A/N: Credit goes to the wonderful CarEKaos for moaning at me to finish this chapter and upload it.

Summary: After Resident Evil 5. Chris tries to return to normality whilst Wesker tries to regain his humanity. Wesker/Chris slash. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil

Night of the Hunter

Chapter One

Let them think I am dead. The man thought with a twisted smile on his face as he hauled himself over the top of the volcano crater, collapsing onto the slope as he panted heavily. His plans had been ruined, again. They had been ruined by the man who he had sworn his enemy a long time ago. A man he enjoyed to toy with. A man who had shown more resolve than most. A man who had shown more strength than anyone else that the tyrant had met. It was for those reasons that the man admired Chris Redfield.

Let him think that he has won.

Albert Wesker breathed in the toxic volcanic atmosphere and he laughed.

xXx

When Chris Redfield returned home from Africa, the first thing he wanted to do was take a nice, hot shower and then have a good night's sleep without having to worry about being woken up and chased by genetically mutated people.

He was still shocked by the fact that he had been granted leave. According to the BSAA, now that Wesker was dead the threat was neutralised and it meant that Chris could have some much needed and well-earned time away.

He was in even more need of a break when Jill had decided that she wanted some time away from Chris – hadn't they been apart for enough time? He understood that the BSAA were suspicious of her after Wesker's large influence with the controller, but he was sure that she wouldn't... he was sure that she wouldn't have left him by her own accord. He was sure the BSAA wanted to split them up, to try and give Chris a normal life.

xXx

"Chris, I..."

"Jill, can't you see how great this is going to be?" Chris asked, grabbing her by the tops of her arms. He was excited now that Wesker was dead – he was allowed to be, because it meant that he would finally be able to walk down the street without checking over his shoulder. "We can... we can do anything we want to! I can leave the BSAA and we could move away together! We can start again!"

And then he realised that Jill wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the sparse ground beneath their feet, at the small African airport.

"Jill?" Chris asked. "Is something wrong? Did Wesker hurt you?"

"I can't..." Jill looked up and their eyes met. "You have to understand me, Chris. The BSAA want to take me into custody. They want to question me to make sure I haven't gone rogue and joined Wesker's side, Chris. After that I want to make a fresh start. I want to forget any of this ever happened. I want a new life."

"But... I can be a part of that too, right?" Chris asked.

Jill placed a hand on his cheek and he noticed the tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Chris. I want to do this alone. I'm so sorry..."

"Jill..."

"Stop it." She insisted, wiping at her eyes with her other hand. "Just stop it, okay? You look like a kicked puppy already and I can't stand to upset you even more!" She glanced over to wear a hum-vee was parked and she looked at him longingly. "I have to go now."

"You mean... you mean this is goodbye?" Chris asked. "Right now is the end?"

Jill nodded grimly. "You're never going to see me again, Chris."

"No... no, I won't let you do this!" Chris growled. "I only just got you back..."

"I'm sorry, Chris." Jill turned away, staring down at the dusty ground as she walked towards the waiting vehicle.

Chris ran after her and grabbed her by the arm.

"Chris, I already said –" Jill was cut off by Chris pressing his lips to hers, pulling her into the last kiss they would ever share. He was frantic and passionate, putting all of his emotion into that one moment, trying to get the woman he loved to stay. Jill's hands were on his shoulder as she eased him away gently, resting her forehead against his broad chest.

"I love you." Chris whispered. "I will find you again."

"No you won't." She whispered back and then turned away, walking over to where the hum-vee was parked. She climbed into the back of the armoured vehicle and gave Chris a small wave just before the door was closed.

xXx

It seemed that going to normal life wasn't as easy as Chris had assumed.

It was late morning when he had woken up to the sound of someone knocking on the door, and it had been in a cold sweat with dark dreams of the African wilderness, Sheva falling prey to a tyrant, the volcano and Wesker himself.

Chris dragged himself out of bed and out opened the door.

"Claire."

Chris's sister held up a stack of various letters and parcels. "Don't you collect your post anymore, Chris? I found all of this downstairs." She pushed past Chris, into the flat and set the mail down on the coffee table.

"Sorry..." Chris mumbled, rubbing his face. "I only got back from Africa and a million debriefings yesterday. I was going to call you when I got in but it was pretty late. Have you been in my flat?"

"I'm in your flat right now." Claire's lips twitched into a smile.

"No... it feels different in here." Chris scowled, picking up the first letter from the stack of mail. "It feels like someone's been in here and they've moved stuff... it feels like someone's been going through my stuff."

Claire sat down on the sofa and folded her arms, sighing. "You have been away for a while. Maybe you're just... I don't know... paranoid or something. The BSAA called me this morning and told me that you were suffering from Post Traumatic Stress or something and they said that I should keep an eye on you."

"Did they say anything about Jill?" Chris asked as he opened the letter.

"Not really. They just said that she had been taken for questioning."

"Well she's never coming back." Chris frowned. He interrupted Claire, just as she was about to say something – probably about Jill. "Claire, what the hell is this shit?"

"Bills. Back here in the real world you have to pay them, Chris. Or junk mail – about half of it is probably junk mail. Most likely life insurance, double glazing, inheritance from dead relatives that don't even exist..." Claire shrugged. "So how was Africa? Besides the usual life-threatening zombie apocalypse thing..."

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Oh... okay then." Claire fidgeted on the sofa, wanting to break the awkward silence but not sure how. "The BSAA said you need to talk about –"

"Claire, I don't give a fuck what the BSAA said!" Chris yelled, throwing down the next letter he had picked up. "Africa was different, okay? I saw a lot of good people get hurt... and I saw a lot of good people die. It was just... you can't understand what it was like. You weren't there."

"Then make me understand." Claire insisted, standing up. "You're my brother, Chris. I don't want you to go through this alone. If you can't tell me about Africa, tell me why Jill isn't 'coming back'. Was that you being overdramatic, or is it true?"

Chris walked over to the door and opened it, holding it open. "I have things to do today. I'm sorry, Claire, but... could you leave?"

"Are you kicking me out?" Claire blinked.

"No, I'm asking you to leave."

"I don't see much of a difference."

"Claire just... just go, please." Chris sighed. "I need some time alone... I just need some time to think. Can you... I'll call you later tonight, okay? Maybe we could see each other later in the week...? We could go out for dinner or something."

Claire stood up and briskly walked over to the door, shooting a glare at her brother. "Make sure you do call tonight, Chris. You have to keep talking to people – even if it is just about the weather. You have to make sure you don't shut yourself away from the world. The dark starts getting to you when you're alone."

xXx

Wesker held a hand out, palm up to the sky.

It was raining.

He hadn't seen rain since before he had gone to Africa. He had missed the New York weather and its unpredictable precipitation. He had missed the pollution and he had missed the tall concrete and glass buildings.

He didn't belong here anymore.

People who walked past him in the street didn't realise how close the end of the world had been a few weeks ago. They didn't realise that there was a God walking amongst them, a God who had wielded the power to destroy them all.

A God who had been stopped by a mere mortal.

A mortal who didn't know what was coming.

xXx

Everyone was avoiding him.

Chris could've sworn that people were moving away from him as he walked down the bustling city street with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He thought he saw someone's eyes dart away when he looked up at them and he wondered what it was about him that made people's gazes linger. Maybe it was because he looked tired – he was more tired than he had ever been in his life - and he was sporting a large amount of stubble. He supposed that he looked sort of like someone who had been sleeping rough, or an alcoholic.

Chris licked his lips, thinking about how much he needed a drink and something to eat.

There was a small café a little way down the road, which Chris was sure Claire had recommended to him once. Chris was about to go in to try and get something to eat, when he remembered that he had left his wallet back at his apartment. He hadn't come out expecting to buy anything – he just wanted to get out of the house and have a walk.

xXx

The clothes he had stolen didn't fit well, unlike the perfectly tailored suits he used to own before Africa, back when he had cared about material possessions.

Wesker kicked the unconscious policeman laying in the alleyway as he zipped up the jacket with the NYPD logo stitched onto the arm and then holstered the gun. The man was a brunette and had roughly the same build as the blonde man and he reminded Wesker of Chris Redfield which was the main reason why Wesker had been drawn to him to start with – he had thought it was Chris and he was out for blood. He wanted the brunette to know how he had suffered. He wanted him to lose everything.

He dashed out of the alleyway and tried to blend into the crowd, keeping his red eyes downcast. They were the only feature which would make him identifiable as something else and not a human. He needed to find a pair of sunglasses, but unfortunately there were not many people who wore sunglasses at night. He supposed that he would be able to break into a shop when the streets weren't as busy, but for now he would just have to avoid making direct eye contact with anyone.

Someone knocked into him and the man mumbled a quiet apology before continuing in the opposite direction. Wesker watched him go, and suddenly a sense of recognition hit him. The brown hair. The stubble. The same walk as the man hurried away, pulling his collar up to shelter his face from the cold wind.

I'm coming to get you, Chris.

xXx

It was starting to get dark when Chris arrived back at his flat. There was a group of teenagers gathered in the lobby, all holding various bottles of alcohol. Chris hurried past them to the elevator and pressed the call button – he didn't want to walk up the stairs because he was so tired – but waiting for the elevator didn't seem like a good idea either. The youths kept glancing at him and then back at each other, whispering to each other.

It made Chris nervous.

He didn't like large groups of people – Africa had all started with large groups of people gathered around. After that it had gone severely downhill.

Come on, lift. Come on. Chris could see his hands starting to shake as flashes of Africa started to come back to him. He wanted to be back in the safety of his apartment where he could phone Claire and try to talk her – he didn't think he would be able to, but it would be reassuring to hear the voice of someone that he knew.

Jill would've been better – she would've known what he had been through.

He stepped through the elevator doors and leant back against the wall as the door closed, closing his eyes and trying to regulate his breathing. His mind wandered back to when he had been walking around the city and the man he had walked into, the man who had been staring down at the pavement lost in his own thoughts. The blonde man who hadn't even said anything to him.

Chris shuddered, thinking of the fact that the man who had walked into was blonde. He never wanted to see anyone blonde again for a long time – especially not a blonde man.

xXx

The group of teenagers fell silent when the blonde man walked into the lobby. He avoided their gaze and went straight to the elevator, pressing the call button.

"Hey man, you wanna give us some money?" One of the bolder teenagers asked.

"No."

"Oi. Look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Did a man come in here?" Wesker asked, keeping his back turned towards the group. "Tall, brown hair, unshaven..."

"Yeah, he came in here a few minutes ago. He kept look at us like we were going to mug him or something while he was waiting for the lift." The teenager said, with a murmur of agreement from his friends.

"Do you know what floor he went to?"

"Erm... fifth I think."

Wesker pinched the bridge of his nose. Think. He thinks. Why can't anyone in this place be more precise?

"So, how about you give us some cash as a reward?"

"No."

"Oh, come on."

Wesker stepped forwards into the elevator, ignoring the teenagers who were now yelling at him for ignoring them. He turned around and smirked, pulling a gun out of his holster and aiming it just as the doors closed. He pulled the trigger.

A/N: Any comments or feedback are appreciated.