This fic was inspired by Brad Paisley's Song, Whiskey Lullaby.

Italics are memories.

Enjoy!

July 1, 2013

"Piers! Goddammit! Open the goddamn door!"

Chris yelled loudly, hitting the glass of the pod he was trapped in as hard as he could. It would not crack no matter how hard he continued to hit it. He didn't care. He would keep trying. He was not about to leave without Piers. They were going to get out of this place alive, together.

"Piers, don't do this! We can still make it out of here!"

Still, Piers did not listen. Piers was ignoring his Captain's yelling. He was going to get him out of there, while he was still himself and not the monster he was quickly becoming. He grabbed the lever that would send Chris off. His breathing labored. He had to hurry.

"This is an order dammit! Open the door!"

Chris begged.

"Piers! Piers Please!"

Piers closed his eyes for a brief moment. He had to do this. He wasn't about to put the Captain, his Captain in danger. He had to do this so Chris would be safe. Safe from him. Why couldn't Chris see that?

The ex-sniper pulled the lever down, moving so he could look at his Captain. He had to look at him one last time.

Chris placed his hands on the glass, watching his Sniper.

"Please. . ." He said quietly, almost broken.

Piers responded with a small smile, his signature smile.

The pod departed.

"NO!"

Chris yelled as loud as he could.

He had failed.

January 1, 2014 - 6 Months later

Chris took a long drag of his cigarette before putting it out. He exhaled the smoke slowly.

There was noise of others chatting amongst themselves around him.

Chris had been sitting at a booth at his favorite bar. The bar he had been in when he met Piers. When he could not remember a single thing.

The smell of Whiskey was coming heavily from his mouth. He was clearly very intoxicated. Yet, he continued to drink from the bottle that he had ordered. He wasn't about to stop either.

Chris drank what was left in his bottle of whiskey, it being only a few drops. He frowned before raising an arm, about to order more.

"Chris!"

He instantly put his arm down, immediately looking around for the source from where his name was being called from.

Jill was standing a few feet from Chris' booth, hands on her hips.

Figures.

Chris could never really get too drunk because Jill always came around before he got the chance.

"What the hell, Chris! What have I told you?! You never listen to me! Hell, if I wasn't here, you wouldn't be able to get your ass home!"

Jill exclaimed with a frown.

Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised. This is where she found Chris, ninety percent of the time. If he wasn't at work, he was here at the bar, drinking himself to death.

She sighed before taking a seat across from him in the booth.

Ever since Chris had returned from that mission in Landshiang, China, alone, he wasn't the same. Even when the B.S.A.A had rescued him from the pod he had been found in, on the ocean's surface. He had been silent.

When he returned, sure he had stayed in the B.S.A.A as a Captain, but he wasn't the same old Chris Redfield she knew. The Best Friend she knew was long gone. Chris never smiled anymore. He wouldn't laugh. He was always drinking to the point where he wouldn't make sense when he spoke and he couldn't walk worth shit.

She always had to take him home and make sure he would stay put.

"I'm a grown man, Jill! I don't need you tellin' me when I should stop drinkin'!" Chris said, his words slurred.

Jill rolled her eyes.

"Well you're acting like a child! So I think I have the right!" Jill said back.

Chris sighed, he was quickly becoming annoyed with this conversation.

"What do you want, Jill?"

"It isn't about what I want, Chris. You're my Best Friend and I think I also have the right to worry about you."

"Well don't. I'm fine, Jill."

"Fine? Chris, you are NOT fine. Look at you! Drinking like this and smoking a pack of cigarettes in one sitting, is not good for you!"

Chris scoffed.

Jill let out a small grunt of frustration.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?!"

This time, Chris rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit about how much I smoke or drink. You know I don't."

"Well you should. I swear, Chris. One of these days i'm going to kick you in the face for being so goddamn stubborn. Piers wouldn't have wanted this for you."

Chris stood up suddenly, quickly regretting it since he felt sick. He shook his head and started walking off.

"Leave me alone, Jill. Goddamn! What does it take to get some privacy around this town?"

Chris stormed off.

Jill watched Chris walk off. With a sigh, she stood up also. She knew that the comment about Piers upset him, but he needed to hear it.

"I'll give him time to cool off. It's no use talking to him when he gets like that." She sighed.

Chris sighed quietly to himself as he made his way home. He stumbled every so often but that was to be expected since he was basically drunk. Not the drunk that he wanted to be, but almost there. He usually drunk to the point where he couldn't really remember a single thing. He didn't think about work, he didn't think about Jill and her worrying about him. He didn't think about. . . Piers.

He was half way to his apartment, when his mind started to wander.

"You know? I figured you'd be a little rusty, but it looks like all that training is kicking right in, Captain." Piers said, almost as if he was teasing Chris.

Chris rolled his eyes, looking back at his Ace.

"I'm Chris Redfield. You think I would forget how to fight so easily?" Chris said back, jokingly.

"Wow, didn't think you'd be so conceited either." Piers smirked.

"I can be." Chris smirked back.

He may be older than most of Alpha Team, but he wasn't too shabby when it came to fighting.

Chris blinked when the memory flooded his head. He held his head, the alcohol was starting to wear off.

He hurried to his apartment, opening the door. He locked the door behind him.

Chris walked to the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets. He reached in, pulling out a half empty bottle of whiskey. He planned on drinking it all, so no need for a glass.

Bottle of whiskey in hand, he walked to his bedroom, locking that door also. He didn't lock his bedroom often, unless he really wanted to be alone. He sat on the floor by his bed, already downing the whiskey. He lazily wiped his lips with the back of his hand after the first long drink.

He closed his eyes. He was hurting. Chris was always hurting.

He put the bottle back to his lips, taking another long drink of the alcohol.

"When we get back, Piers. I'm turning in my gun." Chris said, seriously.

"What?! No! You can't Captain! The B.S.A.A needs you! You created the B.S.A.A! You are the B.S.A.A! We need you!" Piers said quickly.

"I want you to take my place." Chris said softly.

Piers blinked, a small blush on his cheeks. The responsibilty was big but he knew he could do it, if he wanted. He didn't want it. That would mean Chris would retire and he wouldn't be able to see him anymore.

"I. . . I don't think i'm ready for that responsibilty, Chris."

"Sure you are. You're one hell of a soldier! There's no way you can't take on this job." Chris smiled.

Piers' head shot up, turning his head so the older man wouldn't see the embarrassing color to his face.

"Chris. . ."

Chris chugged the rest of the whiskey, his eyes shut tightly. More memories of Piers began to flood his head. The alcohol was no longer doing what he had hoped it would do.

Piers' breathing was quick and labored. He was letting out clear noises of discomfort as the electricity from his arm shot up and down.

"G-go Chris. . ."

"No Piers. We're both going to get out of here alive dammit."

"B-But. . . Cap-" Piers started to say.

"No. We're getting out of here. Together. You understand? No one gets left behind. Not on my watch." Chris said, stopping Piers, mid-sentence.

He held onto Piers for dear life. He wasn't about to leave. Not without his sniper.

Chris could feel the tears starting to sting his eyes, behind his closed eyelids. He quickly opened them. He tried to stand, that obviously wasn't working.

"It was all my fault. . . goddammit why was I so. . . so reckless?" Chris said in an almost whisper.

He managed to get on his knees, grabbing onto the side of the bed. He pulled the covers down some, but he didn't care. Chris was finally able to get on his bed. Chris found that the tears that were stinging his eyes, were now threatening to run down his cheeks.

It was silent for a few minutes. The silence interrupted by the sound of some paper rustling. Chris had grabbed a piece of paper that was laying on his bedside table. He took a moment to scribble some stuff down.

Once he was finished, he set it on the pillow next to the one he was laying on.

What was he thinking? Obviously what he was thinking about doing was far from smart. More stupid than anything really. He didn't care. He knew what he wanted.

He reached over to his bedside table again, reaching into the drawer this time. He pulled out a handgun he had there that he would use for emergencies if he needed it.

Chris pulled the gun up to his head, closing his eyes.

". . .I'm sorry, Piers." He whispered.

He pulled the trigger.

It was about an hour since Chris had left. Jill figured that was enough time. Surely it wouldn't take more than that to cool off.

"Let's see if that jerk can finally take in some sense." Jill muttered to herself.

It didn't take her long to get to Chris' apartment since she decided to take her car instead of walking there. Jill knocked on the door. She waited a few moments before turning the knob.

Locked.

She let out a sigh, she figured he would lock it.

Jill looked around, hopefully he still kept a spare out here. She dug around in some plants then saw the door mat. She lifted it some and saw a key. Of course.

She unlocked the door, finding that the living room was empty. So he wasn't here. She checked everywhere else but the bedroom. She had a feeling he was there but decided to check there last, just in case.

Jill tried to turn the bedroom door knob. She frowned, finding that it was locked. Strange, Chris may have been pissed, but he wouldn't lock the door. He probably got a hold of more alcohol.

"Chris. Open the door." Jill said.

Silence.

"Chris. I'm being serious. Open the stupid door."

Still nothing but silence.

She let out a sigh.

"I'll kick down the door, Chris! You know I will! I'll give you til' the count of three."

Nothing.

"One. . .Two. . ."

She huffed at the other's lack of words.

"Don't say I didn't warn you! Three!" She yelled before kicking down the door.

She looked around, arching a brow when she saw Chris. He was face down in his pillow. He must have fallen asleep.

"You're going to suffocate like that." She said with a sigh.

Jill started to make her way over to Chris, he obviously wasn't going to turn himself since he was asleep. She stopped mid-step, her eyes widening when she saw all the blood. Now that she was closer, she could see it.

"CHRIS!" She screamed.

Chris looked so peaceful, almost as if he were only asleep. Jill was standing by his casket, tears running down her cheeks. She was holding a crying Claire Redfield.

Everyone had arrived for the Legendary Chris Redfield's funeral. Leon S. Kennedy, Sheva Alomar, even Ada Wong came. Every B.S.A.A member came, to remember Chris.

Once everyone had settled, Jill walked to the podium, wanting to say a few words. She wiped her tears, clearing her breath.

"Chris Redfield. . . He was. . . He was a great man. My Best Friend since the Raccoon City incident. He was committed to his work and to his co-workers. His goal in life was to make sure that the world stayed safe from bioterrorism. It is disheartening to see him leave us so soon. . . He will be missed dearly by everyone here." She paused to wipe some tears. ". . .He left a note behind, the night he died. I will read it now." She opened a folded piece of paper.

"I'm sorry, Claire. I'm sorry, Jill. I'm sorry to all my friends. I couldn't take this pain inside me anymore. I have been an empty shell of a man ever since Piers Nivans died. He was important to me. I tried so hard to forget him. . . but I just. . . I couldn't. If only I had been more careful. . . maybe he. . . he would have came back with me. I was reckless. . . it's all my fault that he died. Without him, I can't see myself living anymore. I love him. I will always love him, even after I die here. Goodbye."

Claire was sobbing as she listened to Jill, Jill finding it difficult not to sob either. The room went quiet. Some had predicted such an end.

July 1, 2014 - 6 Months later

Jill was in her office, signing some paperwork. Ever since Chris Redfield passed, it seemed that she had more work on her hands. Perhaps it was for the best though. It distracted her.

She let out a sigh as she finished signing another document. How many more of these did she have left? A glance to her left to a stack of papers answered her question. Jill put her face in her hands, she could feel a headache coming on.

"Isn't there someone who has a question or something like that so I have something else other than this to keep me busy?" She asked herself.

As if by coincidence, the phone rang, almost scaring Jill.

She quickly answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Ms. Jill Valentine?"

"Yes. This is she. Who is this?"

"Oh. Hello, I am a doctor from the Lanshiang Hospital. I am calling on behalf of a patient of mine."

Jill arched a brow, looking at the phone. What does a patient from all the way in China have to do with her?

"Uhm. . . what is this patient's name?" She asked slowly.

"My patient's name is Piers Nivans."

Jill's eyes widened. Piers? There was no way.

"Is this some kind of sick joke? Piers Nivans is an ex-sniper from the B.S.A.A. that died on one of the missions we sent him on." She half yelled into the phone.

"Yes yes, I know this information and no this is not a joke. If you like I can hand the phone to him." The doctor said.

"Fine! Put him on the phone!" She frowned.

There was some shuffling heard on the line and some faint speaking. Finally, someone answered.

"Hello?" The voice asked.

In that instant, Jill's heart dropped. That voice. . .

". . .Piers? Is that you. . . Piers?" She asked, beyond surprised.

More shuffling was heard and the doctor was back on the phone.

"I assure you, this is no joke at all. I have called because he wishes to return to the United States. He has been here since July 1 of 2013. We found him in terrible shape on a nearby coast. We just gave him the O.K. to go back. If you accept, we will have him on a plane by tomorrow."

"Yes! Yes of course! I will make arrangements here! Thank you very much!" She said excitedly.

"Then it is settled. Thank you." The doctor said before hanging up.

The next day, Jill had woken up early. She could barely sleep the night before. All this seemed like some dream, too good to be true.

She arrived at the airport early. The private plane that was bringing Piers Nivans was to be here soon. She was pacing back and forth.

She stopped once she saw the plane land. Jill hurried over to the plane once the plane's steps had been put down. Jill put her hands together, watching the door.

A moment passed before Piers Nivans finally emerged.

Jill instantly smiled.

Piers walked down the steps, a single suitcase in his hand. He smiled only slightly when he saw Jill. He seemed to be searching for something else.

Once he was at the bottom, he recieved a tight hug from Jill. He hugged back some since it was rather strange. He had never actually been close to Jill. He looked around, still looking for something.

Jill looked Piers up and down. He looked normal. The only thing he had that made him stand out the slightest bit was the eye patch over one of his eyes, some scars on his cheek, and the bandage that covered one of his arms. That arm in a sling.

"Look at you, Piers. It doesn't even look like you were ever infected at all!" She said excitedly.

Piers only smiled slightly again.

"Yeah. . . the doctors in Lanshiang did a great job." He said, still kind of distracted.

Jill arched a brow, looking at the ex-sniper.

"Where's the Cap-. . . uhm. . . Chris?" Piers finally managed to ask.

Jill had expected this. She looked rather sad but she didn't say a thing. She smiled again.

"I will explain everything once we get back to HQ, soldier." She simply said.

Piers arched a brow but went along with it.

"Alright."

The drive to HQ had not been boring in the least. Jill managed to ask so many questions about his time in Lanshiang and things of that such.

Once they were at HQ, Piers and Jill exited the car, making their way inside.

They were welcomed from just about every one from the B.S.A.A. They were cheering, cheering for Piers.

Piers' eyes widened at the cheers.

Jill smiled, joining in the cheers. After a bit though she finally spoke up.

"It's a welcome back party. Welcome back, soldier." She said brightly.

Piers could only smile.

The ex-sniper was silent on the way to Jill's office. She had promised to tell him everything. He had hoped to at least see Chris at the party. He gripped his bandaged arm. Maybe he was angry. Angry because Piers had done what he had done to keep Chris safe. Is that why he wasn't there when he arrived, or at the party?

Jill looked back at Piers, making sure he was still there since he had been so quiet.

They finally arrived at her office. She let Piers in first before following him in and closing the door behind her.

"Take a seat, Piers." She said. She had been dreading this moment.

She was making her way over to one of the chairs when Piers finally spoke up.

"Is he mad?" Piers said finally.

"What?" Jill asked.

"Is. . . Is Chris mad at me? For what I did? I had to. . . I didn't know if I could control myself. I know it was stupid and it was a kamikaze stunt but-!" Piers blurted out.

"No. . . He wasn't mad. Just. . . Piers take a seat." She said again.

Piers slowly sat down, Jill sitting in the chair next to him. Piers didn't like the look on Jill's face. She looked so. . . so sad.

"Piers. What i'm about to tell you. . . it'll be hard to understand but I need you to listen. . . okay?" She said slowly.

Piers watched her closely, what was so bad that she was hesitating like this?

"Okay. . ." Piers said quietly.

"Piers. . . He-" She started to say.

"He retired didn't he?" He said with a frown. "I told him not to! He just doesn't lis-" Piers continued.

"No! I mean. . . No. He didn't retire. Piers. He's dead." She finally whispered.

Piers blinked, not comprehending what she had just said. Wait. . . what? He was dead? Piers shook his head.

"Wait. . . I think I heard you wrong. Did you say he was dead?"

"Yes. Piers, i'm sorry. . ."

"How about you quit pulling my leg already! It's not funny joking like that! I don't care if Chris told you to do it-"

"I'm not lying or joking, Piers. Why would I joke like this?"

"I don't know! Don't sit there and tell me he's fucking dead!" Piers said, standing up quickly.

"Piers, sit down! Listen!" She yelled.

"No! You're fucking lying and i'm not standing here and listening to it!" He yelled back before breaking into a sprint.

He ran to Chris' office. There was no way. How the hell was he dead? He opened the door only to find the office empty and dusty. Most of everything was boxed up and on the desk. No. He only ended up running, this time out of HQ. He ran as fast as his legs could take him. He had to get there, to show Jill that she was mistakened. He had to get to Chris' apartment.

Piers finally made it to Chris' apartment. He opened the door, it slamming against the wall.

"Chris! Chris! Where are you?! It's Piers!" Piers yelled into the empty dark apartment.

He ran to every room, to every possible location that he could go to. He left the bedroom for last. He slowly opened the door, peering inside. He could feel tears in his eyes, even from the eye behind the eyepatch that was once infected. The realization hit him hard. His office, his apartment, they were left untouched. Chris Redfield wasn't here.

The tears rolled down the ex-sniper's cheeks. The only thing that was not moved from Chris' bedroom was the bed. He sat on the edge of it.

Jill was standing at the door, having followed him there.

"I'm sorry, Piers. . ." She said quietly.

July 1, 2015 - 1 year later

Piers stumbled into the apartment that he had been living in all this time, Chris' old apartment. The smell of whiskey, heavy on his breath. He had a bottle in his hand that he had brought back from the bar he had been sitting in for the past few hours.

He stumbled over to the couch, basically tripping and falling onto it. He dropped the bottle, it shattering on the ground.

Jill walked in, moments later.

"There you are. I was looking for you. I had to make sure that you didn't get hurt getting here." She said, looking at Piers on the couch.

"I told you I was fine." He slurred.

Jill sighed, feeling a slight sense of Dejavu while talking to Piers.

Ever since Piers had found out that Chris had died, he had taken Chris' habit of drinking. He too not caring about what would happen if he continued like this.

"I'm sorry Piers. . ." Jill whispered.

There was a brief moment of silence before Piers spoke up once again.

"How. . ." He started to say.

"How what?" Jill asked.

"How did. . . Chris die. . ?" He asked, afraid of the answer.

"Chris. . . He commited suicide." Jill said quietly.

Piers felt a stab at his heart.

"Why. . .?"

"Piers-. . ."

"WHY?" Piers yelled.

Jill knew that he wouldn't be satisfied with just any answer. She had to tell him or he would probably ask someone else. She let out a sigh.

"He missed you. He couldn't live without you, Piers."

There was another stab to his heart. Jill thought it would be easier if he read the note Chris left behind for himself. She looked though a few things, finding the note. She slowly handed it to Piers.

Piers took the note, his hands shaking. He read it, only to drop it after. Tears continued to roll down the ex-sniper's eyes.

"He killed himself. . . he did it because of me. . . it's all my fault." He choked out.

"No, Piers. It isn't your fault!"

"I'm fine, Jill."

"Piers-" Jill started to say.

"I said, i'm fine!" Piers snapped.

He felt bad after doing it but he just couldn't help it. He didn't want to be pitied.

Jill sighed, just like Chris, she couldn't get a word in when Piers was like this. She would give him a while.

"Fine. I'll be back soon. Maybe by then you will be a little more sober and I can get some sense into you." She sighed before walking out.

Piers shook his head, getting up off the couch. He stumbled to the bedroom, closing the door. He locked it. He just needed to be alone right now.

Piers laid on the bed, curling up some. He could feel tears starting to build up in his eyes. He reached under the pillow, pulling out a card. His eyes locking with the card. It was Chris Redfield's I.D. He felt those tears running down his cheeks as he looked at his Captain's face.

"Captain. . . Chris. . . I'm so sorry. . . It's all my fault you died." He whispered outloud.

He held the I.D. close, it being the only time he could be close to his Captain.

His eyes closed as he thought silently to himself. Oh how he missed his Captain.

His eyes finally opened, his vision blurry from the still present tears. He made up his mind. It was a stupid idea, but he wouldn't back out now. He pressed his lips to the I.D. before reaching under his pillow again. This time, he pulled out a handgun. The same handgun Chris had taken his life with. He had found it under the bed when he moved into the apartment.

"I'm so sorry, Chris. . . I love you. . . wait for me. . . okay?" He said quietly.

He put the gun to his head.

Jill was waiting outside the apartment. She hadn't really left, knowing she couldn't leave Piers alone for long. He tended to do stupid things if she did. She had been sitting on the porch steps when she heard a loud gunshot. Her eyes widened.

"Oh God!" She said before running into the house.

She ran into the bedroom, stopping immediately when she saw Piers face down in his pillow.

Not again. Please, not again.

She slowly took a few steps closer, closing her eyes when she saw the blood.

It happened again. How the hell could she let it happen again?

Jill placed a hand on Piers' casket. Just like Chris, he too looked so peaceful. As if he too had been asleep. Her eyes traveled down to Piers' hands. Even in death, he was clutching Chris' I.D. She had asked the ones who took Piers to prepare him for the funeral to leave it in his hands.

"Rest in peace, Piers. . ."

Piers was buried next to Chris. He was buried there because he deserved to be buried next to Chris, his Captain.

Jill had stayed behind once the funeral was over. She was standing before both Chris and Piers. She still had tears in her eyes but she was smiling.

"Now you two can be happy. I wish it had been here, with both of you alive."

She closed her eyes.

A moment or so later, Jill started to hum quietly. She was humming a familiar melody.

Jill watched as Chris finally fell asleep. She was sitting at the edge of his bed. He had been reluctant to have her there since he had been crying. Chris Redfield never cried. He never let anyone see him cry anyway. But Jill was his Best Friend. She wasn't about to leave him alone.

Jill hummed quietly, a gentle melody, it sounding like a lullaby, to lull the older man to sleep. It seemed silly, but it seemed to be working.

He was finally asleep, relaxed.

She smiled quietly, petting his head only once.

Jill continued to hum quietly.

Piers reminded her of Chris, when it came to stubborness anyway. He was out drinking again. She could obviously smell it on his breath. Piers cried more easily than Chris though. It always seemed that he would remember Chris more when he was drunk. He drank to forget.

Jill was sitting on the edge of the bed Piers was sleeping on. Chris' bed. He wanted to be alone but Jill wasn't having it.

Instead, she hummed.

Piers was confused to why she was doing so but found that the melody was soothing him.

Eventually he ended up falling asleep.

Jill smiled, lightly petting Piers' head once, just like she would do to Chris.

Jill stopped humming. She felt the need to do it before she left.