"And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?"

The grass was damp under Chris Redfield's feet as he walked across the cemetery. It was drizzling lightly, and the drops of water were cool against his skin. Exactly one year to the day had passed since the last time he walked this grass. Coincidence was never something the soldier believed in, but on that day one year it ago it had been raining. Why did it always seem to be raining for these things. One year exactly since he had stood in a tight new suit, with his hands behind his back. The fact wasn't that he had purposely ignored coming here; the fact was he was just afraid. Afraid that coming here was accepting that she was dead and he couldn't do that. There wasn't a single part of him that would ever truly be able to do that.

He passed row after row of headstones, all varying heights and shades of grey stone. The path was made of lose pebbles and dirt, which had puddles every few steps due to the drizzle. Despite only having been here once he knew exactly where he was going,remembering every step - every thought he'd had that day. Chris was not allowing any thoughts to invade the inner silence he had created for himself. The walk continued until he got to the small divide in the path causing him to hesitate. He paused and sighed to himself, reaching up and wiping the rain drops from his forehead with the back of his hand. It was a cool, damp day and the sky was a murky grey with thick ominous clouds threatening a never ending drizzle of water. A light wind rustled the leaves in the trees and brushed through Chris's hair causing him to squint his blue eyes as the wind blew the rainy drizzle into them. Taking a breath he walked forwards,going down the path a short ways then veering off of it and walking through the grass, taking care not to tread on any graves. He was dressed in civilian clothing; dark grey jeans, and a white t-shirt that clung to his chest and arms. Though it was breezy, he was without a jacket. He could barely even feel the cold.

He looked down at some of the other headstones as he walked reading the names and dates on them. Most were well kept with flowers and ribbons adorning the stone. One headstone had a wine glass in front of it, another, a bouquet of roses, long since dead. For some inexplicable reason, seeing these tokens of love made a wave of sadness overcome Chris. He looked away and drew a shaky breath. Regret tugged at the edge of his mind for not making the trip to the floral shop, as though without fresh flowers in his hand or a token of love, he wasn't welcome here. He shook the thoughts from his mind as the rows of headstones ended. The reason for the long walk lay just ahead of him.

Her stone was in the middle of a small clearing. A small cherry tree with bright pink leaves grew off to the side. Sitting beside the tree and clear of any weeds, the grass well kept and cared for. The memory of this place was vivid when he had seen it exactly a year ago. His thoughts had been vaguely how beautiful it was; that she would have loved it. people dressed in black and turning to look at him with looks of deepest sympathy and sorrow upon their faces.

A pause at the edge of the clearing. He stared, hard, at the single gravestone, clenching his teeth together. Chris remembered the day, exactly one year ago, when he had attended the funeral of his partner Jill Valentine.

Slowly drawing a quivering breath, Chris took a few steps forward and thankful he was by himself. Walking through the parted aisle of people had been too much to bear. His shoes sunk into the damp grass, a sweet scent greeting him from the tree. A breeze went by rustling his hair, as he came to a stop just in front of the headstone. Crouching down and kneeling in the grass tenderly, his brows furrowed together and he reached forward tracing his fingers over the engraved letters.

In Loving Memory
Jillian Valentine
1974 - 2006

Chris' chin quivered, and he tightened his jaw refusing to give in to the emptiness he felt; the refusal to believe she was gone. They had never found her body. A three month search had been put in place after the incident at the Spencer Estate, and even after they failed to find a single trace of her Chris had refused to stop looking. He would never stop looking; not until he had gotten an answer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the dog-tag he had kept for so long. Looking down at it, he saw his own face reflected in the silver surface. B.S.A.A. was engraved on the front. Turning the small necklace over in his hand, touching his thumb over 'Valentine' engraved on the back. Hearing her voice vaguely in his mind, taking him back to that night...

'...crap, the stupid chain broke. Here, can you keep this in your pocket...'

...remembered her handing it to him. This was before they had even arrived at the mansion. Of course she had thought everything would be alright; so had he. How could they have known... Chris closed his eyes and saw a flash. Remembered pain; remembered being lifted off the ground, knowing what was coming. Remembered struggling and hearing her cry out, "No!". Remembered being dropped; the sound of glass shattering, of wind and rain. Everything after that was a blur; his frantic yelling, running back to the door, leaving the estate, struggling against the wind and rain, calling her name, praying that somehow, someway she had survived. How the rescue team had begun with such urgency, and how as the months had gone on, that urgency had ebbed into nothing. He opened his eyes, looking from the dog-tag to the headstone. Gently and carefully, he reached out and pushed the dirt aside at the stone's base, placing the tag down. With forced strength, he looked up at the stone again. Everyone had given up on her. How easy it was for them all to just accept that she was gone. Chris didn't. Chris wouldn't. Not on Jill; he would never give up on Jill. She was his partner, and his closest friend. She was everything to him, and he knew he would never stop until the day he died. He would never stop looking for her, not ever.

"You aren't dead, Jill. I know you aren't." Chris said softly, touching his fingers to the engraving once again. His heart skipped a painful beat, and it felt as though his lungs were constricting. "I would feel it if you were really gone. And I can feel that you aren't dead." He felt warm tears form in his eyes, and clenched his teeth together to hold them back. Crying meant she was gone for good, and that was not the case. He closed his eyes, forcing the tears back.

"You're just lost. And I swear, I will find you. I'll bring you back to me, Jill. I promise."