A/N: I don't think anyone has done something like this before? If they have, I apologize! I wanted to try another AU, and this little idea came to mind at random after going through pictures of Chris and Piers back in the bar scene while WxC was also on my mind. I thought it could be interesting to do it this way.

Chris swirled the contents of his drink in hand, watching the small whirlpool that formed within the barrier of glass. Same old thing, same glances from the other patrons, same narrow to the eyes of the bartender each time she poured him another. This place, outside the small jobs he'd taken to keep money in his pocket, it had practically become his new home. He'd try to swallow away the unending guilt he didn't even remember the reason for having, and forget the last connection he had to the person he used to be.

Whoever that had been.

The door opened somewhere in the background, but Chris didn't care. Another person who needed a release from their problems that they would undoubtedly find at the bottom of a bottle. Too bad it wouldn't last any longer for them than it ever did for him.

Foot falls came closer, and the last thing he expected was the sound of stretching leather as the stranger seated themselves down beside him. The movement gained a glance from Chris, who tensed his jaw and narrowed his eyes at the sight. Black. All black, like a damn shadow that came crawling out of the night. Blond hair that was brushed back into place without a single loose strand, it was very well kept. Older features, undeniably handsome. Perfect. Sunglasses, an odd thing to keep on indoors. Yet even still, he looked far too good to be in a shithole like that... And for a passing moment, he almost seemed familiar. Chris snorted and looked away, allowing his head to complete a small shake as his eyes fell back to his glass.

"You've become quite the mess," Now the guy actually had the nerve to speak to him directly. Chris didn't bother to turn his head again at that as he downed the rest of his drink. Despite Chris visibly possessing no desire to talk, the man continued, "Dare I question your reasoning?" The guy was playing with him, and Chris tightened his grip over the now empty glass in his hand. "Alone and defeated. How uncharacteristic of you." Chris was prepared to turn around and knock the blond out the more he flapped those lips... Until the words sunk in, confusing him. "My, you're sinking into bad habits, Christopher."

That, right there.

It was enough for Chris to finally offer another look toward the older man. His features didn't soften any, "You know me?"

There was a quirk from the corner of the blond's mouth as it edged into a half-smirk, "Quite well."

Chris seemed to hesitate at that, brown eyes stared curiously at the mystery man. "I don't remember you," It was honest, and Chris set his empty glass down on the counter. "Why don't you go back the way you came?" He wasn't in any mood to deal with someone else's problems.

"Of course," The blond replied, and Chris hadn't expected that. Or at least he wouldn't have, if the man didn't continue. "But I do believe it would be in your best interests to join me."

Chris exhaled, nostrils flaring as he twisted himself on the stool to face to the older man more directly with a heated gaze. "I don't know who the hell you are, and I don't care." He raised an accusing finger to point it at the blond, "I have my own problems. I don't need to share yours, too." To anyone else, his demeanor would have appeared threatening.

Instead, there was a curious hum from the blond. He was unfazed, still just as stoic with features as flawless as ever. "And if I was to say that I could assist you in remembering?" He offered, making Chris pause to think about what he'd just heard. After a few moments of silence, the man was back on his feet again and prepared to walk, potentially taking the key to unlocking Chris' memory with him. "Stay if you prefer, Christopher, but I doubt another offer such as this will openly present itself with ease." That said, the blond had turned and begun to walk toward the exit that would have them part ways for what could have been forever.

Chris watched him, a mixture of confusion, hope, and the will to know more shown visibly in his eyes. He had come there to forget the guilt, to move on and drink away his problems. But a chance to clear all of it up... To remember and fix everything, it was tempting. He hesitated, gazing at the door as it opened and slid closed, concealing the blond from view and successfully placing a barrier between them. A part of him didn't want to go, didn't want to know about the man he used to be. Yet, his heart hammered in his chest at the thought of losing his only chance to find his way, to potentially be someone better.

Damn it all to hell.

Chris practically jumped off the stool and ran after the man on nearly unsteady legs that could barely support him. The door was thrown open with more force than necessary as he dived outside, brown eyes darting from corner to corner in search of the mystery man.

"Changed your mind?" The familiar voice called from behind him, causing Chris to swing himself around and nearly lose his balance. The blond was quick, how did he-? It didn't matter. Chris just wanted to leave. He wanted to find his way back home, wherever that was. So, he nodded. Brief, small. Enough indication to the older man to notify him that he had the affirmative, "Yeah." It was practically a mumble, but the blond brushed by him with a motion for him to follow. He seemed satisfied with the decision as Chris found himself led to a vehicle. He climbed in without a word, hoping that he'd made the right choice.

As the blond seated himself in the driver's chair, Chris glanced in his direction. "Your name," He'd said, causing the man to turn his head toward him. "I don't recall it. Assuming that I actually do know you and this isn't some deliberate plot to lock me away for something."

The smirk was back in place over older features, "Albert Wesker." He revealed, and it was enough for Chris to avert his gaze with a small sense of satisfaction. "What gives you the belief that someone would imprison you?" It was his turn to be curious.

Chris gave a small shrug as he leaned his head against the glass window. "Got enough guilt in mind that it wouldn't be surprising if I killed somebody," He admitted with a frown, eyes staring at nothing in particular as the vehicle was started and they began to drive away. Wesker had gone quiet after that, and Chris was thankful for it.

Brown eyes slid themselves closed, where all his senses had to pick up were the soft sounds from the engine, and the gentle vibrations against the side of his face that rested against the glass barrier. Chris wasn't sure how much time had past them by before his head lulled to the back of his chair, and the world faded away into a dreamless sleep.

Six months. Six months of endless searching, and they'd gotten so damn close. Piers had actually been able to get solid proof of where Chris had been, but by the time they got there, he was already gone. The soldiers from Alpha scrambled around the tables, waiting for further instructions as Piers paced back and forth off to the side, phone pressed tight to his ear while talking to someone back at the base.

Six months.

Chris had left the bar within that very hour.

Piers was resisting the urge to tear the cell from his ear and throw it into a damn wall from the frustration. He'd been so determined, so hopeful. Then reality came crashing down and ruined everything. As far as they knew from the witnesses, Chris had left with some other man. Shady, mysterious. None of them had ever seen him before, and they didn't get much of a description either. The people there weren't all that helpful.

When Piers had finally hung up, he collapsed into a chair next to the rest of the unit with a heavy sigh.

Damn it, Chris. Where are you?

Hard, staggering steps made their way over, and hazel eyes lifted to one of the patrons. Rugged like every other drunkard in there, but he was new. He must have just come in from somewhere outside. "You one of them soldier boys askin' all them questions 'bout the stray dog?" Rough and hoarse, as expected. The guy was already drunk off his ass. But he mentioned 'the stray dog', that's what the bartender and several other patrons referred to Chris as before. Piers straightened up as the man continued, even without much of a response, "Well, if ya are... That blond fella he left with. Never seen 'im before. Gave me a bit of a creep." Blond? Well, it was more descriptive than what the other drunkards had offered up. All they ever said was that, 'he left with a man in black'. Piers pushed him for more, "Did you hear anything they were talking about?"

The man shuffled uncomfortably, "He was claimin' he knew yer friend. Offered to help 'im remember. Mmm, didn't like the sound of it when I heard so I up and left. Saw 'em leave together while I was standin' outside." Help him remember...? No one else was looking for Chris, at least not that Piers had known about. The ace felt his brow furrow as he took in the information, trying to decipher what the hell any of it could mean, or if the man who told him it was even accurate about the details.

The drunk patron was mumbling further, rambling on to no one in particular now as he shook his head. "Blondie was a strange fella with them sunglasses. Never took 'em off, even inside."

Wait.

"What did you just say?" The guy damn well better believe he had the sniper's attention now. Piers pushed himself to his feet, gaze leveled on the unknown patron. The scent of booze was still thick in the air, especially now while at a closer height to the stranger, but what he'd said... If Piers had heard him right-

"Mm?" The drunkard blinked, wobbly on his feet with raised eyebrows. "Oh, blondie. Creepy. Sunglasses inside, long coat-" That was it. That was all Piers needed to confirm it. "Thanks," He'd cut in before the man could even finish, and practically sprinted out the door while his fingers tapped over his phone in a hurried mess. The conversation was better off being kept private, even from his own unit. He stepped into a side alley and the impatience was killing him as the phone rang at least four times before it was picked up.

"Hello?" Good, she was there.

"Jill," Piers greeted her by name, he had no desire to drag things out with pleasantries as he continued immediately, "Is there any way that Wesker could have survived Africa?" The words came out in a rush, desperate, determined. Worried.

Jill had to take a moment to register what he'd said, while not sure why he even had in the first place. "Piers, what are you-"

"Just answer the question," Piers cringed at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't meant to snap at her like that. "I'm sorry, it's just... I need to know if it's possible."

There was a pause, "Why are you asking this? He was shot with two rockets while in a volcano, I don't think anyone could have survived that."

Piers leaned back into the brick wall behind him with his head tilted at an angle to rest against the surface as his eyes shut closed. "One of the patrons said they saw Chris leave with a blond man in solid black, who wore sunglasses that he refused to take off, even indoors. The guy also said that the man claimed to know Chris and offered to help him remember. It's too specific to be just a coincidence."

Piers heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line. "You don't think..."

"If it was Wesker, he got to Chris before we could. There's no telling what he'll try to convince him to do."

A silence drifted between them after that, a shared realization. If the information was accurate... Chris would be in more trouble than either of them could ever imagine possible. The tyrant would have plans, and the broken Captain would be caught up in the middle of them.