A/N: Experimenting with things... strong allusions to the rockin' Ashfords.
I. One Big Family Reunion
'Guilt is trivial', Eva hesitantly reassured herself as she gripped the letter in hand. She lay in bed, covers pitched over her head, as a harrowing summer storm ripped through the blackened, wooded landscape set against her father's mansion in the secluded city hills; a desolate purgatory for two on the very brinks of hell.
It'd been seven long years since she'd seen her twin brother, Alex. There was a time when she thought of him every day. Now, piecing together the shattered remains of a broken childhood would prove difficult.
She would have their father to thank for that.
Serving as a blessing in disguise, it was a useful excuse to dismiss the muddled thoughts, altogether. It was painful to try, and the bits and pieces her vulnerable psyche had managed to scrape together seemed almost foreign, as if the memories themselves belonged to someone else. And then other times, the flashbacks would attack without warning, desecrating her precious denial with crystal clear visions of her lips on his. The horrified look of disgrace on their father's face. A car with heavily tinted windows carrying him further off and away, deep into the thick, city fog. He told her that he'd been sent away to study. Eva expected the worst.
She remembered the awful nightmares that plagued her sanity, then: macabre images of her brother's lifeless, color-drained corpse ridden with raw puncture wounds being picked and prodded by stoic scientists.
'All your fault...', the voices would accuse in the late of night, sending her into a crippling state of delirium.
Beads of sweat spilled from her brow at the memory, and a wallowing sickness rose in her throat.
Eva sprung from beneath the sheets to meet the glare of lightning, her crimson, cat-like irises flaring with contesting intensity. At her window, she unfolded the wrinkling cream-colored sheet of paper she'd been grasping, running her fingers over the neatly written script, and read by the light of the moon.
Family,
I will be present for TRICELL's gathering in the coming week. I do look forward to seeing you, again.
Warm Regards,
Alex
A heavy sigh escaped her as the simple note taunted her brother's nearing arrival, not even a day away, now. Alex was alive. Yet, the surge of excitement and relief she'd felt upon receiving that letter had diminished with the passing week and a harsh realization: inevitable confrontation. The consequences of her actions would come full circle the moment he walked through the door. Yes, Alex was alive. With a certain tale to tell. The irony was not lost upon her. Shame set in, once again.
Restless and wide-eyed, impulse led the young woman out of her room and down the eerie, moonlit halls of the mansion. The raucous thunder serving as a useful diversion, she was swift with stealth, feverishly climbing her way up through the attic hatch, ripping her silky night gown as she hoisted herself out it's window, and quietly made her way to the rooftop. Outside, she's greeted with a fierce gust of wind and rain. Eva welcomed the storm, tilting her head so that it may completely envelop her. But, while the cold rain drenching her skin was somewhat therapeutic, it did little to sooth the nagging fire within her. She prayed for lightning – to feel it coursing through her veins.
Having several sessions involving electroconvulsive therapy in her early teenage years following the 'incident', in a rare moment of cynicism, she aptly decided it wasn't so bad. At least it briefly left her void of self without the responsibilities and repercussion of conscious. Tonight, there was no such luck.
She slowly stalked toward the ledge where she had watched her brother be carried off. A spot where the scene of his indefinite departure played, relentlessly. Her breath quickened as she re-accounted his hateful cries which soon morphed into gut-wrenching pleads to the "person" he seemed to hate the most. In turn, he was mocked, humiliated, and exiled. For her, the beating of a lifetime soon followed.
Flashbacks fading, Eva suddenly found herself on the brink of sheer gravity as she swayed back and forth on the ledge, amused at the thought of falling. Like most people having not yet met the quarter century mark, she had not yet come to terms with her so-called mortality. In her case, for good reason, as she was "virtually invincible" - gospel of her father, the scientist. Yet, despite her aggressive conditioning, not to mention several violent encounters with everything from man made, creature-like monstrosities to human killing machines alike, Eva figured the notion had never really been tested before.
Surely there was no better time than the present.
The wind and storm strengthened, encouraging the notion. Less stricken with fear and more with utter curiosity for a means to an absolute end, Eva closed her eyes and put her first foot forward. She let out a sharp gasp as she was firmly pulled backwards onto stable ground and cloaked with a heavy towel.
It took her several moments to grasp what was happening as the larger figure easily led her by her shoulders, down the halls, past the large water streaked windows, and safely back into her room. She caught a rare glimpse of his bare eyes as he wordlessly shut the door behind him. Sunken and dark-rimmed. He'd been awake. And he was nervous, too.
Little bits of ash sprinkled the exotic wood flooring on the balcony overlooking a lively garden where the who's who of TRICELL International occupied precious space at a summer villa. The sun had shone far too brightly that afternoon, Eva thought with the flick of her cigarette, hoping with ire that it should land on one of the many expensive designer wears littered throughout the small crowd. Instead, it fell at the feet of a young, blonde, pharmaceutical lobbyist, who then looked up at her and smiled. Eva turned away in a haste, frustrated and embarrassed. She'd seen this man at nearly every meeting and it seemed to be his personal duty, every time they were together, to make her as uncomfortable as possible. The prolonged stares and passing brushes of his skin against hers, were confusing at best. She wasn't quite sure what to make of these odd interactions, she just wished he would stop.
A sudden gust of cold air escaped the parlor as it's doors swung open. Eva's mind fell blank as her posture straightened, instinctively, in the presence of her father.
"Come inside," he commanded, evenly. "I need to speak with you"
She complied without word, and side by side the two strode down the hall, with the younger blonde cautiously walking a half-step behind her superior as their custom followed.
"Alex will arrive, shortly", he began, adjusting his signature sunglasses. "I believe a bit of preparation is in order"
"Preparation?", Eva echoed, quizzically.
He huffed a vain, little sigh.
"It's been seven years, Eva. The boy you knew is now a man with his own ideals. Unfortunately, he's had to spend the latter part of his adolescence associating with human cattle, adopting their trivial beliefs..." he muttered with a hint of disgust. He stopped at a hidden panel door near the end of the hallway, pausing long enough to lock in a code on his smartphone.
"Because of his prolonged exposure to the outside world, we can leave nothing to chance. You have been entrusted with valuable information regarding TRICELL and the family. Protect it. Should he pry, be brief. You will report all of his inquiries to me", he finished upon entering the room and beginning to shut the door, signaling the end to their conversation.
"Wesker, you want me to spy on my brother?", she blurted, hoping she had somehow misunderstood his very direct orders.
He lowered his face, peering past his sunglasses so that his stern, red gaze pierced hers. His daughter, suddenly feeling three feet tall, fought the urge to look away, knowing it'd be an awful mistake.
"I want you to keep your guard up," He sharply reiterated. "He is not like us, Eva. Not anymore. He's an outsider. Be vigilant"
As the panel shut closed, Eva's dull heart, sank – high hopes, deflated. A small part of her wanted to believe that a civil reunion, free of strife, might have been possible. Instead, she'd been given the very awkward task of monitoring her own brother – an "outsider", as her father had called him. Waves of anxiety rippled through already frayed nerves. Seven years had come and passed, yet it was quite clear that Albert Wesker still held some resentment towards the once rebellious, young boy. If last night's storm were any premonition, this may not end well.
She gently massaged her sore eyes behind shallow, blue contacts when a dull, buzzing noise spilled from her shirt pocket. Eva glanced at her government-issued cell phone. A flashing bar reading, 'Military Base'.
"Temple, speaking", she answered, retreating to a far corner.
"Lieutenant Temple, the General is requesting that all commanding personnel be present at military base in 0700 hours for further disclosure regarding our latest alliance"
The BSAA.
"Attendance is mandatory"
Jackpot.
"Understood".
At last, the break she'd been waiting for. Congress was on the cusp of a new act that would enable an exclusive government union between the anti-bioterrorism organization and the U.S. military, almost entirely at her discretion. It had been way too easy. Pathetically, so.
What should have been a tedious process with years of invested litigation and public debate, was merely a matter of time and advocacy, which she won, effortlessly, gathering vocal support from the most unlikely sources, such as the General's own psychotic, trigger-happy nephew, Captain Earl Turner, and famed STRATCOM hero and Raccoon City survivor, retired Special Agent, Leon S. Kennedy. Of course, a few "atta girl"s and CNN press junkets should've only gotten her so far, but the powers that be were moving this shit along as if due process was on ex-lax. Eva wasn't stupid. She knew the government was hawking it's own agenda and that the secret service had been dying to get their hands on BSAA classifieds since it's inception. The Act would finally allow them to freely ransack the organization's information for all it's worth – something the Consortium, itself, couldn't accomplish as it's sole financial investor. In exchange, the military would offer federal immunity and endless ammunition in the form of unsuspecting, young soldiers.
She figured the BSAA's operating grassroot founders must have either become terribly senile, or cracked under the pressure of government scrutiny, for it was a foolish thing to agree to on their part, and if tomorrow should follow as planned, by the time they reached this conclusion, it would be too late.
But that was none of her concern. So long as she could maintain her soon bestowed status as a dual cooperative long enough to satisfy her father, they could murder each other after the fact.
Eva re-entered the parlor with a new found optimism, knowing that if she could survive this drag of an evening, by dawn she'd be off to greener pastures, tending to more important matters. She glanced out into the garden as darkness steady fell. No sooner had the sun began to set, did a black Rolls Royce pull into the driveway, attracting glossed stares and modest approval all around. Eva watched the scene from afar, curiously gravitating towards it as far as the tall, arched windows would take her. The chauffeur got out of the car, making his way to the back passenger door. As it was opened, the pace of her heart seemed to slow with each passing moment.
A tall, dark-haired gentleman exited the vehicle and a familiar scent flooded her senses.
'Oh, Creation.'
"Alex", she whispered, aloud.
Frozen, she stood and watched in a state of awe. Greeting the guests with a charming grin, there he was. Her brother. Her twin. The outsider, shaking hands, kissing the blush colored cheeks of their female associates, mingling with the masses as if it were second nature. It was fascinating. Hardly the brooding wild child she so vaguely remembered, lo and behold, this was not her Alex Wesker. This calculating young man moved with pride and precision. A seemingly slicker, sleeker, carbon-copy of their father, Eva estimated. Yet, apparently far more pleasant. Approachable.
Handsome.
The rattling observation sent shivers down her spine and she quickly dismissed it in time to notice the shifting mood among the people as they made way for TRICELL's puppet master, himself. Voices hushed and the very wind stilled as Albert Wesker approached his estranged son in a staredown for the ages.
Glaring as if they were sizing each other down for a brawl, in a classic will of ego, neither man flinched. The elder, just as cold and emotionless as ever, staring into a distorted mirror. He too, quietly marveled at his son's maturity, slightly disturbed by their strong resemblance; half-expecting the small boy he'd broken and cast off years ago. Something more tame. Less refined.
Anything but this pompous fuck.
The two creatures, both cloaked in black, slowly approached one another under the stained glass lamp post hue. Eva gnashed at the inside of her cheek, nearly crumbling under the weight of anxiety as she watched the thickening tension build and disintegrate with the curve of her brother's lips.
"I believe this is the part where you invite me in".