Good Girls Go…

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil. (I wish I did…)

Jill was pacing in her room. She has been back in the states for almost a month now. Wesker has been pronounced dead by the efforts of her reunited partner and B.S.A.A. member Sheva. Jill wanted to feel relieve but instead a sense of uneasiness overcame her. True she was free of the Wesker's control, reminded of that fact every time she looked at her bare chest, she still felt his control. She heard his voice when the world was still around her, and she saw his face every time she closes her eyes. She has not been able to get enough sleep during her time back, and her body reflected it. Her eyes have become slightly bloodshot and dark circles developed. Her face has become hallow like death and she has lost a significant amount of weight. She gave up pacing and looked at her watch that she has had to tighten once already since the return. It read 11:23 pm. She sighed and brushed some hair out of her face.

'What the hell is wrong with me? I'm safe; Wesker is dead, and what? I'm still a wreck? Man I need a drink…' She groaned at the thought. Normally she does not drink. In fact, just a few beers are enough for her. 'But I'm so desperate I guess…' She gave up arguing with herself and dragged herself to the closet for something wearable. After deciding on a pair of jeans she has not worn since high school and a navy blue dress shirt, she went to work on her haunted face. 'I guess some foundation will do.' And with a quick application of some much needed makeup she looked semi-normal. She quickly brushed her now blonde hair courtesy of Wesker. After a glance at her reflection without any emotion she walked out grabbing her purse and phone.

She was thankful for a bar being two blocks down, for the night air was much needed to cool her thoughts and her head if only for a moment. As she entered the bar, a wave of countless emotions greeted her. Walking pasted what seemed to be a bachelor party didn't lighten her mood. His buddies keep encouraging him to drink up and live it up for it's his last night as a free man. Jill recalled the day of the Spencer Mansion mission and wished she knew what would have happened to her. Maybe then she wouldn't have turned down that offer to have lunch with some friends. As she pushed her way to the bar, she bumped into a man who smelled heavily of urine and liquor. Jill cringed as she tried to avoid him and find a bar stool. The bartender glided over after she finally sat down and it was hard to her to tell whether it was male or female. After realizing it was a very femine male and assuring him that she just wanted a beer and not some fruity drink, she started to regret coming out.

After a few hours later and several beers into her system, she still wasn't feeling better. By her 6th bee she was feeling drunk and miserable.

'Man I feel like shit. All this accomplished was a hangover in the morning and…' Her thoughts were interrupted by the revolting smell of urine and liquor as that man slung his arm around her shoulder. "…and this babe here is the lucky one going home with me!" The man shouted at the top of her lungs as the bar erupted in drunken laughter. Jill shoved the man's arm off of her forcefully, catching the man off guard. He stumbled back and growled obstinacies and reached for Jill's arm. His grip was iron tight, and she could feel the bruise already forming. She struggled to break his grip as a sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed her. The noises all became babble and her sight blurred. She could barely remember the man releasing his grip on her. She gripped the bar for dear life hoping she wasn't going to vomit. Someone grabbed her and pushed her outside. In her mind she struggled but her body wasn't responding.

As the night air greeted her face, she began to heave all over the sidewalk. The person who led her outside asked her where she lived, and in between vomiting her guts out she managed to tell them. When she was able to walk and was reduced to dry heaving, the person started to escort her home. Jill was waiting for the moment where the person would turn on her and take advantage of her. They were gentle though, and never led her to believe they would harm her. When she doubled over again, he gently held her hair back and asked if there was anyone they could call to stay with her for the night.

"Yea call that damn Wesker! It's his fault I'm like this." She heard a grunt and realized the person helping her was male. He asked if there was a number and she scoffed saying the bastard was dead. She leaned into the man's chest and sobbed.

"I'm sorry! You've done so much for me! I don't know what to say! I'm an emotional train wreck!" The man wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her back not saying a word. She looked up at him with tears staining her cheeks and blurring her eyes. She leaned up and gave him a kiss not caring what happens next. Hs body went ridged at first then relaxed as she continued to kiss him. They became more passionate with each other, entangled in each other on their way to the apartment. They broke apart for only a moment when Jill unlocked her door.

The next morning she awoke with a throbbing headache and cursed the alcohol. She climbed out of bed naked and groaned. She tried to recover her memories from the night before as she searched for some suitable clothing to wear. She looked at her bathroom door and saw a note taped there with 'Jilian' written on it.

'Jillian…? But one other person ever called me that…' Fear exploded through her as a shaken hand ripped it off the door and read it with wide eyes and a knot forming in her throat. She was too drunk last night to notice the signs. The man never revealed his name, he grunted as she bad mouthed Wesker, and she suddenly realized he was wearing sunglasses at night. She threw the paper on the floor like it was a snake and screamed as she dropped to her knees. The sudden action caused her already unsteady stomach to go over the edge and she rushed to the bathroom. The horror was starting all over again.

'Jilian,

I can never die. Remember that Dear Heart.

-A.W.'

*It was just a story I thought of again. I personally don't think Wesker died.*