All right! I realized I haven't written anything for Resident Evil in a while, so I thought I'd write this oneshot! :) It's been a while, so forgive me if I'm a little rusty with my facts. I hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think!

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to Capcom.

The cold.

I can feel the cold taking over, spreading from my head down to the tips of my toes. It's not a good feeling, and I only hope I can live through the experience.

He's there, standing in front of me with the most smug expression on his face as he raises his fingers to my neck, keeping them there and depriving me of oxygen.

Albert Wesker. I've never hated anybody more than him.

"No!" my partner, Jill Valentine, shouts from over by the bookshelf that the bastard had pushed her into while she had attempted to help me.

"Let's finish this," Wesker declares, smirking again as he continues to choke me. I try to pry his hand off me, but he's getting stronger. Oh God, I can't breathe. I can't…

"AHHH!" a voice shrieks out of nowhere, and suddenly, I land on the floor with a loud thud as I realize Wesker's let go of me. A loud bang reaches my ears, and I suddenly feel a different kind of cold: a window's been broken. Rain lashes against me, and the wind makes me feel even chillier than I already am.

I open my eyes and spot Jill holding Wesker by the waist as she pitches the two of them out the window. NO! I think to myself, NO! With that, I run to the window and glance down, watching as the two of them fall into the abyss.

"JILLLL!" I scream, holding a hand out helplessly as they disappear into the night…

"AHH!" Chris Redfield gasped as he felt a muscle tighten in his shoulder. He immediately stopped lifting the weight he had been holding and sat up, massaging his shoulder until the cramping stopped. He must have been so lost in thought that he lifted the weight wrong, therefore pulling the muscle.

While he was taking a break, Chris glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. 2:38 AM.

It was one of those nights. One of those nights where he couldn't sleep and decided to work out in order to calm himself down. At least the weights would take his mind off his nightmares.

They were always about Jill and what happened that night at the Spencer Estate.

Chris took some deep breaths as he rotated his arm and continued to clutch his shoulder. Just a few more stretching exercises, and it would go away.

It had been three months since the incident at the Spencer Estate, since Jill Valentine and Albert Wesker had been declared dead by the various search parties in the BSAA. Although Chris didn't want to remember the day he received this tragic news, he did anyway, and he felt his chest constrict to the point where it seemed like he couldn't even breathe.

Chris's shoulder was still tense, so he stood up, grabbed a washcloth, and soaked it in warm water, placing it across the afflicted area on his body in an effort to help the muscle relax.

But he himself couldn't relax. Not after his nightmare. After the incident, he had distanced himself from everyone and everything, and even more so when he found out Jill was gone.

Spotting a mirror in the corner, Chris took off his wifebeater and glanced at his appearance. He was fairly well-built, with a six pack and muscles in his arms. He hadn't looked like that three months ago, but he was hoping to change that for the better.

Ring! Chris jumped at the sound of his phone ringing, and he quickly sprinted over to it and answered it. "Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, Chris!" his little sister, Claire, greeted.

Chris immediately sat up in his seat. "Claire, hi!" he replied, "It's 2:38 in the morning. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Claire replied, "I'm on a mission with Terrasave in California. Remember?"

That was right. In everything that had been going on at the BSAA, Chris had forgotten about his sister's trip with Terra Save. "Oh, right," he sighed, "I'm sorry, Claire. I forgot for a minute."

"It's okay," Claire assured him, "I was gonna leave you a message, but since you're awake, I figured I'd talk to you. Are you okay? You're usually not up at this hour."

Chris sighed again and leaned back against his work bench. "I had another nightmare about three months ago," he explained. Claire was the only person he still kept close to him after shutting himself away from everyone else.

"Another one?" Claire echoed, "Are you okay?"

Chris contemplated his sister's question. "Yeah," he assured her, "Well…no. It just showed me how I failed to save Jill. Not as bad as the one from a few nights ago when Wesker was laughing in my face." The fracture in his heart deepened. That dream had been so much worse.

"But it doesn't matter now," he continued, "I can't change what happened, and now…" He trailed off; Claire was already worried about him, and if he admitted to her that he didn't think he could ever be happy again, she would hop on the first plane back to the East Coast. He didn't want her to have to drop everything she was doing.

"Chris," Claire spoke up from her end, "It's okay to miss her."

Chris sat up now. "You think so?" he asked.

"I know so." The younger Redfield took a deep breath and continued.

"You know," she said, "I felt the same way when Steve was killed. Like there was nothing I could do to help him, or that it was somehow my fault. You know how closely I end up bonding with people, and the image of him going like that replayed itself in my mind over and over again."

Chris nodded from his end, surprised that his sister was bringing up one of her more painful memories from 1998. He remembered how tough that had been on Claire, after the two of them had escaped from Antarctica. She had lost sleep over the incident there, and that time, it had been Chris trying to comfort her. Now, ironically, it was the other way around.

"It was rough," Claire continued to explain, "But then I thought about how Steve wanted me to make it out of there alive. I made sure that he didn't die for nothing. His bravery was one of the things that kept me going, and even though I never got to thank him, I'm sure somehow, he knows how grateful I am." Chris remained silent, letting his little sister get everything out of her system.

"Jill would want you to be happy, Chris," she said, "Just like Steve wanted us to escape."

"You really think so?" Chris asked, wondering how Claire could possibly know that.

"I'm sure," Claire admitted. She paused for a minute before resuming.

"You will be happy again, Chris. I know it."

So it seemed that Chris didn't need to tell her that that was his fear: that he would never recover from this. He didn't think he deserved to be happy; he didn't feel like he deserved Claire's sympathy, either.

"Want me to come home?" she questioned, "I can catch the first flight back."

Chris thought about it for a minute. "No, that's okay," he declined, "I know you're really busy with Terrasave. You don't have to worry about me."

"Are you sure? I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I am," Chris assured her, "Just talking to you is making me feel better. Thanks, Claire. I…I really appreciate it." And he did. Something his little sister had said earlier resonated with him, and now, the wheels were turning in his head.

"You're welcome, Chris," Claire said, "I've got to go now. The others want to get to sleep before our next mission tomorrow. Talk to you then?"

For the first time that early morning, Chris let a small smile pass his lips. "Yeah," he promised, "I'll call you tomorrow. I love you, Claire. Thank you."

"No problem," Claire said in response, "I love you, too." And with that, she hung up.

Chris plunked the phone down as he ran his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths as he thought about his brief, but meaningful conversation with his sister.

The pain in his shoulder had now reduced to a dull ache, and as Chris lifted the washcloth away from it, Claire's words replayed themselves in his head.

"But then I thought about how Steve wanted me to make it out of there alive. I made sure that he didn't die for nothing. His bravery was one of the things that kept me going, and even though I never got to thank him, I'm sure somehow, he knows how grateful I am."

Chris narrowed his eyes in thought.

"I made sure that he didn't die for nothing."

That was when another idea entered the older Redfield's head.

For the last three months, he had been working out in his basement in order to take his mind off the Spencer Estate, as well as any other stress. Now, however, he decided he would train for a different reason.

Chris glanced at himself in the mirror again and took in his physique. One thing that bothered him about tonight's dream was that he had felt so helpless against Wesker's strength. If he trained hard enough, perhaps he could stand a chance against his next inevitable confrontation with Wesker. Despite the fact that he had been declared dead along with Jill, Chris had the nagging suspicion that his old enemy was not dead.

"I made sure that he didn't die for nothing."

And with that, Chris returned to his weights and began to work out again.

I'll make sure Jill didn't die in vain.