Crossroads

Prologue

1997

x-x-x

"Erin,"

A small girl looked up from the far too advanced book she'd been reading to land on her mother, bright blue eyes large and curious as they settled over the small brunette woman in the living room doorway -her posture stiff and smile strained.

"There's someone here who'd like to see you, sweetie."

Placing a worn wolf bookmark between the pages she was on, the six year old stood from the beige armchair, brushing out the creases in her pleated skirt, and made her way towards the woman. "Who is it, mumma?"

The tightness of the woman's smile only grew, and saying nothing she placed a hand on the child's back and guided her to another room where a military uniformed man sat casually, yet there was a tenseness to his shoulders. She felt her stomach knot nervously as she met eyes the exact same piercing blue as her own; his stern-looking face was young and lethal, though handsome. Her small hand gripped her mother's, not going unnoticed by the man, but he said nothing on it -instead, he let out a small sigh and gave a small smile to the girl, extending his hand to her.

"Billy Coen, kid. You gotta be Erin, right?" Hesitantly, and with begrudging approval from the scowling woman, she let go of her mother's hand and walked the short distance between the two, placing her small hand in his palm, her large eyes boring into his nervously.

"I-I'm Erin Crawford, sir." He frowned lightly at the mention of her surname, glancing up at the woman who did anything to avoid eye contact, and sighed once again.

"That's not quite right, kid. Y'see, your name is Erin Coen. I'm your real, uh... father."

"She's too young to understand-" Her mother heatedly cut in, only to be stopped by the male's glare and Erin's fingers wrapping around her own.

"I know I'm adopted mumma. I saw the papers when you were busy and papa was at work." She quietly admitted, shamefully lifting her orbs to settle on the man across from her. He at least gave her a smile, the sharpness in his blue, blue eyes softening at the young girl.

"Smart kid," Billy praised, before clearing his throat and sitting straighter; gaze shifting from his young daughter to the shocked brunette woman. "I didn't come here to cause any conflict, or disrupt your lifestyles; honestly I just found out about Erin recently and jumped the gun. I didn't realise -if I had known Hannah was... gone, or even pregnant for that matter, I would have taken responsibility sooner. She just upped and left without a word." He sighed, racking a hand through his slicked back hair and tousling it from its gelled confines. "I just want to say thanks, for taking care of her in our places. And if it's not too much trouble, to see her every now and then? I'll pay for anything she needs, or monthly allowances. Whatever works best for you." The woman squirmed under his gaze, though she couldn't help but catch the slight amount of desperation in his tone -what would be the right thing to do? He had such a regal air about him despite the uniform, but the way he looked at his daughter -the lengths he was willing to go, yet promising to not disrupt their life; it had her thinking.

"I s-suppose... I suppose I can't stop you, you're -you're part of her life whether we like it or not. She has the right to know and see her biological father -we can't take that away from her. She's a very bright girl for her age." Smiling softly, she placed a hand on the little girl's chocolate coloured locks, prompting large crystal blue eyes to look up at her in childish innocence.

Billy Coen let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, smiling genuinely at the woman caring for his daughter. "Thank you... You don't know how much that means to me."

Eight years later:-

The incident reported at Harvardville Airport has claimed to have taken a number of lives; only a small handful of survivors remain unharmed -a statement claiming Dr. Frederic Downing was responsible for the attack, using the WilPharma Corporation as a means to release a deadly virus upon the residents of the United States, though the United States Army Rangers were immediately called in and handled the situation. During this incident, a fourteen year old girl put her life on the line to help evacuate trapped survivors and has been taken into protective custody, awaiting any relatives to step forward, due to the unfortunate death of her parents-

Erin Crawford-Coen sat stiffly in too-big clothes in the dining chair opposite Claire Redfield and her brother, the latter assessing her with sharp hazel eyes that made the hairs on her neck stand on end in discomfort. Claire elbowed her brother in the ribs, jarring him out of his thoughts and relieving the scrutinising glaze from his line of sight.

He cleared his throat, an apologetic lilt to his lips as he laced his fingers together above the table and addressed her. Even the simple motion had his massive biceps flexing.

"Claire told me all about Harvardville. You've got no other relatives you could go to? Aunts, uncles? Your... father?" Truth be told, he knew it was far-fetched to ask about her father as well as a touchy subject -the man had been missing since 1998 when all shit went to hell; whether he was even still alive was a mystery. But maybe, with any chance he was still alive, he kept in contact with his daughter? 

Erin's piercing blue eyes narrowed at him; a frown pulling at her lips until she settled her gaze to her lap where her hands fidgeted.

"No... My mother was never my real mother -my real mum, Hannah, died I think...- and she had no siblings. Her parents died when I was one, so there's no one." Swallowing a lump forming in her throat, her fingers grasping the dog tag given to her on that day, the pad of her thumb running over the many ridges lining the metal.

"M-my father... Because of his work, I didn't see him as much as I would've liked. I first met him when I was six years old, the last time was when I was nine, to give me this," She motioned to the dog tag around her neck, eyes misting slightly. "He looked different -like a c-criminal, and there was so much horror and coldness in his eyes. But he t-told that no matter what, he loved me and to stay s-safe. I haven't seen him since, but every year on my birthday he'd send me something -though there never was a return address. I hardly got the chance to know him..."

Chris Redfield nodded, scribbling down something on a notepad, before glancing at his sister. She was frowning down at the table, a single finger tapping the wood as she battled with something internally, teeth scraping her lower lip.

After a few moments, her hand slapped down on the glossy wood making both Chris and Erin jump in their seats, her determining gaze focused on the fourteen year old girl.

"Alright, I've decided. You're still staying with me, Erin. It doesn't feel right after everything you've been through, and you even had both mine and Leon's back at the airport. You've got a good head on your shoulders."

Smiling, Chris reached over the desk and patted the young girl on the shoulder. "I think that's for the best, kid. Just don't let her boss you around, she's pushy like that."

"Shut up, Chris!"

Cracking a smile at the sibling's behaviour, Erin gratefully nodded. She grasped at the memento her father left her, taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, before looking at them both with determination. "I know I'm not old enough yet, but I want to help. If stuff like this keeps occurring around the world; kills hundreds, if not thousands of people, then I want to help stop it. I know what I'm asking and what I'm getting myself into; but I want to fight against bioterrorism, like you both. I want to join the B.S.A.A."