(Disclaimer: All characters are property of Capcom. I don't a thing.

A/N: So... I've decided after a year or so of fiddling to upload this fic again. I know, I'm a terrible person and those who actually read the original version of this may ask why I took it down in the first place. Welp, I didn't like how I portrayed Sherry in the first chapters, I made her seem like a total cry baby, which to me she isn't. But mainly because I didn't like where it was heading. Plus, everytime I re-read it I just made me wanna burn it. However, if you don't like this redux version (which is almost complete. I mean, I'm one chapter or two from finishing this bad boy) then you can find the original on my deviant page, which you can find the link for on my author profile. So, here I am uploading this fic again, hoping you guys will find it in your hearts to give this fic another go, because the reviews I got from you guys were so wonderful and supportive, I just wish the original could've lived up to your expectations. Any hoo, I hope you guys enjoy. Peace out. R.G. xxx)

Promises...

By The Redundant Goddess...

-1-

January 2006...

Steve had never been so glad in his life as when he finally opened the door and was greeted with the musty dank smell of an overly cheap motel room.

Home sweet home…

He took off the crappy plastic sunglasses he had been wearing to hide his unnatural eyes, and studied the room. It wasn't that bad, not the Ritz, but not a total shit-hole either. In other words, it was all he had come to expect.

The drive to Colorado had been a tiresome one to say the least, especially when the heap of junk a certain Sherry Birkin had insisted on buying had broken down half way there. He inwardly growled at the memory. Of course he was the one that had to get out and hit the damn thing till it worked again. Not that he usually minded of course. Hell, hitting things till they either worked or stopped working altogether was something he seemed to excel at these days; not too mention it was a good way to relieve stress. Not today though. Not no way, and not no how. Colorado got incredibly cold during January and if there was one thing Steve hated more than stupid broken down cars, it was the cold.

The redhead really loathed the cold and anything to do with it. He hadn't been all too keen on it when he had been fully human, and he certainly wasn't fond of it now. The cold had a way of being able to slip past his tough, mutated flesh and chill him to the bone; no matter how many thermal layers he covered himself in. Worse still, it made his hands and feet ache terribly and caused his joints become so stiff, at times he felt like a distorted week old pretzel. Another effect of the cold was that found he tired more easily than he had become accustomed too, which didn't help for those oh so life-threateningly important getaways.

Not too mention it made him short tempered, moody and seriously grumpy.

Seriously fucking grumpy.

Sherry had helpfully theorised that this weakness to colder climates was due to the reptilian/ insect like attributes he had acquired from the Alexia incident. That and the fact his body seemed to be in a state of constant mutation due to whatever Wesker had used to 'Wake' him up. To Steve it was like having a lottery machine for a body. He never knew what freakish thing would appear next. One day he would just have long nails, the next he might have a freakishly bony tail. Some days were better than others, but on the whole there wasn't much they could really do about it apart from to wrap him up and hope for the best. The blonde had told him he should be thankful he was still somewhat warm-blooded, besides a few aches and pains during the colder months; Steve was generally in good health… for a Tyrant anyway.

Surprisingly, none of that hadn't made Steve feel any better.

Stupid fucking mutated messed up body of mine.

Still, they had somehow made it to the motel in one piece and that was the main thing. A dark, dingy and seriously dank motel, but it had a bed…right? Steve sighed restlessly; it seemed as if the whole world was against him.

"Why Colorado?" Steve whined softly, as he threw himself onto the bed, not even bothering to take his shoes off. Within a minute the man had managed to roll himself into some sort of Tyrant Duvet Taco. The redhead sighed in relief as the aches and pains in his joints started to slowly ebb away. " Hawaii would've been nice, so would California. Hell even New York…but Colorado?"

Sherry just ignored him, not even bothering to 'tut' at him or scold him. Instead she simply rolled her eyes, and headed for the bathroom with her Toothbrush and a large tube of Toothpaste in hand.

Underneath the covers the elder B.O.W. listened idly to the young woman vigorously scrub her pearly whites. The blonde always brushed her teeth as soon as they checked in anywhere. Steve had thought it weird at first. A strange little ritual that he didn't think he would ever truly understand. Not that he gave two shits either way, but he couldn't stop wondering about it from time to time though.

Maybe she was adamant about preventing gum disease? Maybe she liked to have fresh breath after a long journey? Or maybe she just liked having an excuse to avoid Steve, if only for five minutes.

He doubted he'd ever truly know, but at that moment he was leaning heavily towards the later theory.

Steve frowned.

There's something I need to check…

That was all the blonde had told him the entire time they were on the road. When he had pressed her on what it was that had made her drive half way across America from a relatively warm state to an unthinkably cold one, Sherry did her very best to dodge the question.

"It's nothing, just something I need to look into." She had said, unconvincingly.

When that had failed to keep him quiet, Sherry tried to throw him by abruptly changing the subject every now and then. She had even started talking about porn at one point. However, Steve could tell when his blonde friend was trying pull the wool over his eyes and decided to just keep bugging her till she cried 'Uncle' and caved.

However the young woman didn't cave. Instead Sherry had damn near crashed the truck and stated that if he didn't stop being such a 'whiny bitch', then the spare tyre would find itself lodged somewhere incredibly unpleasant, I.E Steve's ass.

Maybe I shouldn't have made the joke about PMS-ing…

Then after the break down fiasco, Sherry had barely said a word to him. Not that she had spoken to him much in the first place.

There's something I need to check…

If there was one thing Steve Burnside hated more than stupid broke down cars and the cold; it was the feeling of being purposefully left in the dark.

Oh, and cute little blondes, who won't tell me what's up.

Something was seriously off.

In fact, about two weeks before they had set out for Colorado, Steve had noticed a definite change in Sherry. One day she had been her normal, irritatingly sweet self and then the next... BAM! The blonde's behaviour had become quiet (well more quiet than normal), weirdly secretive, and overwhelmingly anxious.

Not that Sherry becoming a little 'down' hadn't happened before.

Who can blame her? Considering what we've been through I think we're allowed a little emo time every now and then…

But this was different.

Usually if Sherry felt depressed or upset about anything, she would brood for a day (whilst doing her best to hide it from him) then come to him and cry on his should solidly the next. Two days and a little bit of TLC and she would be as right as rain.

However, for the past two weeks, for days on end she would be either sat at her laptop working till ridiculous hours in the morning on god knows what or pacing away, palm top in hand, cursing and generally being an ill tempered brat. And then there were the times were he came in from grabbing them some take out to find her on their bed, chewing her lips to pieces, looking as if she might burst into tears at any given moment. Her usually energetic pale blue eyes now held a dull, hollow look. It seemed like the weight of the entire world had been unceremoniously dumped on her shoulders overnight and all she could do was just let it drag her down.

Steve had tried to help her the best he could, deciding it would be best to give her time to work out what ever it was she was going through and let Sherry come to him when she was good and ready, like she always did. But after awhile he could tell she wasn't in any hurry to confide in him. The distance he had given her didn't seem to be helping at all. In fact, it seemed to make her worse. So he decided enough was enough. He had to talk to her. Get to the bottom of things. But trying to get the blonde to open up proved incredibly difficult, especially since she seemed to be avoiding him altogether.

However the times Steve did manage to corner her and ask her if she was okay, he never got much out of her. All he had gotten in return were poorly faked smiles and dismissive nods. Sherry, it seemed, couldn't even be bothered to do her usual trick of trying to conceal her troubles with a brave face. Steve didn't know what was going on inside his friend's head, but the person that currently occupied their crappy motel bathroom was definitely not the fun, smart arsed and annoyingly mild mannered woman he knew and… well… cared a lot about.

The decision to go to Colorado had been somewhat of a shock. It was so sudden and made at such short notice, not like Sherry at all. By that point Steve had gone beyond concerned. He was worried sick. Usually the blonde would tell him way in advance if she were even thinking of looking for somewhere else to hide. She never left him out of any decision, even the grocery list, and this had been the norm ever since they had met back in that research lab all those years ago. It was how their relationship worked.

We're a team, No wait! Best friends, No... Well I don't know what we are, but I know we're something.

However, not this time.

Something was definitely up.

What the hell is going on?

It didn't help matters when the older B.O.W.'s innate sense of paranoia kicked into overdrive. Steve's mind couldn't stop conjuring up every possible worst-case scenario, including the more ridiculous ones. Although Steve somehow couldn't quite believe Sherry had an evil twin… A clone maybe …

But still, he couldn't stop worrying.

Were they in trouble and if they were why wouldn't she tell him? Was Wesker onto them again? Was she sick?

But trying to figure out Sherry was like trying to disarm a nuclear device, whilst wearing thick mittens: Something you'd like to be able to do, but would ultimately fail at and end up suffering the most horrific death imaginable. Or is this just how men generally feel about trying to understand women? Needless to say his sense of helplessness about the whole situation had begun to grate on him.

However, there was one question that irritated the redhead the most about the whole Sherry 'Situation'.

Why won't she let me help her?

When they had still been under Wesker's 'care' he had made Sherry a promise to keep her safe; to look out for her whenever she needed it. To be there for her, through thick and thin, no matter what happened.

I know underneath that entire cute, quiet blonde thing she's got going on, Sherry's one tough cookie. But there's no way I'd trust her out there by herself! With so many people after us, after her...Lord knows what would happen to her? Hell, why else would I be here? Well, apart from her looking after me when I go all 'Steve-Zilla', not treating me like a freak and…well… just being Sherry.

But now it seemed that there was something he couldn't help her with, something he couldn't protect her from. No matter how hard he tried to help, she just turned away. Why? There was obviously something going on with her, so why wouldn't she let him in?

Or maybe Sherry doesn't need me anymore.

Steve's stomach dropped and felt something constrict his heart at the thought, although it would certainly explain a lot. The moodiness, the distance… To be honest Steve had been amazed at how long Sherry had stuck with him.

Living with a constantly mutating time bomb couldn't be much fun. No matter how understanding you are...

Maybe Sherry had finally had enough of him and their high maintenance life style? Maybe she just wanted to settle down in the middle of nowhere by herself and live that normal life she had always been denied. Maybe this was her way of subtly telling him to 'fuck off'? If that was the case; then why now and why didn't she just tell him? Had he done something to upset her? Apart from the past two weeks everything between them had been pretty much great. Perfect, fantastically perfect even. So fantastically perfect Steve couldn't actually believe he could've been so happy given his situation and he was pretty sure Sherry had felt the same way.

So what the hell had happened?

Or maybe it really is nothing…

Steve's brow creased into a scowl and felt annoyed at him self for getting so worked up over something so utterly ridiculous. Who cared if Sherry was acting crazy and not telling him shit? Girls did that all the time, right? It wasn't the end of the world. Why the hell should he worry himself stupid over a probably overly hormonal Sherry? She's a big girl now she can do what she wants… He felt his heart clench painfully again.

He really didn't like this one bit.

"So are you gonna tell me what hell is up with you or are you just gonna hide in there for the rest of the damn night?" He spoke and shattered the tense silence, his voice filled with infantile sarcasm.

The blonde poked her head around the bathroom door; toothpaste smeared around her mouth, and gave him a 'Don't even start with me' glare. The sort of glare her 'Uncle' had perfected and used with deadly accuracy. Sherry's version might've been less potent, but it could still stop a man in his tracks at fifty paces even with a toothpaste beard. It certainly worked on Steve.

Okay, that came out a lot pissier than I intended it too, but at least I got her attention.

"What?" He shot back defensively and returned the glare the best he could.

Sherry said nothing; instead she merely shook her head and returned to the bathroom to rinse her mouth out.

The red head let out a frustrated growl and sat up on the bed, making sure the covers were still tightly wrapped around him. He'd be damned if he froze to death just on her ladyship's behalf.

"Come on Sherry! What's the big fucking deal? Why won't you just tell me already?"

However his demand was met with only more silence. Fine, I'll try something else…

"Is it something to do with Umbrella?" He asked.

No reply.

"Is it something to do with Wesker?"

Still nothing.

"Did I do something wrong?" Steve cursed under his breath and clenched his teeth in sheer frustration. Was she ever going to say a god damned word? "Seriously are you, like, dying or something?"

That seemed to do the trick.

"Steve!" Sherry finally cried out and threw her hands above her head frantically as she exited the bathroom. She stared at him, eyes no longer pissed or annoyed. Instead there were just tired and worn out. Her shoulders sagged as she shook her head slowly, her long blonde hair covering her exhausted expression. She seemed so much older then. The woman turned to him and begged. "Look, why can't you just drop it? I've told you it's nothing, okay? Nothing! I swear! I just need to-."

"'Check something out?' Right, I know you told me already!" He bit out irritably. "And I would've dropped it a while ago if you weren't acting so god damn crazy! Seriously what the hell is going on with you Sherry? Christ, you've got me thinking some seriously fucked up things! But hey, why would you care?"

"Steve…" She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. Her voice was barely a whisper and filled with something he wasn't sure of. "I'm sorry okay. Of course I care. I care a lot, but…"

"Then what? What is so bad that you can't tell me? Come on Sherry, after everything we've been through, after everything that's happened!" He pleaded softly and hoped that this time he had gotten through to her. "Please…"

However Sherry didn't respond. Instead her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes fell to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with him. She looked almost ashamed of something, as if she had done something wrong. Had he been right? Was she really planning on leaving him?

For the second time that evening, his heart gave a painful lurch and his face fell. That wasn't the answer he had hoped for. Even though she had neither confirmed nor denied it, to his paranoia filled mind her silence had spoke volumes. Steve had put two and two together and he didn't like the answer, in fact it had hurt. A lot more than he thought it would. Steve felt his temper flare and his control begin to slip. He knew he should try to keep calm, for both their sakes and the people around them. But he having been on edge for far too long, it was hard to hold back.

"I see, so that's how is it? You don't want to be around my sorry mutated, screwed up ass anymore right?" He snarled.

Sherry's head snapped up, eyes wide and genuinely shocked. Disbelief had planted itself firmly on her face, her mouth agape. She had even begun to shake she was so upset.

"What?" She stuttered unable to even string a simple sentence together she was that stunned by Steve's cutting remark. It had really been a low blow. "That's so not true and you know it! I… I - I would never-! How could you even think I would-?"

"Then why the hell won't you tell me why the fuck we are in Colorado, and what the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled.

Steve growled and felt aggravation pulse through him. Sherry had pushed his patience far enough and now his darker instincts were beginning to take over; his body literally itched for a fight. It was just as well it was cold, otherwise 'Steve-Zilla' might have already made an appearance.

"Fuck this! Look if you want me gone fine, but just fuckin' say so, 'cause to be honest with you dragging me half way across the country to dump me in some snowed up hell hole is the wrong way to go about it."

"Excuse me?" She said incredulously her face still red only this time more out of anger than something else. " Drag you here? I have never dragged you anywhere! How dare you make me out like I'm the bad person here! You're the one who complained all the way here, you're the one who teased me and berated me every damn minute we were in that god damn truck! "

"That's only 'cause you wouldn't say a god damn word to me!"

"So what? That gives you the right to say whatever the hell you want? You know what, moan all you want, but you chose to come with me. You could've stayed behind you know!" The blonde hissed out. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Yeah, and maybe I should've!" He spat and before he knew something far worse wormed it's way out of his mouth. "Hell, maybe I should've stayed in that lab, because anything is better than this!"

He instantly regretted his incredibly poor choice of words, as Steve witnessed the blonde's face fall.

Both fell into a difficult, heavy silence as they stared at each other, wide eyed and hurt.

"Sherry…" He began, his voice nothing but a low whisper. Fearing anything louder would only make things worse. It didn't seem to work, as the blonde had already closed down again. Her face became un-nervingly calm and her eyes went blank. She started to pull her hair into a loose ponytail.

"It doesn't matter." She muttered absently, refusing to look at him.

"Sherry, I didn't mean it…" He trailed off and tried to figure out how to get out of the hell he had found himself in.

"No, it's fine."

The woman picked up her laptop case, which she almost dropped because of her shaking hands, the keys to the truck and headed for the door. She turned to Steve briefly and smiled stiffly, her eyes fixed firmly on the space just above the older B.O.W.S head.

"I'm going to see if I can pick up a connection anywhere around here, just…just go to bed and we'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"

"Shit! Sher…" He pleaded, whilst wishing a big black hole would appear in the ceiling and swallow him up whole.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears, as Sherry opened the door and let herself slip through; she stopped before the door slammed it self shut. Steve felt a spark of hope that the blonde would stay and talk this through. However all hope was dashed when she spoke.

"Oh, and by the way you're melting." She added quietly, before closing the door.

The tyrant blinked and touched his fingers the side of his face, and inspected them. The tips were stained with the slick skin coloured residue of his camouflage.

Shit!

The redhead snarled and collapsed down onto the bed with an amazingly loud 'thump'.

Yes the world really does hate me…

He let his red eyes study the horrid tobacco stained textured ceiling for another minute in the hopes that black hole he had prayed for earlier would make a show, and when it didn't he let out a strangled roar. His outburst made the light fittings in the room shake, and when he had quite finished only one thought ran through his mind.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

A few miles west of the motel, the blonde sat idly in the cab of her truck. It was so cold Sherry could see her breath exit her mouth in ghostly puffs. She knew her teeth should be chattering, but they weren't. She didn't feel the cold the same way Steve did or anyone else for that matter.

The perks of being related to people who liked playing God I guess…

Sitting there, she felt strands of guilt quicken through her body like mercury. Her stomach churned. She felt terrible about her fight with Steve. After all, it wasn't actually his fault.

She bit her lip.

It had been hard to believe, but years of patient digging had finally paid off. Sherry had found what they had been looking for. And now she knew for certain, the proof was right in front of her.

Finally she could make good on her promise.

She smiled bitterly, as she started up the engine and headed back to the motel. Her heart heavy, as if it had been lined with lead.

I'm keeping my promise Steve...even if it kills me.

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