I have been... inactive for quite some time now. I have been busy, but I've been having more free time, and I've playing RE5, and have wanting to make this story for quite some time now. The reason for this... I have to get out of my comfort zone. Yes, writing some parts of this will be uncomfortable for me. Buuutttt... as an actor, I've learned that getting out of your comfort zone really helps you. That is why I am writing this.

Romance...? Not quite sure yet. But, if it does happen, Wesker's not gonna be a big teddy bear who says, "I love you," all the time.

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil.

xx

The wind whipped across the woman's face like razor blades. Diving down head first, with Wesker trapped weakly in her arms. Her eyes clenched shut, hoping that her sacrifice was not in vain. Jill's hopes faded away, as Wesker regained control. Using his own strength, he grabbed the woman's arms, and easily tore away from her grip. He watched her figure fall down faster, and Wesker easily got into a position where he could land on his feet.

She looked up before she hit the ground, making sure her companion hadn't fallen after her. She let out a small sigh of relief. She quickly realized her own fate. She saw Wesker's figure above her, seeming calm. Then again, she couldn't tell at this awkward angle. Jill's neck felt like it was going to snap. She tried to position herself not to land on her neck or head.

Jill, however, was not so lucky. Bones began to snap as she hit the ground with a huge thud. She couldn't hold onto him. With every bone breaking in an instant, she let out a pained cry, which didn't echo due to the lightining and wind. Her clothes, tattered. Jill's skin split in different places, the mud causing a stinging sensation throughout her body. Her eyelids began to feel heavy, and she gave into the darkness.

Wesker easily landed on his feet, but not lightly. His knees bent down hard as he hit the ground. It took a moment to regain his senses properly. His boots splattered in mud, and took in everything that just happened.

Jill had thrown herself at him to save Chris. The idiot who had ruined all of his plans had slipped through his hands, yet again. And it was all because of his foolish partner. Wesker clenched his fists at the thought, and growled in frustration.

Wesker tilted his head when he heard a small groan. A few feet away from him, he noticed her. Jill was covered in mud and grass, unable to move, and seemed to be lifeless.

What would he do? Leave her there to die? Or...

The sound of mud being squished beneith the monster of a man's feet was heard, as he approached the lifeless woman. Bending down on knees, he looked at Jill. Glass shards were causing blood to spill out of small wounds from the young woman's face. Grass and mud coated her arms, face, and legs. Rain began to beat down on both Wesker and Jill, causing some mud to slid off. Wesker slid his leather glove off, and placed two fingers on her icey neck.

He felt small beats in her neck. She was still alive!

"You're a foolish one, Miss Valentine," he whispered to himself.

The tyrant took his boot, and placed it on her stomach, intending to crush the woman who had ruined his intentions. As soon as Wesker was about to apply all of his anger, strength, and frustration on the woman below him, he heard a familer voice.

"JIIILLLL!"

Chris.

Wesker almost winced when he heard his voice echo. He looked at Jill, who barely was moving.

"C-Chrisss..." she mumbled weakly.

Thinking of a plan to get back at Chris, Wesker decided that death was not a suitiable punishment. He couldn't kill Jill, then go into hiding. There could be a possible chance he would leave on the brink of death, but Chris could always revive her, and they could ruin his plans once more. He couldn't allow it. And it would only waste time on his hand.

This would also be the perfect change to get back at Chris. Take his precious partner, and use her at his own will.

Shaking his head, Wesker took his boot off the broken woman, and picked her up with a surprisingly gentle hold. With inhuman speed, he took off with the woman in his arms.

Drenched and exhausted, Wesker had made it to a small motel. It did not look like a pleasent stay. The parking lot asphalt had cracks all through them. Small weeds had grown through it. The electric sign outside was sparking, and the paint on the outside of the motel was peeling. Filthy humans couldn't even keep their buildings clean.

When he walked into the door, only one man was behind the desk. A paunchy, middle aged man was sitting there. He had fallen asleep at the desk.

Wesker felt Jill slightly squirm in his grasp. He needed to get her to a locked room, where he could keep an eye on her. The man who had fallen asleep seemed to have woken up when he heard Jill shuffle in Wesker's grasp.

"Yeh need something?" the man asked, sounding drowsy.

"I require a small room," Wesker simply replied, as he walked forward.

The man seemed to be awake more, because he began to look at Jill with concern.

"Oh my God, is she okay?" he asked, looking at Jill's broken form.

"Yes, she has a hangover," Wesker was beginning to get iritiated.

Wesker took one of his hands off Jill to pull some loose change out of his pocket. He tossed it to the man, who merely threw Wesker a key in return.

Carrying the woman down the hall, the tyrant looked at the key number, and found the room. He unlocked the door, and layed Jill down on the bed. Wesker went to the dresser to find some folded clothes that were already in there. One pile had a blank white tee-shirt with grey sweatpants, and socks. They weren't the cleanest clothes, but it was better than what Jill already had on.

"Ugn,"

Jill's eyelids slowly opened as she made a soft groan that caught Wesker's attention.

One thing that caught Jill's attention was the immedete pain shooting through her body. Her ribs ached, her legs felt like heavy stones, everything in her body felt extruciating. She tried to sit up, and when she did, her eyes widened.

"W-Wesker!" she shrieked, but fell on her back in pain.

Wesker strode over to the freightened woman, with no emotions on his face. Jill eyed the man who was now staring at her. He looked at her muddy and broken body.

"Now, Jillian, don't give me that look-"

"Where's Chris? You son of bitch!" Jill shouted angrily, and was now sitting back up.

Chris. That name again. The name of the person who infuriated Wesker the most. Instead of saying anything, he roughly grabbed Jill's chin, and took off his sunglasses.

She stopped. All thoughts of Chris went away instantly. He never seemed so angry. Jill knew, right then and there, Chris shouldn't have been mentioned. The way his eyes burned red... staring right into her. Right into her blue ones.

"I didn't have to save you," Wesker spat, "I was going to leave you there to die. Don't speak of Christopher when I am around. Do you understand?"

Jill only nodded in response.

"Good."

He let go of Jill's chin, turned away, and put his sunglasses back on. A moment of silence passed, and Wesker finally spoke.

"Can you get up?" the tyrant asked.

Jill tried to move, but her body shot a wave of pain as soon as she tried.

Sighing, Wesker walked over to the woman, and picked her up gently. Jill was about to protest, but stopped when he carried her into the bathroom. He walked out briefly, and came back in with the plain clothes he had found in the dresser earlier. He set it on the sink.

Jill eyed him curiously, and suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" Jill asked, as he turned to face her.

Not answering her, Wesker went to the tub, and ran the water.

xx

Stopping there. Short... but I've been writing for awhile... God, everyone feels so OOC... I HATE THAT!

Jeice the Ripper~