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Shattered Memories - ChrisxWesker Chapter 1

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.:Chapter 1:.
The Mansion



The jeep Chris found himself tied up in was silent-- it had been for hours. Soon after waking up, he'd pushed for answers but received only a smirking Wesker in return. He demanded, shouted, and questioned the man but nothing came of it and he eventually stopped. Chris's gaze fell on the darkened landscape outside of the window. He strained his eyes to see it but eventually renounced and sighed through the darkness. He wanted to know so much, perhaps too much. Questions arose in his head, one after another, until he reached the point where he was repeating questions he'd already thought of.

An orange glow from the sky above them pulled Chris from his thoughts and he immediately turned to the window. He was able to see, though vaguely, the rolling fields of Africa. Surprisingly, there weren't any animals, towns, or people in sight. It was just himself and Wesker-- this was an unsettling thought for Chris. It caused him to go into a sudden thinking spell of what he should and shouldn't tell Wesker if prompted. Telling him that he couldn't remember anything would be a horribly bad idea, Chris knew, but at the time, Wesker might be the only one to even know what happened to his partners. Chris internally scoffed at the ridiculousness of the thought-- even if Wesker knew, he would probably lie to Chris so there was no point.

It wasn't until Wesker took a sudden turn off of the 'road' (it resembled closer to a long strip of slightly less dirt filled area than the rest of the landscape) that Chris began actually paying attention to where they were going. He straightened his back, having been slumped against it to resist any more pain, and watched out of the windshield as they neared an old mine.

Several minutes passed before Wesker stopped the car and turned it off. Chris sank back into his seat, as far as the straps that overlapped across his chest would allow him to go, and Wesker got out of the vehicle. Chris watched him walk towards the mine before vanishing into the darkness within. The tied man took this as an opportunity to attempt to get released from his bondage. The dawn light was assisting greatly as he was now able to see the dried blood on the side of his upper arm and the various half-healed cuts he had along his body. His skin-tight green BSAA t-shirt had small rips through the sleeves and chest area while his off-white jeans were almost ripped completely at both knees.

The sun rose higher and Chris continued to struggle, trying to pull his hands apart from each other or slip them out of the tight metallic handcuffs that secured around his wrists. He wasn't able to bend forward to see what his feet were tied with but he tried anyways, yanking his ankles apart and trying to loosen whatever that secured them together. He sighed and soon lost hope of getting out in the way he was attempting. Instead, he straightened himself up and began looking around the car as much as possible. It was relatively clean on the inside but definitely a safari car. The front seat had a metallic briefcase with Chris's S.T.A.R.S. knife sitting atop it. He wasn't able to locate any of his other weapons nor anything else that even hinted at the fact that this car had ever been used.

Wesker returned from out of the mine within an hour, a scowl planted upon his lips. Chris noted that Wesker's clothes were the same as he'd seen before, completely unlike Chris's ripped and torn attire. Wesker stalked over to the car and opened the door forcefully, the door hinge threatening to give way, before he slipped into the car. The car shook at the slamming of the driver's side door and Chris could hear a subtle growling under Wesker's breath.

"I'm assuming that mining cave didn't have what you were looking for," Chris's voice rang out with uncertainty.

"Do you really want to push me now, Chris?" Wesker growled Chris's name threateningly but the stubborn Redfield continued.

"There's nothing for me to be afraid of. Death would be better than being tied up in a car with your worst enemy, unsure of what the hell he's deciding to do with you. If you're going to kill me, get it over with," Chris urged.

"So eager to die, Chris?" It was a question with almost no audible anger behind it. Chris almost could have guessed that the anger drained from Wesker at the plea of death but he would never assume such a thing from Wesker. Chris wasn't gullible (anymore). True, Wesker adored to see Chris in pain and the very thought of the stubborn brunet begging for death was perhaps the only thing that could, in fact, pull Wesker from an angry state but Chris didn't like the thought and dropped it.

"If my choice is between becoming one of your experiments and dying, death would be my first choice," Chris said, his gaze going out the window. "So just do it already," he finished with a small mumble.

"Wishing for death when your current fate is still unknown, pitiful," Wesker chuckled.

To Chris's dismay, Wesker restarted the jeep and quickly began into another journey to somewhere. It occurred to Chris that he was in the same position he was an hour prior and it just sent him into a deeper slump. He hated the idea of being at Wesker's mercy, the fact that no matter how much he fought, he knew all he had were words. Meaningless words that were useless without power and action to support them. He could threaten, yell, and question all he wanted but they both knew who had the upper hand in the situation--and it certainly wasn't Chris.

"Where are we going now?" Chris asked demandingly.

"You'll find it in your best interest to stop asking question, Christopher," Chris shivered at his name and decided against pushing further for more answers.

He didn't really see much of a point asking questions when he knew they weren't going to be answered. Everything within Chris wanted to make him push. That's what Chris did-- he pushed. Chris Redfield wasn't the type of person to give up, especially in a situation where a single sign of weakness could get the man killed. In any other situation, he would be struggling, shouting-- demanding, even, but at the moment in this position, he decided to stay quiet… and it killed him.

If there was anything Chris hated more than Albert Wesker, it was being under Wesker's control. This thought sent him into a spiral of flashbacks from S.T.A.R.S. It was a time when his Captain, despite being rather stern at times, still had a sense of humor and maybe even a heart (but Chris didn't want to push it). He was human.

Chris had to deny this thought. There was indeed a time when Chris was in denial about Wesker's entire situation. At first, he led himself to believe that Umbrella simply corrupted the man but as he continued to find out more about Wesker's past, this thought was replaced. Wesker, in Chris's eyes, was never human; he couldn't have been. If he had been, it would make it all the more difficult for Chris to accept. Chris, at a time, had to face a harsh reality that the man, Albert Wesker, that he came to know of as his Captain, his partner, and his friend was indeed just a crazed lunatic with some fantasy of taking over the world.

Chris's forehead fell against the window of the jeep, the cold glass stinging at his skin refreshingly before his eyes were able to comprehend that they were going straight for a large thicket. Chris pulled his head from the window as he fell into thought; why exactly would there be a thicket in the middle of the Savannah? They were still in Africa, right?

Chris realized he wasn't even sure if they were still in the same country. The man began wondering what other things he might not know-- the day, the month? He could only hope the year was unchanging but his hope was running thin. These questions contributed to the mountain of questions swimming in Chris's mind and it was turning into a hassle just to keep track of all of them. It had gotten to the point where Chris began repeating questions in his mind, desperate to not lose sight of everything he was trying to remember.

A low growling sound erupted in the car and Chris immediately realized it was his stomach. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Food wasn't a complete necessity to him since the type of missions he was sent on sometimes called for going days without food. If he was just noticing now, how long had he been unconscious for? Too many questions were being added, and re-added, to the list and it was beginning to really bother Chris.

As Wesker descended into the thicket, Chris wondered, again, what the man could possibly be looking for. Chris knew the way Wesker's mind worked but he was no mind reader. He couldn't tell what Wesker had was a plan or if he even had one but Chris knew Wesker; Wesker always had a plan. Chris continued into thought-- perhaps Wesker did have a plan but it wasn't thought out like his others. Maybe, just maybe, he had possibilities and he was relying on those? That would certainly explain his anger from the mine but something still ate at Chris. The thought of Wesker being without a well planned strategy unsettled him. He couldn't see his ex-captain 'winging it'.

Chris realized there was no road for Wesker to follow through the thicket and he seemed to be going rather fast swerving in and out of trees. Chris couldn't really tell how the man driving didn't get lost but they did eventually arrived to a long, clear pathway. By this time, the sun had gone down and Chris's shoulders were beginning to stiffen and hurt. This was added to the original pain of him being injured and his shoulder was launching into becoming extremely uncomfortable. His hunger was eating at his lower stomach and, through the silence and darkness, he was sure Wesker didn't need super-human hearing to hear the loud growling.

Chris was no longer able to look at their surroundings through the darkness and he was beginning to notice his injuries more as time went on. He'd found that his right knee and lower back were also wounded. Atop all of the troubles, he hadn't used a restroom in the entirety of his awakening and it was becoming another problem to add to the list.

They soon arrived to a gated entrance, though Chris could hardly see the gate, that guarded a large mansion. The gate itself had a torch on either side, burning as if Wesker had been expected-- this worried Chris. With the slight luminosity the torch gave off, Chris could see half of the metal gate and half of the wall that it was connected to. Green vines with colorful flowers had latched themselves to the wall and had climbed up and over the wall completely. What was between the gate and the mansion was a mystery to Chris and he internally hoped it wouldn't stay that way-- until he saw the Umbrella symbol connecting the two gates.

Wesker turned off the car and pulled the keys from the ignition, slipping them casually into his pocket. He grabbed Chris's S.T.A.R.S. knife from atop the briefcase in the passenger seat and removed himself from the car. To Chris's surprise, Wesker turned and walked in front of the backdoor, opening it to where Chris was sitting. Chris was unable to see any of Wesker's facial features and his eyes weren't showing which most likely meant his sunglasses were now fixated protectively on Wesker's nose. The moonlight was blocked out by most of the trees but Chris saw Wesker's shadow clearly. Chris attempted to reposition himself and shuffle away as he saw his own knife come into view but was immediately denied due to the straps around his torso.

Wesker bent over Chris to where his ankles were tied. Chris could feel the blade slip between his lower legs and slide down his ankles, releasing whatever had them initially. Wesker lingered momentarily, most likely fighting off the urge to stab Chris with the knife, but moved up to where the straps secured Chris to the seat.

"Why are you doing this?" Chris blurted absentmindedly.

Wesker stopped, the blade hovering between the strap and Chris's left bicep. The brunet immediately regretted it as he watched the blond tilt his head up. They were face to face, shadow to shadow, and Chris could feel the anger pouring from Wesker.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Christopher," Wesker spoke clearly and threateningly.

Wesker, hesitantly, tilted the blade against the material of the left strap and it broke instantly. Both straps broke apart, releasing Chris from the bond of the seat. Wesker's hand snaked around Chris's still secured left arm and pulled roughly. Chris fell out of the backseat and was thrown several feet from the dormant car. Wesker shut the back door and stalked towards him. Chris groaned, his previously sore shoulder now throbbing in agony. Chris was partially happy that it wasn't his right arm that Wesker had pulled on but that quickly vanished when Wesker pushed Chris forward, throwing him face first into the dirt ground. Chris let out another groan as Wesker straddled Chris's back. Chris felt the chilled blade against the edge of his wrists as Wesker cut through the bindings and his hands were freed.

Wesker moved himself off of Chris and replaced the knife in its holster before pulling the man up by Chris's right arm. Chris let out a loud cry of pain and his left hand immediately went to hold it after he was released by Wesker. Chris didn't need to strain his eyes to see Wesker's lips twist into a sadistic smirk while he placed the holster onto his midnight black pants.

"Go," Wesker commanded but Chris remained still. "I won't repeat myself--"

Chris scanned his surroundings, his gaze moving from Wesker, to the jeep, to the countless darkened trees. He didn't know where he was, he was injured, his memory was selective, he was without a weapon, and Wesker had superhuman abilities-- but he was going to find a way to escape. Perhaps if Chris ran into one of the more darkened areas of his surroundings, Wesker's sunglasses would work against him and give Chris a bit of extra time to run-- though it was a long shot and he didn't know how Wesker's eyes worked behind sunglasses.

"Oh, thinking of running, are you?" Wesker seemed entertained by the idea and his smirk had returned, Chris could feel it. "Well then, run. I insist," Wesker urged, stepping away. "I assure you, you won't get far," he spoke smugly.

"How can you be so sure?" Chris mumbled, slowly backing away. Wesker chuckled and removed his glasses, his red cat-eyes now glowing through the darkness.

"Do you really require an answer, Chris?"

"I won't stop fighting, Wesker!" Chris yelled. Within seconds, Wesker was behind Chris.

"I won't stop fighting until I'm dead!"

"I'll just have to kill you quickly."


The memory flashed across Chris's mind and before he knew it, he was on the ground in between the gate and the car. His back ached more and he was sure Wesker had thrown him onto the car and he toppled off of the hood. Chris groaned, his head throbbing in pain while, at the same time, various parts of his body were aching as well.

"You will grow tired of fighting eventually. I suppose I should have my fun while I can," Wesker was standing beside Chris who was still on the ground, his head in too much agony for him to move. His left hand was against his forehead and he was on his left side, facing towards Wesker who was now crouching to be more level with Chris. "The medical assistance you require is in that building," Wesker spoke, his arms resting on his thighs as he watched Chris writhe in pain.

"Yeah sure, with all of the Umbrella scientists. I'd rather take my chances running from you," Chris hissed.

"Is that what you think? You don't think before speaking, do you Christopher?" Wesker chuckled and straightened, replacing his glasses.

Even in agony, Chris felt a tingle crawl up his spine.

It occurred to him that the symbol on the gate was an Umbrella symbol-- not a Tricell symbol. Umbrella had been obsolete for years-- maybe the mansion was abandoned? If it was abandoned, why were they here? What was Wesker looking for?

"I'll tell you once more, Christopher, go or I will not hesitate to kill you."

The pain in Chris's head was slowly subsiding and he was given enough strength to push through the pain and stand up.

"You won't kill me. You need me," Chris muttered, looking at the man as he trembled into a standing position. "I don't know for what-- but you need me," he said slightly breathlessly.

To his amazement, Wesker snickered and moved to the gate. Wesker pushed it open roughly and waited for Chris to walk through before following. Chris couldn't really see where he was walking but he kept his eyes on the torch that sat on the porch that led up to the front door. Between that torch and the two torches that illuminated the gate behind him, he was able to make out a stone pathway, of which he was on, and the dead weeds that lined either side of it.

Chris walked up the stone steps and onto the deck that wrapped around to the side of the mansion and most likely the back. The entrance to the mansion were large double doors that lacked any sort of knob or knocker. The doors themselves were lined with a beautiful design that was hardly visible through the insipid lighting but large umbrella symbols were clearly visible in the middle of each door. The symbols themselves looked weather worn and faded but they still angered Chris. Exactly how many different mansions could Umbrella have had a hold of? How many were still out there? With no money intake, Chris guessed none of them would actually be in any sort of business but he still had to wonder.

Chris's hand flattened on either door as he prepared himself to push. He didn't know what would await him inside but, whatever it was, he was sure it wasn't good. He took a small breath and pushed but neither door budged. He pulled his hands from the door and looked to Wesker who stepped past him. With one strong kick, they both flew open, revealing a large darkened room.

Wesker pushed his sunglasses down to the crook of his nose and scanned the room before walking in. Chris followed slowly, his eyes searching the darkness ineffectively. Chris jumped when a loud sound cracked through the room and various sconces around the double floored room lit. Several lit with no trouble while others flickered threateningly or didn't light at all.

The lights revealed an empty and broken room, closely resembling the Great Hall of the mansion that started the entire ordeal from almost a decade beforehand. Across from the entrance was a broken staircase. Various steps were crumbling and some had large stone chunks taken clear off and were laying about the room. The room had a patterned marble flooring that was also broken and shattered in several places. An unlit chandelier hung from the ceiling that exceeded the second floor that rested above the ground floor. There was a door to both Chris's left and right and he would have guessed where he knew each of them led.

"Do all of the Umbrella mansions look the same?" Chris asked in amazement.

"Vaguely. This was one of Spencer's mansions so yes, it has a similar layout to the one in Raccoon City," Wesker spoke as he examined a part of the wall beside the door on the right.

Chris didn't bother replying but watched Wesker examine a small part of the wall. A thought crossed Chris's mind that Wesker sincerely gone mad and it wasn't just the virus in his body or the brainwashing from Umbrella when Wesker began pounding his fists into the wall. He broke through the wallpaper covered partition with ease and revealed a large safe. Wesker snickered and ripped the safe out of the wall.

Chris watched as Wesker pulled the safe door from the metal box and froze. Chris saw the anger grow in Wesker and could easily compare it to a burning fuse. Wesker let out a loud growl and the empty safe went flying across the room. It hit the opposite wall, leaving a large indentation before landing on the floor.

"I don't have TIME for this!" Wesker growled, removing his glasses and throwing them across the room as well.

Another memory flashed through Chris's mind but it went too fast and he was unable to comprehend most of it but he was sure the exact same thing happened once before-- and seeing Albert Wesker so angry that he would risk the very thing that kept him the slightest bit human, appearance wise, was rare.

Wesker stood there, steaming for a moment before he straightened himself and his facial expression changed back into its calm and serious appearance. He cracked his neck and took a small breath before walking behind the staircase that had a set of stairs going into the basement.

"I suppose we will just have to have a look in the labs. Come, Chris."

Wesker was treating Chris like he was along for the ride or even on Wesker's side. Chris was neither of those things. He knew if he was to try to run from Wesker in his position, he wouldn't make any progress. Half of him hoped Jill or Sheva (or both) were alive and trying to find him but he wouldn't rely on that. He had to depend on himself to get out of his position and if that meant staying with Wesker until they got to a safe enough area where he could run, then so be it.

All Chris had to do was survive long enough to get into that position and he could only hope it was before Wesker was able to get into the spot where he could use Chris to his advantage.

Whatever Wesker had up his sleeve, Chris wanted no part of it.

Chris followed Wesker through multiple secret passageways, various halls, and countless rooms before finally reaching the labs. He could tell they'd reached the labs before entering because the entire layout had changed. The hallway mysteriously turned metallic and it had a large shining Umbrella symbol on the floor leading to an automatic door. The light above them made the entire area glow brightly, almost hurting Chris's eyes to walk through the area.

Wesker led the way through the automatic doors, which also had an Umbrella symbol between each door. Once he got close enough the doors opened, showing a completely trashed area. Files were askew, computers were overturned-- the entire room was in complete ruins. Wesker walked through all of it and went through another door which led to a room that was completely untouched.

The metallic walls surrounded a desk with an old computer. Files were spread out across the desk but besides the emptiness, nothing was out of place. Chris could have guessed this to be his old Captain's office back at S.T.A.R.S. It looked almost the same, without all of the random Umbrella symbols, of course. There was no personality to it whatsoever and it held only the necessary items.

A sharp pain went through Chris's shoulder and he gasped lightly, his left hand reaching to hold it soothingly. Wesker looked up from behind the desk and watched Chris in pain before speaking.

"The medical supplies should still be intact. Go into the room out there and to the left should be a supply closet with a first aid kit," Wesker mumbled as he began going through the files.

"You don't think I will try to run?" Chris asked, looking at Wesker in surprise.

"Christopher, I know you better than that. You need the first aid more than you need to escape. Furthermore, you wouldn't know how to get back up to the surface. We're miles underground. I would find you before you found your way a mile up, we both know that," Wesker spoke without looking at Chris as he shuffled through the papers.

Without another word, Chris turned on his heel and went out of the door. The door automatically closed behind him and he saw this to be his way out-- it would be the only chance he got and he had to take it. Wesker was right, however, he needed the first aid (yet, whether it was more important than Chris escaping was rather controversial) and that's exactly what he planned on doing. He was going to deal with his wound as fast as possible and run.

Chris saw the supply closet to his left and went towards it. The door opened automatically, sliding into the wall just as Wesker's did, and he went through the doorway. He quickly grabbed the kit that sat on the wall and went into a connecting door that was a restroom. He quickly used it, relieving himself of a pain that had lingered in his stomach since he'd woken up that morning, and then began tending to himself.

The bathroom itself was completely white, shining and clean despite the appearance of the outside office. There was a row of sinks along with stalls that all looked completely untouched. Chris was rather surprised to see it without dust or without any sort of destruction but he couldn't linger-- he had planning to do. He dumped the contents of the first aid box onto the counter and removed his shirt, tossing it over the side of one of the sinks. Chris examined the sprawled out contents in front of him and sighed; One bottle of first aid spray, two bandage rolls, cotton pieces, an ice pack, and various other things he probably wouldn't be using. He looked at his chest in the mirror behind the row of sinks and could see countless scratching going every which way across it. His shoulder was red with dried blood and the wound was shaped oddly-- Chris couldn't think of how he could get a wound like that. At first, he thought it could be a bullet wound but after staring at it while cleaning it, he began thinking otherwise. The wound wasn't circular enough nor big enough to be a bullet, it had to be smaller than that.

Chris pressed two fingers around the wound to feel if there was possibly anything inside but within milliseconds of touching it, he hissed and pulled back. The wound was too small for him to fit his fingers inside so he, reluctantly, began painfully pushing the skin around the wound. After a bit of working it (and quickly noting to himself that he was taking longer than he'd originally intended) a small shimmering red piece of something poked through the hole. He looked at it before gripping it gently with his forefinger and thumb and pulling it out.

A small sound of pain later, he held in his hand a minute piece of blood covered metal. The piece of metal was sharp and bent on the edges, showing Chris it must have broken from impact but what sort of impact? Was he in some sort of accident? He kept the metal piece in his palm while he ran it under water, rinsing it of the blood so he could take a closer look at it. He took a moment looking at before reminding himself that his time was running short. He slipped the piece in his pocket carefully and used a bit of first spray on it, disinfecting the wound. Chris then pressed a piece of cotton onto it, placed a small bit of medical tape on the wound to keep it still, and began quickly wrapping it with a bandage roll.

Chris ripped the ending piece of the bandage with his teeth after using as much as he needed, which was about half of the roll, and ended it off with another few pieces of medical tape. He made sure the remainder of his cuts weren't bad and cleaned them up quickly before checking his back. Surprisingly, his back barely had a scratch on it but it was badly bruised-- maybe he had landed on something? He could only guess but now certainly wasn't the time. He pulled up his pant leg to his right knee and saw that it was badly scraped and dried blood was sitting around this wound as well. He quickly cleaned it and sprayed another bit of the first aid spray-- the cans never seemed to hold too much disinfectant. Chris bandaged the wound and checked the rest of his body to no avail.

Chris didn't bother putting the remainder of the first aid kit back together but did take a moment to look at his swollen and bruised cheek. He frowned and had a sneaking suspicion it was from Wesker but had no memory to back up the accusation. He shrugged and quickly made his way out of the bathroom and storage closet.

Chris was surprised to see Wesker standing outside the door, a file in his hand and his eyes reading over the contents inside. Chris felt it odd to see Wesker without his sunglasses but found it better not to dwell. He never really understood why Wesker was so keen on having the damn things; even in S.T.A.R.S. the man wouldn't be caught without them. Chris had only seen Wesker's real eyes on one occasion and he remembered it in immense detail.

Being woken up at three in the morning was something Chris definitely wasn't use to, especially considering he worked until almost one as it was (thanks to the mountain of paperwork). Both Chris and Wesker had spent a large time after-hours going through the latest cases. They all seemed to have one thing in common and Chris couldn't deny the sneaking suspicion crawling around in his stomach. All of the cases had something to do with the pharmaceutical company Umbrella. In fact, they were all cases involving Umbrella employees (or ex-employees) going insane in one way or another.

In one case, a woman had run out of her home, half naked, waving a gun around. S.T.A.R.S. wasn't called in until she began biting people despite having a gun. They attempted to talk her down but it was ineffective and they ended up killing her. Well, Captain Wesker took the shot (much before Chris intended to) but he was also at the ready as the woman had been seconds away from attacking Chris.

In other words, Chris's Captain had saved him and, as a return favor, he had helped him with the paperwork.

True, both Alpha and Bravo team dealt with paperwork but Chris took on far much more than anyone else specifically to help Wesker. Wesker always seemed stressed, Chris just liked to help loosen the load on the man. Chris had no real obligations-- He lived alone, no girlfriend, his sister Claire was busy finishing college, and his only real responsibility was his work.

At the moment, however, he was seriously regretting ever helping the man. He was in the passenger seat of the car Wesker had picked him up in. Wesker wasn't able to contact any other of the Alpha team members and it was up to Enrico to gather Bravo team.

"Why do all of the sociopaths and idiots have to come out at night?" Chris mumbled, rubbing his eyes in attempts to keep himself awake.

"You cannot expect these people to work around your schedule, Redfield," Wesker spoke.

Even the calm, cool, and collected Captain seemed rather tired-- Chris had never really seen that side of Wesker before.

True, the man always looked stressed and sometimes absolutely on edge but he'd never looked tired. This simple fact told Chris that the man may have had problems but they certainly weren't worth losing sleep over-- that would jeopardize his career and maybe his own life. Chris respected his Captain highly and this was one of the reasons why-- Wesker would do anything to avoid endangering his career or the people he was responsible for. Despite the cold exterior, Chris could almost guess that Wesker might have liked Alpha team but it could have also been due to his high tolerance (which seemed to run thin when it came to Chris).

"I told you not to call me that, Captain," Chris mumbled sleepily. His hand supported his limp head while his elbow rested on the window sill.

"It's unprofessional to refer to you by your first name, Christopher," Chris could hear the forced name through Wesker's lips and almost laughed.

"I told you not to call me that either," Chris repeated, looking towards the driver. "Just 'Chris'."

"I believe I'll just continue to call you Redfield," Wesker spoke as they turned down a dark and abandoned street.

"When you picked me up, you weren't too informative on what this is all about. What's the situation, exactly?" Chris asked, sitting up as flashing sirens came into view from a distance.

"Another Umbrella employee situation but this time, the employee has a full room of hostages. At the moment, I don't have a name or the number of hostages but I was also informed rather ill informed due to the nature of the emergency. Unfortunately, I believe we'll be the only two to show up at the scene," Captain Wesker explained as he stopped the car.

"Wait, the only two in Alpha team or--"

"We're the only two coming at all. I was unable to successfully get in contact with Marini and even if he gets the messages I left, he would still need to gather the entire Bravo team," Wesker continued as he repositioned his glasses on his face.

"Then why did you pick me up but not anyone else?" Chris asked as Wesker got out of the car.

Wesker bent down to look at Chris from the open door of the driver's side and smirked slightly when he spoke-- "You ask too many questions, Redfield."

The driver's side door to Wesker's black Mercedes-Benz closed and Chris sighed with a small chuckle. He unhooked his seatbelt and opened the door, sliding out and closing it behind him before joining Wesker outside of the scene.

Within minutes, Wesker was updated on the situation and the two of them were geared and inside the facility. From the first floor, the two could hear the man, who's name was Ed Fisher, yelling from the second floor area. Within minutes after that, Wesker and Chris both had guns pointed at the ex-researcher while he dramatically claimed that Umbrella was going to kill him. After failed attempts of talking the man into put the gun down, they began trying to make a deal.

"You know they have people-- people undercover in the police force! In S.T.A.R.S! I heard it, you know! I heard them talking--" He was rambling senselessly, the gun in his hand that pointed towards one hostage in particular was shaking uncontrollably and Chris had the overwhelming feeling he was going to soon lose control over his body.

"We will have to look into that, Doctor Fisher, but you're going to need to put the gun down," Chris pushed, his handgun pointed directly at Fisher.

"I already told you I'm not putting my gun down!" He yelled, his gun hand shaking violently.

"Alright. Why don't we make a deal? If you leave the room, you can keep the gun and we won't arrest you," Wesker suggested. "We just want these nice, innocent people to come out alive and uninjured."

The man thought about it, his gaze going from the two S.T.A.R.S. members back to the office full of hostages.

There must have been several police squads waiting outside of the building, ready to apprehend him. The main goal was to get the gun pointed somewhere other than the hostages. The Umbrella building they were inside had to have been five to ten stories high with countless offices. The entire building was currently vacant, excluding the office full of people, and most of the officers were afraid to enter the building because of the death threats they'd received through phone whilst trying to contact him. According to the officer that had updated the two S.T.A.R.S members, Fisher had claimed if he had anyone but S.T.A.R.S enter the building, he would shoot everyone.

"A-Alright, that sounds g-good," he was stuttering and visibly sweating-- most likely from being put under too much pressure. "--but you two aren't going to follow me out," he commanded at the S.T.A.R.S. members.

As he slowly walked towards the door, Chris became silently happy none of the other S.T.A.R.S members were able to show up. If there had been both Alpha and Bravo teams crammed in that room with all of the hostages plus the man with the gun-- things would have gone a lot differently. When the man had made it to the doorway, he looked over his shoulder towards the hallways, and that's when Wesker moved.

Chris might have been the sharp-shooter of the team but Wesker was captain for a reason-- his quick and effective moves sometimes stunned even his allies.

Wesker had grabbed the criminal's wrist with his gun-less hand and pushed it up. The man shot out of surprise and a ceiling panel fell onto the white flooring, breaking across the Umbrella symbol between all of the desks. Wesker tightened his grip threateningly on the man's wrist and the gun fell from his hands, sliding towards Chris. The man panicked and began throwing punches at Wesker who still had a strong grip on his right wrist. The first went unblocked by Wesker, successfully knocking his sunglasses from his face. Wesker dropped his own gun and was able to block the second attack with his now freed hand. He punched the man in the lower stomach then kneed him, lucratively sending the man reeling backwards.

Chris quickly called for backup and within seconds, there was an entire squad in the hallway, pinning Fisher to the floor. They were able to put him in handcuffs and drag him away without help from Wesker or Chris and the two had been ushered out, with thanks, so that the police could deal with the hostages.

Wesker hastily looked for his sunglasses around the floor while exiting but Chris noted a dull sigh from him before Wesker walked faster into the hallway. Chris saw the pair of sunglasses, broken entirely in half to the right side of the doorway. Chris followed him to the first floor and out of the double doors that was the entrance.

An EMT rushed towards Wesker to tend the wound on the bride of his nose, most likely from the impact of Fisher's fist against the sunglasses and into Wesker's nose, but was quickly shooed away. Wesker didn't bother addressing anyone as the two made their way back to Wesker's car. By this time, dawn was now in motion and an orange sky lingered brightly in the darkness.

Chris was first in the car and Wesker quickly followed but the two closed the doors at the same time. Wesker quickly flipped down the visor and examined the damage done to his nose. He touched it with his middle finger and saw blood on the pale digit before sighing and looking at Chris.

"Good work in there, Redfield," He said with a tired but satisfied smile.

Through the slight darkness, Chris strained his eyes to see the color of Wesker's eyes. He'd never even seen his eyes before and doubted he would ever get the chance again, he wanted to make the moment count. He had no real idea why it was so important to know his captain's eye color but it was.

Green.

His eye color was green.

Chris internally smiled at this.

"I didn't actually do anything, Captain," Chris mumbled admittedly as Wesker began searching for something, his hand exploring underneath his seat at first before diving into the backseat.

"You followed orders, provided cover, and helped save a room full of people-- I don't want to hear you say that you did nothing," Wesker said with exertion, reaching back farther before sighing and trying inside the arm-rest that doubled as a second compartment.

"I suppose that's true. Sir, I'm still kind of curious about why I was the one you picked up to help you on this case."

Wesker, to Chris's surprise, didn't stop looking for whatever he was looking for and immediately went to the glove department.

"I already told you that you are asking too many questions. Don't make me repeat my--" He cut off as he pulled out another pair of black sunglasses. "Finally," he mumbled before slipping them onto his face.

"I know, I'm just curious," Chris said with a shrug, looking at his Captain out of the corner of his eye.

"If you must know, out of the rest of the team, I chose you purposely to accompany me," Wesker answered, pulling his seatbelt over himself.

"So you didn't call anyone else?"

"No I did-- several times in fact, but at such an early time, nobody wants to pick up the phone. I'd assume most of the team didn't even hear their phones at such an early hour. I just decided that I did in fact need backup and I chose you to get specifically. I was well aware that nobody would attend and I honestly can't wait to shout at everyone for not being ready," Wesker said with a low chuckle.

"They'd deserve it after not showing up," Chris mumbled, his head leaning on his hand again as his eyes threatened to close. "It's nice to know you think I'm competent enough to back you up, even compared to Jill."

"Ms. Valentine does have remarkable skill but I felt you were more qualified for this case," Wesker said, turning down a street that Chris realized was the complete opposite way of his apartment.

"How so?" Chris asked, looking out his window, mentally trying to push through his drowsiness to figure out where they were going.

"Well, two reasons. The first is because that you stayed later than needed to helping me with paperwork. In fact, as I recall, I didn't ask and was strictly against it but you offered anyways and we were able to get it done quicker than I expected. The second reason being you know what you need to do to save someone's life. If that, at times, requires going against your superior's order and thus putting everything on the line, you would do it without much of a thought. I needed that tonight if things had gone bad," Wesker muttered, turning onto the main street of Raccoon City.

Chris internally groaned-- they were going to work.

"So because I stayed later, you decided that it would be a good idea to wake me up after two hours of leaving only to bring me to work anyways?" Chris asked, looking to Wesker as they pulled into the police station parking lot.

"Saying it like that makes me sound like the bad guy," The S.T.A.R.S Captain chuckled. "I haven't had any sleep, either, you know," he said matter-of-factly, parking the car.

"That was the whole point of me staying later, was that so you could get sleep," Chris sighed, unbuckling his seat belt as the car was turned off.

"Well, Chris, that worked out well, didn't it?" Wesker asked before unbuckling his own seatbelt and getting out of the car.

Chris's spine tingled.

Captain Wesker had finally said his name.
Prologue:[link]
Next: [link]

Holy god I’m finally done. One of the longest chapters I’ve ever written and it was completely unintentional. It’s currently one in the morning and I can barely comprehend simple words at the moment, yet I somehow finished this.

I can only hope I didn’t fail completely.

I'm updating now due to my hectic college schedule that will be coming up. Enjoy ~

Later chapters will have strong amounts of Yaoi-- just a warning.

Other sites the story is uploaded:

[link]

Lastly... I'm still sorry for the flashbacks and italics. x-x
© 2012 - 2024 FatalYaoi
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RockGuy97's avatar
Good chapter ^^ can't wait for the yaoi part <3