Sherry Birkin is a 26-year-old U.S. agent working under the direct command of a U.S. presidential aide.
is one of only a handful of people to survive the Raccoon City Incident
in 1998. During the incident, Sherry was infected by the G-Virus. While
she survived exposure to the virus itself, the U.S. government took her
into custody to monitor how the virus would affect her physiology. Thus
began her time as human guinea pig, poked and prodded by curious
scientists and government officials.
In 2009, she was
inexplicably offered a position as a special agent in the employ of the
United States. She quickly assented in order to escape her life of
forced imprisonment, even though in practice she was still under the
watchful eye of the government.
She lacks the experience of more
seasoned agents, but she can still hold her own against Jake Muller, and
she’s capable of providing the emotional support he has lacked for most
of his life.
In spite of the tragedy she has witnessed, she
still believes implicitly in the good of people. Her relationship with
Leon and Claire since they saved her in Raccoon City has never changed.
Below is a letter Sherry wrote to Claire before deploying to Edonia. — Dear Claire,
recently been ordered to go on a mission overseas, but I’m not allowed
to say where or what it’s about. I know you’ve always told me to stay
away from this kind of stuff, and I know you were just worried about me,
but it’s the only choice I had. It makes me happy to know that I might
be able to prevent others from ending up like I did. Even this mission
I’m about to go on will make a difference.
You’ve always been so
kind, but you don’t have to worry. I won’t do anything stupid. You saved
my life, so I plan on keeping it for a long, long time.
Yours Truly, Sherry
File #46: The G-Virus
William Birkin, father of Sherry Birkin, is responsible for the
discovery of and research on the G-Virus, a virus with incredible
regenerative and reproductive abilities. The G-Virus causes the host to
lose rational thought, turning it into a violent creature that seeks to
replicate the virus as an embryo in a person with blood ties to the
During the Raccoon City Incident, an armed group
sought to steal the G-Virus, and killed William Birkin in the process.
Before his death, however, Birkin injected himself with the virus, thus
consummating his life’s work. Revived by the virus, Birkin sought out
his nearest blood relative, his daughter Sherry, and injected her with
an embryo for the G-Virus. Claire Redfield created an antidote to stop
the embryo from mutating Sherry’s body, but even after the expulsion of
the embryo, trace amounts of the G-Virus remained in her body.
result of the government’s tests on her is that she has incredible
regenerative abilities, including immunity to most viruses. Her youthful
appearance is thought to be due to the G-Virus as well.
Below is a note written by a researcher who was involved in the study of Sherry’s unique condition. — Sherry Birkin was the light from the darkness that engulfed Raccoon City. She is a miracle.
small amount of G-Virus that remained in her body is still active, but
produces no harmful effects. Only its regenerative properties have been
activated, making her almost immortal in a way. This also is what makes
her look so young, since it has halted her aging processes. Plus, she
now has a strong resistance to all other viruses.
don’t think this comes as a blessing to Sherry. She will always be
different from everyone else which will probably cause her some pain.
But I think she will pull through. She’s strong, kind, and has such a
positive outlook on life, no matter what the situation.
I wish you nothing but happiness, Sherry.
File #53: Sherry and The Raccoon City Incident
In 1998, William Birkin, father of Sherry Birkin, decided to keep the
results of his G-Virus research for himself. His superiors at Umbrella
had grown tired of his attitude and sent a commando unit to retrieve the
virus for them. The unit’s mission coincided with the T-Virus leak that
had contaminated Raccoon City. The confluence of the two events
contributed greatly to the city’s destruction.
Sherry Birkin was
also caught up in these events, but thanks to the heroic efforts of Leon
Kennedy and Claire Redfield, she was able to survive the incident.
Sherry considered Claire to be her new mother after losing both her
parents. It was Claire’s love and devotion that had the greatest impact
on Sherry’s development, and Claire’s nurturing and compassionate ways
have manifested themselves in Sherry’s own personality. Sherry and
Claire both led very busy lives, but Sherry still made an effort to try
and meet when their schedules allowed it.
Below is an e-mail addressed to Claire, but accidentally sent to a co-worker. — Hey Claire, I
was able to get some days off at the end of next month when you said
you’d be in America. I have so much I want to talk to you about. I can’t
wait to see you!
I’ll send Ronny a message, too. I bet he’ll be excited to hear you’re coming back!
File #54: Life Without Freedom
Following the Raccoon City Incident, the U.S. government decided to take
Sherry Birkin into custody and keep her under observation because of
the trace amount of the G-Virus that remained in her blood. Claire
Redfield stayed by Sherry’s side during the time she had to suffer
through daily tests and experiments.
While it was Claire who provided emotional support, it was Derek Simmons who became her legal guardian.
visited Sherry as often as she could, trying to help Sherry overcome
all the trauma she had endured. Sherry idolized Claire, and was
determined to be just like her: a strong, capable woman. Derek was not
without compassion for the orphaned girl, and he allowed Claire, a
civilian, to visit and comfort Sherry, even though the girl’s existence
was a closely guarded state secret.
In total, Sherry spent 11 years in the hands of the government. It wasn’t until 2009 that she was given any freedom.
is a letter that Claire tried to send to Sherry during this time. The
letter was intercepted, but never shown to Simmons. The person who found
it sympathized with Sherry and Claire’s situation, but couldn’t allow
it to go to Sherry, so he had it destroyed in secret. — Sherry, I
don’t want to make things any harder for you, but I need you to be
careful around Simmons. I know he’s been supportive and let’s me see
you, but something’s not right with him. I don’t have any proof, but I
know what people look like when they’re hiding something, and I get that
feeling every time I look into his eyes. You are so trusting of people,
and it worries me. Please just be careful, for my sake.
I’ll be busy, so I won’t be able to come and see you for a little while. Keep being your cheerful self.
after what happened with the vampires, simon stays at the institute for a while. since jace is the only one whose clothes fit him, simon ends up wearing a lot of jace’s clothes
simon really loves jace’s grey hoodie. he loves it on jace but he also loves wearing it himself (check out this art by @steveyharrington)
so one evening they’re outside and simon doesn’t get cold since he became a vampire but he still gets phantom shivers sometimes so jace takes off his hoodie and offers it to simon. simon may or may not hold onto it for a while because it smells like jace and makes him feel warm inside and out
and when jace is away on a mission simon just snuggles up in the hoodie and it calms him a bit, not completely because he’ll always worry about jace when he’s on missions, but wearing the hoodie helps
once simon tried on some of jace’s gear. jace gets super flustered and stares for a solid ten minutes before he can get any words out. they decide simon won’t wear the gear again unless he gives jace a warning first
jace wears simon’s clothes as well. he’s particularly fond of wearing simon’s collection of band and movie shirts even though he’s rarely heard of any of them (mainly because he loves watching how excited and animated simon gets when he explains them to jace)
when jace wears one of his band shirts, simon will put some of their music on and they’ll lie on the bed holding hands and listening to the music (once they’ve been together for a while, simon will sometimes get his guitar out and instead plays the songs for jace himself. jace loves listening to simon play and sing, it blows him away)
if jace wears one of the movie shirts and tells simon he’s never heard of it, simon will pretend to be offended and immediately remedy the situation. they’ll cuddle (jace in simon’s shirt and simon in jace’s hoodie) and watch the movie, feeling warm and at home in each other’s clothes
Claire watched Jamie watching William through dinner that night, stealing occasional glances of her own throughout. Brianna and Roger exchanged significant glances too while Jem spent much of the meal rolling his eyes at the ridiculous behavior of the adults in his life.
While Mandy sat at William’s left hand, Fanny sat at his right effectively excusing him from any conversation with the other adults at the table—a fact that he found to be a surprising relief.
“And where is your little friend?” William inquired of Mandy as they settled in for their soup.
“Mam wouldna let me bring her to table,” she explained between slurps of soup. “She was too dirty from playing outside and Mam didna want anything getting into the food.”
“And what did you say her name is?”
“Esmeralda—it’s from a book,” Mandy explained with an air of cultured importance.
“A book?” William noted with an impressed smile that made Fanny laugh. “And what about you, Fanny? What are your dolls called?”
“I dinna have any dolls like Mandy,” Fanny explained, a slight Scots tinge slipping into her speech from time to time. “But Jem says Jamie can make me one for my birthday if I ask him,” she shrank down a little in her seat, “but I’ve been too afraid to ask him yet.”
“I’ll ask Grandda for ye, if ye like,” Mandy offered. “It takes him a while to carve things,” Mandy began explaining to William, “cause of his hand but he likes to do it. Says it gets Grannie off his back about exercisin’ it regular like.”
William smiled and further up the table Claire made note of it.
“Mandy has him thoroughly charmed,” Claire observed to Jamie and Brianna quietly.
Brianna chuckled into her soup before setting it aside to be taken away and replaced with a clean plate ready for the main course. “You should have heard her earlier in the library,” Brianna laughed to herself. “If she keeps getting that kind of attention from him, he’ll have a hard time getting rid of her.”
“It’s the longest he’s stayed down at dinner since we came,” Claire observed. “The most he’s said to anyone too, I believe.”
“How is John?” Jamie asked, shifting the conversation. “He seemed in decent spirits when I went to fetch ye from his room for dinner.”
“His spirits are improving which could be exactly the turn he needs right now. I think he might do even better if he could see you and William—” but the exasperated pursing of his lips kept her from finishing the thought.
“So Bree, how long do ye think it will take ye to draw up plans?” Roger asked, tactfully changing the subject.
Brianna sighed. “Not long enough,” she lamented. “It’s a pretty straightforward project to design and I’m too excited to really draw it out the way I want to.”
Jamie snorted. “Ye could always offer some suggestions for improvements here,” he joked before looking up suddenly, afraid Brianna would have taken his advice seriously.
She laughed though—and Claire and Roger joined in though their amusement stemmed from Jamie’s immediate regret. “I don’t know that there’s much that could be recommended here aside from better accommodations for the uh… on site staff,” she said, phrasing her response carefully lest she be overheard and give offense—her tone carried her judgment where her words refrained however. “I don’t want to open up that can of worms though.”
“Well, with any luck, John will be properly on the mend soon,” Jamie said with encouragement before taking a large bite of a roll and effectively ended his participation in the conversation.
“I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.“
“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you’re naked,” Claire told Owen, rolling out of his arms, and fighting back the urge to smile.
It was Owen’s turn to grin, the edges of his mouth tugging up into a wide smile, and Claire almost forgot what they were fighting about.
It was a well-worn argument between them, how much Claire worked, her work/life balance, and usually it resulted in both of them getting fired up, yelling at each other, and almost always ended with them ripping each other’s clothes off, stumbling towards the bed where they momentarily forgot that they were infuriated with each other.
So. I had an Anonymous prompt: “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.” Also, I’ve had requests for Owen sending Claire flowers whilst she works away.. So; I’ve combined the two for some pure, unadulterated Clawen fluff. I hope you guys like this..!
Owen hated to be separated from his wife. The anxiety had been born from the hours and days that followed the incident at Jurassic World. The two of them had been thrown together in the worst way – the day the world shifted beneath them, when everything they knew tilted on its axis. Claire and Owen had emerged from the aircraft hangar as two very different people, reaching for one another’s hand after a beat, determined to hold on for survival. The burning, nightmarish evenings spent in the gritty Costa Rican hotel; silencing one another’s screams with a series of feverish kisses and calming words. He didn’t want to let go of her, ever. The ring was brought and slid onto her finger six months after touching down in the States.
How about a 'message in a bottle' story?What if,when Jaime was missing Claire after she left,he wrote her a letter(maybe one for his unborn child too?),sealed it and left if somewhere where he thought if could be preserved for centuries for Claire to find?(maybe he left a note on it to open it in1948 and it was passed on in the family as curiosity and when her story makes it to the newspaper someone remembers the name on it?).What would he write?What would Claire do if she found out he survived?
Anonymous asked: Have you ever consider doing a prompt from 2 different writers with different points of view about the same subject? It could be interesting. Love what you do here. You have skills, ladies :)
And @imagineclaireandjamie said…. sure! After a bit of discussion and a very intense coin-flip session to decide on a prompt:
We present for your amusement, each of our takes on the same prompt. A verra Happy Thanksgiving to all our readers who celebrate it! Here is our wee gift in thanks of all of you:
It came with the afternoon post – tucked underneath bills and catalogues and the miscellanea of their move to Boston. The return address was marked Edinburgh, care of a solicitor’s office. Thinking it to be some papers Frank had requested for his book, Claire almost ignored it – but the baby chose that moment to kick. And she collapsed into the stiff dining room chair as soon as she slid the envelope from under the pile.
It was addressed to her. Or, rather, Claire Beauchamp Fraser Randall.
Claire’s hands trembled as she carefully slit open the envelope. Three items dropped out – a single typewritten sheet, an incredibly battered and fragile package – and a small wooden snake, with “Sawny” scratched on the underside.
No. It couldn’t be –
Quickly she scanned the solicitor’s letter. The two items had been discovered at the bottom of a trunk in a warehouse owned by a recently bankrupted Scottish bank. The envelope holding them had disintegrated when the collection agents touched it – but the name on the package had been enough for the solicitors to track her down.
Claire’s heart stopped as she recognized the careful, painstaking scrawl on the front.
Claire Beauchamp Fraser Randall – Oxfordshire – to be opened after 1945
Claire shook her head and gingerly unwound the twine holding the package together – and the paper unfolded like a musty flower. Five – no, ten sheets. All covered in Jamie’s distinctive handwriting.
She rested one hand on her belly – grounding herself – and gently picked up the top sheet.
My dearest Wife –
As you can see from the Location and Date of this Missive, I am indeed Alive. Whether by the grace of God, or the stubbornness of my Sister, I endured the calamity on Culloden Moor and have lived on our Estate these two years past.
There is again a Price on my head, so I have chosen to live in the Cave behind the main house, where I remain close to my Family but am safe from Danger.
It is cold and quiet but I treasure the Solitude. I now write to pass the time and reflect. You are at the front of my mind at every moment of every Day, and I often find myself speaking aloud to you when the Silence becomes too much to bear.
Know that I love you with every ounce of my Being and long to feel you safe within my arms. But if you succeeded in crossing through the Stones – and the bairn was born healthy and strong – then I cannot regret any part of the choice we made. Seeing you in my Dreams will sustain me…
Claire’s vision blurred – and she realized tears had been silently streaming down her face. Her thumb traced the faded ink, longing so desperately to see him, touch him –
Find him. He was still alive. He had survived. And she could return to him, to Lallybroch. To her true life.
Strengthened with fresh determination, Claire carefully rose to her feet and hurried to Frank’s study. Those notes about the Jacobites and Culloden were in a manila folder on his desk…
“There was one more thing,” Roger said, watching Claire as her eyes drank in the scrawled handwriting on the pages laid before her.
“More?” she asked, looking up and blinking as though to bring herself back into the present.
“You’ll love it, Mama,” Brianna said, beaming at her. “It’s wonderful!”
“It’s a wonder it exists,” Roger corrected. “Someone must have put it aside or accidentally packed it away for it even to have survived.”
“Who cares HOW it came about?” Brianna asked, making Roger’s academic’s mind revolt slightly. “It’s proof. Absolute proof. At least for anyone who knows her!”
Roger grinned at that.
Claire continued to sit, watching the pair of them spar as though at a tennis match.
Her right hand- that adorned with a silver ring given to her by a man 200 years older than she- rested lightly on the two handwritten pages before her as though, by touching them, she might touch the man who had written them.
“I beg your pardon,” Claire said politely, cutting across the pair now cheerfully arguing about the nature of ‘proof.’ “But what on Earth are you two on about?”
Brianna snatched a folder from the desk and held it out to her mother, a wide smile on her face. “This, Mama. Look at it!”
Claire complied, taking the folder from her daughter’s hands looking bemused.
She flipped open the cover of the folder to find a photocopy of a typewritten page. She glanced up at her daughter and Roger to find them still watching her eagerly and bent to examine it closer.
Upon inspection, the page was not typed, but printed. It looked like a practice page intended to test a new press or some enhancement or repair made to an old one. There were phrases and sentences all down the page, mostly in Latin.
“Aquila non capit muscas,” she read, then glanced up at Roger and Bree again.
They both continued to look painfully excited, so she continued.
“Per ardua ad astra,” she continued. She didn’t speak excellent Latin, so she skipped over a few she did not recognize.
“Timor mortis conturbat me,” she read, thinking how appropriate that was.
Suddenly her eyes stopped. Her whole body seemed to still like a waxwork.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” she whispered.
For that was what was printed on the page. The last phrase on the test sheet.
Roger watched her with curiosity, wondering what she would say. This, more than anything else, proved that it was her Jamie they had found. This proved that he was there- that she could go back to him.
“You beastly great Scot,” she said, suddenly, and burst into tears.
As it often was when he returned, Lallybroch was silent; the bairns now fast asleep. As usual, he could see a faint light shining through the doorway – Jenny doing some chore or another to occupy herself as she waited up for him.
Unusually, she didn’t look up as he walked in. She was writing a letter, and the candlelight caught a glint of wetness on her cheeks. Writing to Ian then. He’d been gone long this time – long enough to miss much of his wife’s pregnancy and his newest son’s birth – and Jenny was sorely worried about him, though she rarely let it show. Christ he knew that feeling all too well.
The sight stirred something in him – a half-forgotten dream, perhaps, for it could not be a memory. It was an image of Claire, exactly as Jenny was now, though he hair was unbound, tumbling around her tear-streaked face, and the light was not that of a candle (where it came from exactly, he could not say, for it was unnaturally steady). The sorrow etched on her face came back to him with great clarity – was it her he was seeing, or just his own grief reflected back at him?
He longed to know that she and the child were safe, as Ian would know that his wife and children were safe. As he dwelt on the dream, a thought came to him that shook him to the core. If they were safe, would Claire want to know the same of him?
He may never know of them, but they could possibly know of him. If he were to write to Claire, was it possible that she would receive it? It was such a small thing, it seemed all too likely that it would be lost in the flow of the years, and she wouldn’t be looking for it. But if there was a chance…
Over the subsequent weeks in his cave, he wrote to her, putting his love to letter as best he could. Yet a small voice reproached him with his own selfishness. He could not deny it, a substantial part of him was writing in the hope that Claire would to find the letter and realize he was alive. That she would then return to him, she and the child, and they would be a family again.
Yet could he leave her with the horrible choice between returning to him despite the danger, and staying in her time, for the safety of their child?
Yes. He had promised her honesty, and as such, he could not keep his survival a secret from her.
What was more, he owed her the choice. He had left her no choice but to return to the future after Culloden, yet now the situation was vastly different. She alone was capable of knowing whether or not she and the bairn could safely return.
The best he could do to protect them was to tell Claire of the hardships of the present, to make sure she knew as much as possible in order to make the best choice for their child. If there was a way that Claire and the child could return, she would find it. If this time was too dangerous for them to return to, then they would endure the separation. His choice was made.
He tucked the letter into the inside breast pocket of his thin coat. It would not leave his person until he found a suitable place for it.
Until then, it would be safe there - they would be safe.
Frank delicately laid the paper down, unable take his eyes off of it. It was so thin he could make out the wood grain of his desk through it - as ghost-like as the man who’d written it, and just as present. He’d felt Fraser lying between them since the moment Claire had returned, though he’d then believed the man had been from the present. And now?
Claire using a historical figure to support her mad story was one thing; it could easily be believed that she’d run off with some man, and then he’d died and she’d gone mad. This, however; a historical figure supporting her story from across the veil of time…
The rational side of him rejected it, but a small, niggling voice becoming louder by the minute argued that the description of her physique and manner were unsettlingly accurate, far too accurate to be a coincidence. And the reference to ‘her time’ was far to clear to be ignored.
The historian in him could not help but be excited. Yet the husband in him seethed, cursing his colleague for sending him the box of post-Uprising prison documents for his research, cursing the young, sentimental Ardsmuir guard who’d taken and saved the letter from the new inmate, and most of all cursing James Fraser for writing it.
A slow, creeping fear chilled him as he contemplated the letter. If Claire were to find this…
She’d come out of the horror of the war bolder and stronger than she’d entered it, but when she’d returned after having been missing for not quite three years, she’d been utterly broken. If she knew Fraser was still alive, he had a nasty suspicion that she would return to him. And if she returned, she would take his darling Brianna with her, destroying their family.
His scholarly nature would not let him destroy the letter – the only proof the Claire’s story was true – but he could not risk her finding it.
He locked it deep in one of his filing cabinets, in the file marked ‘1753’. Claire had never shown any interest in his work, and that hadn’t changed since her reappearance.