris. This was a temporary merger for mutual benefit and nothing more.
“I think it’s a good idea,” one of the men stated. He had brown hair that was graying at the temples and a thick moustache. “But what we’re after is not just blowing up the syndicate. We have reason to believe that a new project is underway. We want to gain the data on whatever they’re working on so that we know what we’re going to be up against in the future. They keep making new deals with the Umbrella corporations for new deals of red eye, and keeping up with them just gets more and more difficult.” Sure, Leon sarcastically thought. He was sure they would go after a samples. The government had more interest in visual stimulaters than just cataloguing them. None of them knew how close Mao Yenrai had come to selling his services to the Pentagon, but they’d seen enough to understand.
“We’re out to kill,” Leon stressed. “If you want samples or data, you get them on your own. We go in together only if destruction of the syndicate is the end goal. Two separate groups will make success more likely.” The man shot Leon a calculating look and a slight smile.
“Leon Kennedy, isn’t it? I’ve heard of you…” The man turned his predatory stance into a shrug. “Two separate groups? I don’t think so. Forgive us, but we don’t know you. I won’t risk being betrayed or left to blow up. You mentioned an experienced agent, we wish for her to complete with my men the task. It would be much safer.” Chris and Leon looked at each other.
“Agreed,” Chris stated. “We plan a mutually timed entrance and exit, but if she’s in a tight spot, she’ll proceed to blow up the syndicate whether or not you have your data. Got it? We’ll give you fair warning so your men can get out safely, but I won’t risk the mission. We’ll have to be in constant communication.”
“The US government appreciates the offer. You can call me Nash,” the man grinned and extended a hand. “We couldn’t do this by ourselves.” Chris and Leon shook his hand and they began planning the mission. Of course, despite the pleasantries, anti-Umbrella had an agenda as separate as the government’s. If possible, the sample/data would be blown up with the rest of the plant, as had been previously decided. The self-destruct system would ensure that. It was simply a matter of moving faster than Nash’s team so that the agents were forced to evacuate without a virus. The question remaining to be settled was who would accompany the other team in the exchange. Chris had given the matter a lot of thought.
“Like I said, I have the perfect member of the team to join you,” Chris said. He led their new allies to a sitting room where the rest of his team was waiting for the details of the mission. “Allow me to introduce Claire Redfield. She’s young, but tough as nails.” Claire stood and spun to greet the newcomers. Chris knew that she would have sense enough to escape on her own if these men didn’t heed his warnings, and she had been beating him with declarations of being ready for action since her return. “She’s been inside multiple Dragon facilities.” Chris waited for her and Nash to shake hands.
Instead they stood and stared at each other with grim expressions.
“A pleasure, Claire,” Nash greeted, but his eyes were cold while his face smiled. “Or should I say Malittia Caeles?” Claire folded her arms while everyone else exchanged glances.
“Malittia Caeles?” Chris began. “Claire, these aren’t the guys that…?”
“Yes they are,” Claire said, deadpan voice. For a moment, no one seemed to know what to say or do. The entire mission hung by a thread.
“With all do respect,” Nash said. “I won’t work with someone I know that I can’t trust. She works for Vicious.” Nash thought he was exposing a horrible truth to Chris’s team, for it was obvious to him that they had no idea she was a double agent.
“I do not!” Claire protested. “He kidnapped me and I was about to go home when you attacked me at the airport.”
“You didn’t seem like a common kidnap victim in the interrogation room,” Nash countered roughly. Even looking at her made the bile rise in his throat. “I lost a lot of good men when that bastard of a man showed up to save you, his former hostage—how interesting.” The evidence did seem damning when put like that, but anti-Dragons knew better. Nash only saw a dangerous bitch in Claire since that incident. The men he had lost…he had been close to him, like brothers.
“Ok, look,” Jill said, coming to the rescue. “Claire is definitely working for our side. Let’s sit down and discuss this before we make a big mistake. There’s more at stake here than a nasty goodbye.” The remainder of the day was spent in tense discussions and explanations that neither side fully wanted to accept. In the end, it was decided that the mission would continue, but Nash had his eyes on Claire Redfield.

*****************
Okay firts off, yes I borrowed the characters from Resident Evil. The only one I own is Malittia, even though right now she thinks she's Claire. Because in my story Chris adopted her now she thinks she's just a misfit in the family. Now Vicious knows that it's his little sister, but as long as she doesn't figure it out he won't say anything. But Kato :iconevecaeles: her character will come in and set her straight, then she will have a long talk with her brother Chris. But, anyway, an odd form of Cowboy Bebop fan-fic. It's a WIP so go easy on me.
© 2008 - 2024 Bebop27
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