Jill was aware of Chris' grief stricken voice in her ear, his sorrow breaking her heart in to pieces. Her arms squeezed reflexively around the one that she pulled from the building above along with her. Though it was only a matter of seconds, she felt like she had been falling forever, holding that man that constantly drove to tear them apart. Just before they hit the water, she released him. The black waters consumed them both.
Then there was darkness. It was cool against her skin, featherlight as if someone was stroking her cheek. In her mind's eye, she saw Chris kneeling next to her, touching her arm. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He smelled as he always did, since the day they had met. His eyes were gentle as they looked down at her, the smile on his lips radiant as his hand moved to cup her chin. His mouth moved but she couldn't hear what she was saying, her ears filled suddenly with the sound of roaring water.
"Wake up, Valentine," The voice that met her on the brink of consciousness was not the one she had wanted to hear, the deep tone almost mocking. His arms held her, but she was too weak to pull away or even lift her head from the muscled pillow upon which it rested. Despite everything, Wesker had pulled her from the water instead of letting her drown in the peace of dreams. Then there was the gritty texture of sand on her fingertips, the heavy wetness of her clothes more chilling than the rain that doused her face as she opened her eyes to the stormy heavens.
"Ah, she lives." The voice mocked her again, Wesker's shadowed face invading her vision, his haunting eyes unshielded by the typical black frames that hid them from the world. The look he gave her was more icy than the storm they were surrounded in. As if he had plans for her.
She was resting on the beach, her head turning to scan their surroundings - no mansion lay on in the distance. Only a rocky cliff side and a violent sea, a dark forest at their backs. Jill sat up slowly, her hand clutching her spinning head to keep it from overwhelming her as she moved. All she could think about was Chris, the pain in her chest. A barely stifled gasp escaped her purple tinted lips, her shoulders trembling from a combination of the cold and the sobs that threatened to break her composure. She couldn't cry, not in front of Wesker. That was the only thing that held her broken will together - the raging fire of hatred she held for her captor, the captain that had turned his back on all of them.
"Wesker." She bit out, her voice wavering in pitch slightly as she shivered violently again. It was cold, too cold. She would need to find shelter and get out of these clothes if she wanted to avoid hypothermia. The smirk that answered her was unreadable. He stood too quickly and grabbed her upper arm, yanking her to stand. She reeled but the grip he had on her made sure she didn't fall. "Let go of me!"
"Don't be a fool. You know what will happen if I release you," His voice was low and methodical, like a doctor talking to a patient. There wasn't a hint of the usual condesending pitch, his voice almost dead in comparison. "You will fall and become even more of a burden than you already are, in your weakened state."
Jill scowled, and yanked her arm away regardless. She didn't fall, but she swayed dangerously on her feet. The way she had landed on the water may have done a littler more damage than she had realized, most likely leaving her with a concussion. The way her head gave a painful throb told her she was probably right.
"You will be coming with me." He started towards the forest, stopping to look at her over his shoulder. "You do not have a choice." Her heart broke a little more as she realized he was right. Undoubtedly, there would be a search party out looking for her but with all of her gear gone or ruined by the water, she wouldn't be able to last long wherever they were. They weren't near the mansion anymore, and she didn't know how long it would take for that party to find her.
"Come, Jill." The wind tore at his voice as he turned to face her, hand outstretched. The look on his face was a reminder that he was stronger than her - he could kill her right then if he wanted. Her shoulders sagged and her head turned away from him, her mess of brown hair caught on the violent wind that cast more rain against her pale face.
"I'm sorry, Chris," She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut before turning to follow after Wesker. If he had heard her, he made no acknowledgement. Instead, he lead her into the forest silently, further into the darkness. Further away from herself.