Chapter Text
18 days later - April 19
Drops of rain tapped softly against the window, blurring the view of the city outside. The gray morning light filtered through the curtains, mixing with the quiet hum of a lazy Sunday.
Claire barely noticed the dreary weather, too comfortable in the warmth of Leon’s arms, tangled up in sheets that smelled like him. His body radiated heat against her back, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm.
She shifted slightly, and the movement stirred him. A soft hum left the back of his throat, his hold on her tightening for a brief second before relaxing as he came to his senses.
“Haven't slept like that in years.”
Claire huffed a small laugh, tilting her head just enough for his lips to brush against her temple. “I woke up before you did for once.” She turned slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and he was already looking at her, ocean blue nearly enough to drown her uncertainties.
They had spent the better part of the morning like this— wrapped around each other, comfortable in the silence.
“So…” His voice was raspy, still weighed by a rare eight hour sleep, only interrupted to feed the dog. “You got any plans today?”
She didn't break the moment right away, reveling in his closeness before she had to answer—before she had to acknowledge the parts of her day that didn’t include him.
“Besides this?” she said instead, her lips twitching into a playful smirk.
“I hope you don't,” he teased, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She swallowed the thought and sat up slightly, stretching her arms over her head. “Just some errands,” she finally answered.
Leon’s brows lifted slightly, his hand smoothing over her thigh beneath the covers. “Anything you need help with?”
She hesitated—only for a second—before shaking her head. “It’s fine. Just work stuff and whatnot.”
It was automatic, the way she brushed him off. The unshakeable need to push him away when it came to this. But it wasn’t his burden to carry, was it? Not when his life was already spread so thin. Between missions that dragged him across the world and the responsibilities waiting for him in D.C., his time was never truly his own. And yet, somehow, lately, it was hers.
“And I have a doctor's appointment later,” she added, watching the way his eyes subtly searched hers.
“Oh yeah?” His voice was casual, but there was something unspoken beneath it. If she asked, he would go. She knew that.
But she didn’t ask.
She forced a small shrug, averting her gaze. “It’s just a routine checkup.”
The words felt like an apology. Like she was guilty for keeping him at arm’s length but still too scared to let him any closer.
Leon didn’t press her. He just studied her for a moment longer, then shifted onto his back, rubbing a hand over his face before exhaling deeply.
“Alright,” he said eventually. “Guess I’ll just have to keep myself busy till you’re free again.”
Claire smiled despite herself, leaning down to kiss him—a slow, lingering press of lips, one that said more than she was willing to admit out loud. His presence felt too much like breathing: calming, and increasingly — terrifyingly— necessary.
Rainfall had turned into a gentle drizzle by the time Claire finally peeled herself away from the warmth of the bed. She sat at the edge of the mattress, stretching before running a hand through her hair. His fingers found her back, trailing up and down her spine.
“Call me if you need anything.”
A few years ago he would've asked her to stay. He would've offered to clear his calendar, and Claire would've accepted. She would've crawled back into bed and wouldn't have returned to her place anytime soon.
But, this wasn't the kind of responsibility he could help her ignore.
She stood up and headed to the bathroom, changing from the old shirt of his she'd burrowed to her clothes that sat folded. She grabbed her bag, walking over to him. She leaned down, kissing him again. A reluctant goodbye.
“I'll call you later,” she murmured against his lips.
Leon's fingers brushed along her wrist before giving it a gentle squeeze. “I'll hold you to that.”
One last glance and then she left his bedroom, saying goodbye to Rex on her way out, and then she was by herself.
Two hours later and she was ready. It was just a routine checkup, but the first mention of detecting possible complications had made her head go dizzy with nerves. The only thing worse than worrying about all the ways she could fail was the thought of never getting the chance to try.
She exhaled sharply, shaking the thought from her head as she grabbed her jacket and stepped out into the overcast afternoon. The air was damp from the morning rain, the pavement still slick with puddles. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, heading down the steps toward the car parked at the curb.
She hadn't asked Leon to go with her, but she didn't plan going alone either.
“Thought you were gonna make me come up and drag you out,” Jill teased, turning on the heater.
Claire huffed, climbing in and buckling her seatbelt. “Almost did.”
The parking lot faded out of view, replaced by the rainy streets on the way to the clinic.
“So, any bets on what you're having?” Jill asked, not taking her eyes off the road.
She considered the question for a second, then shook her head. “I don't think I'll find out today.”
“My question still stands. C'mon… Mother's intuition or something.”
Claire smirked slightly, shaking her head. “Hasn't kicked in, I guess.” Her hand traced over her shirt. “I'll be happy with whatever…”
“That's good.” Jill smiled briefly at her. “They'll be a sweet kid either way.”
“Yeah,” Claire whispered, the statement settling into her heart. After a beat she spoke. “What about you?”
“Me? What do I think you're having?”
“Mmh.”
Jill hummed in thought, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “I'm gonna say… a girl.”
Claire shot her a sidelong glance. “You sound pretty sure.”
“Call it veteran intuition.” She grinned.
“And what will that ‘veteran intuition’ be rewarded with if you're right?” Claire asked amusedly. “Ten bucks?”
“Twenty.” Her smile was smug, always eager to win a bet against Chris Redfield— though neither would be saddened by the outcome of this one.
Claire rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hold back her chuckle. “You two are impossible.”
Conversation made the nerves in Claire's heart take the backseat, and by the time they reached the clinic she almost felt normal.
They stepped out into the cool air, sky still grey from the rainy morning. Inside, the waiting room was quiet, the scent of antiseptic and coffee lingering in the air. Claire checked in at the front desk, then followed Jill to a pair of chairs against the wall.
Across from her, a few other expectant mothers sat with their partners— whispered conversations exchanged with smiles, fingers interlaced on armrests.
She didn't resent them.
Not really.
She just… noticed.
Noticed the way they leaned into each other, the way their excitement — their nerves — were shared. Would it have been different if…
It didn't matter. Self-pity and what-ifs would get her nowhere.
In the same room there were women not only waiting alone, but with an air of loneliness Claire knew too well, only dimmed because Jill was there.
“Claire?”
She blinked as Jill nudged her lightly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking,” she said with a faint smile.
Before Jill could probe further, a nurse called Claire's name.
Jill gave her a reassuring look. “I’ll be right here,” she said, squeezing Claire’s arm briefly before letting go.
Claire nodded, exhaling as she stood and followed the nurse down the hall.
The exam room was small but comfortable, a cushioned chair beside the examination table, a monitor positioned near the bed. Claire sat stiffly, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she answered the standard questions—how she was feeling, any new symptoms, changes in diet or movement.
Then came the part she both dreaded and anticipated.
“Alright, let’s take a look,” the doctor said warmly, rolling her stool closer to the ultrasound machine. “Go ahead and lift your shirt a bit for me.”
Claire swallowed, lying back as the cold gel met her skin. She turned her head slightly, watching the monitor as the wand moved over her abdomen. It took a second before the grainy image came into focus—before that soft, rhythmic sound filled the room.
Every time, it felt more real. More terrifying. More incredible.
Everything looked good, the doctor reassured her. Healthy growth, strong heartbeat, no complications so far. Then, a pause.
“Would you like to know the sex?”
Claire’s heart jumped a little. She'd thought it was too early to know, but the knowledge was more than welcome.
She hesitated. And then, answered past the nod on her throat.
“…Yeah.”
The doctor smiled. Moved the wand slightly.
“Well,” she said after a moment, turning the screen to face her better, pointing at something Claire wasn't sure she understood. “You're having a healthy girl.”
A girl.
Claire exhaled softly, too stunned to say anything. A million thoughts ran through her mind.
A daughter. It had felt real before, that was undeniable. But something about the revelation made it feel real not just in her body but her mind as well.
She was having a daughter.
The rest of the appointment went in a blur, dulled by the new knowledge. When Claire stepped back into the waiting room, Jill was flipping through one of the magazines. She glanced up, brow lifting in silent question.
Claire didn't say anything at first, just meeting Jill's gaze, lips twitching with a barely contained grin.
Jill's eyes narrowed. “Well?”
“A girl,” Claire whispered, still marveling at how it felt to say it. The words were strange in her mouth, but at the same time, they felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“Claire!” Jill shot up from her seat, eyes widening as she took in the redhead's expression. “Oh my god, really? A girl ?” She reached for Claire, her hands grasping at her arms.
Claire laughed softly, her smile growing despite the surprise still simmering in her chest. “Yes,” she said, a little more confidently now, the weight of the words making her feel grounded, somehow. “A girl.”
Their joy was palpable, heightened by the novelty of the news and the nerves that had left Claire after knowing everything was progressing just like it had to. And Jill insisted on going somewhere, hoping to make use of the rare occasions they had to catch up, and hoping to provide Claire a distraction for as long as she could.
They ended up at a little café near Claire's place, the warmth providing a shelter from the chilly evening. Once they were seated, and their drinks were served, Jill began the conversation.
“So, have you thought about names?”
Claire chuckled, stirring her tea absentmindedly. “There's one or two I like.”
“Are any of them Jill?”
“That's top of my list, obviously,” Claire replied, shaking her head.
“Good.”
They shared a laugh. It was easy.
“Y'know… Chris is gonna go overboard with gifts,” Jill mused.
“Might even compete with Sherry.”
“We'll all spoil her, I'm sure of it.”
Claire nodded slowly, a smile on her lips. She was sure of it too. There were things she wasn't yet sure how she would provide, but love would never be missing. Neither would hands ready to protect her.
Jill leaned back on her seat, watching Claire carefully. “How are you really feeling?”
“Honestly?” she inhaled slowly. “It's a lot. Can't really pretend I have that much time to figure things out anymore.”
Her lips twisted into a small smile. “It's not just a vague idea now.”
Jill nodded, listening intently.
“I really–... I would've been happy either way.” She sighed, not too proud of what she was going to say, but she knew Jill would never judge. “I guess I'm a little relieved. It sounds stupid, I just– I don't want to be reminded of him.”
The other woman didn't answer right away. She wasn't judging, not even close. “It doesn't sound stupid, Claire,” she reassured. “I get it.”
Of course, a daughter didn't free her from Jack's shadow, but it was easier to picture her and not fill the blurry image of her face with Jack's features.
“The baby is yours, Claire. Yours and yours alone,” Jill began. “If you don't want him in her life you have more than enough reason.”
“Yeah…”
Jill let the words settle, giving Claire space to breathe through the weight of them. There was no rush to move past the topic, no pressure to reframe it into something easier to digest.
After a moment, Claire let out a small, slow breath and met Jill's gaze again. There were so many layers to it that they could be talking for years.
“And what about Leon?” Jill arched a brow knowingly.
Claire huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “I knew you were gonna ask that.”
“I think it's hard to ignore.”
“It is,” she admitted. “I didn't expect him to come back, not like this.”
“But are you happy he did?”
She exhaled slowly, searching for the right words. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I am.”
Jill smirked, but it was gentle. “Then what’s the problem?”.
“I don’t know,” Claire admitted. “I just-... I don’t want to be some kind of obligation to him. I don’t want her to be.”
“Do you really think that's what this is to him?”
It wasn't. She'd never doubted Leon loved her. Even when they'd been apart, the second she'd laid eyes on him at New Year's it'd been clear it would never go away. When she called he'd interwoven himself into her life almost instinctively– so naturally that it'd been easy to forget it wasn't just Claire's life he would be tangled in.
“I don't want it to be,” she repeated. “I love him, Jill. I know he loves me too. We've always been complicated…”
“No shit,” Jill added with a smile. Understatement of the century.
Claire chuckled, but then her expression sombered. “It's not as easy as taking him back. But I can't– I can't just walk away either.”
“I think you're way past taking him back.”
It was harsh, but it was true. They'd crossed way too many lines to pretend they weren't already together, whatever that meant. But at this point of her life, commitment to Claire meant commitment to something far deeper.
“I can't expect him to step up just because someone else didn't.”
“You don't need either of them, Claire,” Jill said firmly. “You don't need to fill up the space Jack left. If you want to be with Leon then be with him because you want to, not because you feel like you, or the baby, need someone.”
Claire absorbed Jill's words, a truth she'd known but couldn't acknowledge. “I want to be with him,” she admitted. “I wanted it to be him, but– it's not, and I don't think either of us has made peace with that.”
“Jesus,” Jill sighed, shaking her head amusedly. “So much for a boring year.”
She couldn't help but laugh. She'd thought that same thing herself too many times. “No kidding.”
“I don't know, Claire. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. I'm not saying you're marrying him tomorrow, but– you've still got what… five? six months?” Jill spoke gently, knowing it was easier said than done. “What if you just let yourself breathe for a bit? See where it leads.”
She wanted to believe it could be that easy— letting things happen, giving herself space to figure things out without constantly questioning whether she had the right to.
“Yeah, I think you're right,” Claire murmured, exhaling as she let the thought settle.
Jill smirked. “I usually am.”
“Ok, then. I'll blame you if it all goes to hell.”
“Fair.” Jill took a sip of her coffee, watching Claire closely. “So, what now?”
She sighed, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. “I'll go home, I guess.”
The other woman arched an eyebrow. “To your place, or…?”
Claire shook her head with a quiet laugh. “Yeah, mine.”
“Alright… you gonna tell him?”
Claire hesitated. She wanted to. To see the way his face would change when she shared the news. The way he'd try not to look too excited. But the discovery had made something settle within Claire that she was scared to see settle within him. This was real. And it wasn't their moment.
“I guess I will.”
Jill hummed in approval, giving Claire a reassuring smile. “It'll be fine. He cares about you, Claire. No title is needed to make him your family.”
They finished their drinks, and soon, Claire was back in the passenger seat, watching the city blur past the rain-streaked window.
“Actually,” she said, looking back at Jill, “why don't you drop me off at his place instead?”
Jill didn't look surprised, just nodded, a smirk settling in her face. “Thought you might change your mind.”
Claire rolled her eyes, but there was no annoyance behind it. Jill was impossible sometimes, but she wasn't wrong.
“As long as Jack's out of your life, everything else will fall into place,” Jill said, spite lacing her voice as she pulled up to Leon's building.
“Oh, trust me, he is.”
Jill hummed, stopping the car. “Alright, then.” She reached over, giving Claire's arm a gentle squeeze. “You got this.”
“Thanks, Jill.” She sighed, unbuckling her seatbelt. “For everything.”
“It's nothing. You take care of you and your girl.”
Your girl . Claire could get used to that. With a final smile she stepped out of the car. The cold evening air made her wrap her jacket tighter around herself.
Her fingers hovered over the door for a beat before she knocked.
It only took a moment before she heard footsteps, a soft bark from a dog, and then the lock turning. Leon opened the door, clearly surprised but immediately softer around the edges.
“Hey,” he said, stepping aside. “Wasn't expecting you.”
She offered a smile as she stepped inside. “Kind of a last-minute decision.”
His eyes scanned her face, searching for anything that might hint at bad news. “Everything alright?”
“Everything's fine,” she reassured him, meeting him halfway in a slow, lingering kiss. His hands settled over her lower back, pulling her impossibly closer.
When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, exhaling softly.
“You sure?”
Claire nodded, though she knew he could probably still feel the slight tremor in her breath. “Yeah… just a long day.”
He didn’t press, just ran his hands up and down her arms, offering warmth. “Do you wanna sit down?”
She did. But first—
“I found out today,” she murmured.
Leon tilted his head slightly. “Found out what?”
Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat for a beat. Then, finally, she smiled.
“It’s a girl.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her fully, his blue eyes widening as the words processed. “A girl?” His voice was careful, like he was the only person who understood what it meant to her— perhaps because he was.
Her lips trembled as she tried to smile, but before she could stop it, the first tear slipped free.
“Claire…” His thumb brushed away a tear, his voice impossibly gentle. “Hey. It’s okay.”
She let out a breath of a laugh, shaking her head. “I know. I just—” She exhaled shakily. “I didn’t expect it to hit me like it did.”
Leon smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his against hers. “It’s big news.”
“I always... I always pictured a daughter, y'know?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of a son had never really crossed her mind; it had always been this little girl, even before she’d ever imagined becoming a mother.
“I remember.” A slap to the face as much as it was a bandaid to the heart. He remembered because she'd talked about it– always top of her list of things life had taken away from them. A little girl with her red hair and his nose. And now, here she was. Her daughter. Not his, but not Jack's either.
A shuddering breath left her, and she let herself melt into him, arms wrapping around his neck. He just held her, swaying them slightly, grounding her the way only he ever could.
For now, that was enough. No overthinking, no talking about what this meant for them.
Just this.