All right! Here's another one-shot I decided to type up! It's about Krauser and what he could have been thinking before and during the infamous helicopter crash that apparently "killed" him. THis is what I think could have happened. With that in mind, don't forget to read, review, and enjoy! :)

WARNING: Two warnings. 1) Although I have never played Darkside Chronicles, there are still spoilers from that game, as well as RE4, and 2) there is some content towards the end that might be a little disturbing.

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to Capcom.

Italics- Flashbacks

Everything seemed to play in his head over and over again. All Jack Krauser could see in front of him were fragments of what had happened in Amparo, and as he sat back in his helicopter, he closed his eyes and remembered…

As did most traumas, physical, mental, or emotional, things seemed to move in slow motion before they actually happened. He was fighting against a BOW with Leon Kennedy and Manuela Hidalgo when his life had changed forever.

At first, everything seemed all right, but then, the BOW had gotten angry and shot a spear out of its side. "Look out!" Krauser heard Javier's daughter cry from far away, but he couldn't move. Shooting another bullet out of his handgun, he watched helplessly as the spear moved towards him, and he knew there was nothing else he could do to stop it.

First, the spear had shot through his arm, and then, the intense pain had begun. "Ahh!" the soldier cried, stumbling back a little bit.

"Krauser!" Leon shouted, unleashing his full handgun fury on the BOW that had hurt his partner. Manuela just watched in shocked silence as the two men shot the amphibious BOW, with Krauser using his uninjured arm to shoot his handgun. With their combined efforts, they managed to kill the beast. Once that was over, all Krauser could think about was the throbbing pain in his arm. Yanking the spear out of his joint, he clutched his arm and winced.

"Are you all right?" Leon asked, running over to the larger man.

"It's nothing," Krauser insisted, even though the pain was too much to handle. He felt weak, which he hated the most; after finding out about Leon's elite mission from the President, he had felt resentment. He was clearly expendable in the government's eyes. And with a wound like this, no way in hell were they going to allow him back into the field.

Krauser remained silent as Leon wrapped a tourniquet around his arm. He knew he couldn't go on with an impaled arm; he would surely die. He hated that as well.

"Say," the helicopter driver piped up from the cockpit, "Where did you say you were going again?"

Placing his red beret over his forehead, Krauser just gazed at the cheerful man in the front, but he didn't say a word. What could he say? Would this man believe him?

More thoughts rushed back to him as he remembered the epic fight against Javier Hidalgo himself. The madman had merged with the Veronica Virus. He had tried to kill them all. Jack Krauser had been at his weakest point, but then, something else happened that he wouldn't forget…

Somewhere in the middle of the fight, Krauser had collapsed to the ground. His arm was bleeding again, and he was wondering whether or not he should just allow Javier to kill him, to end the pain. He couldn't go on like this. Where was Leon Kennedy when he actually needed him?

Suddenly, to his right, he saw something flash, and when he looked up, there was Manuela Hidalgo, clutching her previously bandaged arm and running towards her father. No! he thought, What the hell is she doing? She's going to get herself killed!

"Manuela, no!" he heard Leon cry, and soon, the government agent was tackling her, stopping her from going on her suicidal rampage. What happened next, however, was unforgettable; Manuela suddenly stood up, closed her eyes, and produced flames from her blood that was leaking onto the ground. As Javier was about to attack the two of them, she leaned forward, held her arm up, and unleashed the powers of the Veronica Virus. The flames shot up around them and caused the ex-drug lord to recoil from the shock. Krauser watched with a look of amazement in his eyes. He had never seen anything quite like that before, and somehow, he didn't think this would be the last time either. Flammable blood? He thought to himself, You've got to be kidding me!

Envy. Jealousy. Krauser remembered feeling both of those emotions during his time with Manuela and Leon. He was envious of Manuela and her power, and he was jealous of Leon because of his connections with the President. It was all too much to handle at that time, so he knew he would have to sort out his emotions once the mission was over.

As the helicopter blades roared above him, he remembered when the three of them had returned to the United States, mostly the helicopter ride out of South America…

"I should have died," Manuela was saying to Leon once they were at a safe distance in the air, "With my father."

Krauser had to feel pity for the young girl. After all, she had felt just as weak and helpless as he did, so he could relate. "No," Leon replied, resting his hand on her shoulder, "No one should have died down there. But now, you've got an obligation to live. For the sake of the girls living inside you." Krauser looked up from the bloody bandage around his arm and couldn't believe what his partner was saying. While Manuela just nodded, the soldier felt angry.

You're cruel, Leon, he thought to himself, Couldn't you make her feel proud? She's got a whole new life ahead of her. Leon looked up at Krauser and smiled, which also made the bigger man's blood boil. After pretty much insulting Javier's daughter, he felt good about completing his mission. How could he? Sure, Krauser returned the smile, but as soon as the government agent looked away, the grin disappeared.

There's nothing left to say. For you and I, Leon…we're merely different sides of the same coin. And it was true.

As soon as the helicopter landed back in the United States, Leon immediately handed Manuela over to the government for testing, and the two agents were taken to the closest hospital. During his examination, Krauser's worst fears were confirmed.

"I'm sorry," the doctor that dressed his wounds apologized, "But with an injury like this, I'm afraid your arm will never heal properly."

Those words broke Krauser's heart more than people thought. "But, I have my place in the army!" he insisted, "I have to fight! For my country!"

"Not with your arm in this condition. I'm sorry, but we have no choice but to discharge you."

Those last two words seemed to echo in the soldier's mind, and it made him want to scream, want to kill someone. I refuse to feel helpless! He thought, Wesker, wherever you are, I'll find you. And I'll ask you for help.

"Mayday! Mayday! My chopper's going down!" the pilot suddenly shouted, and Krauser felt himself snap back to the present. What was happening? How were they almost crashing right now?

Looking around for an instant, Krauser spotted a parachute in the corner, and he immediately grabbed it and strapped it around his arms. "Wait a minute!" the pilot cried, "That's the only one I've got!"

"Tough luck," Krauser replied, saluting before leaping out of the burning helicopter. The air roared around him just before he pulled the strings, opening the parachute and allowing him to sail down to the open field below him. Meanwhile, the burning chopper was spiraling out of control next to him and plummeting to the ground. The smell of smoke reached his nose, but he didn't care. As long as he got what he wanted, that was all that mattered.

Boom! He heard the explosion before he saw the debris. Some of it flew up into the air, scraping Krauser across the face and barely missing his eye. As he landed gently onto the ground, he waited for the explosion to die down before approaching it, casting aside the parachute. He clutched his bleeding face, where he knew the shrapnel that had cut him would leave a permanent scar over his eye. The first thing that caught his eye in the wreckage was the burnt body of the pilot, which suddenly gave Krauser an idea. I don't want anyone to know I'm alive, he decided, Not even Leon Scott fucking Kennedy. That's it. I'll fake my death and then continue to look for Wesker.

Taking out his favorite knife from his pocket, Krauser cut his arm, allowing a little bit of the blood to leak onto it. Once he was finished, he smeared it onto the corpse of the pilot, as well as the fingers, where detectives were bound to take fingerprints. The body was so unrecognizable that Krauser knew his plan would go off without a hitch. Goodbye, old life, he thought, closing his eyes, And hello, Wesker. And with that, he set off once more into the sunset. He would feel whole again; Wesker would help him regain his strength, and soon, he would be a part of an ever-changing world. Then, he would go back and finish off everyone who had wronged him, especially Leon. Oh, especially Leon Kennedy.