Greetings readers,

Since I have a few followers, or rather this story has a few followers, I have decided to make this a series! I wanted to address a few things before I start this off. First, I have had a complaint about the morality of this fanfiction, so I want to clarify a few things. This fanfiction is about Stockholm syndrome, so yes Emma isn't very representative of readers, or what others would consider moral, but I personally thought it would be an interesting view to explore, as well as a unique one.

Secondly, this will be posted in between my Izaya story. I have found writing two stories at the same time can help me fight off writer's block, so I apologize in advance about the slowness of my posts. My goal I to have a chapter up each month so please bear with me for now.

Lastly, the lemon/smut I used to evaluate if it would be worth making a series is much later in the story. I will though, keep it posted as the first chapter, so more people can enjoy it, and when I get to that chapter, I will repost it and such, so everything is in the correct order.

I think that's all for now. Please don't hesitate to P.M. me for any reason at all. Enjoy!

Introduction

"Wesker aren't you tired of torturing them to death already?" Excella muttered, glancing down into the room.

Wesker glanced at the severely underdressed woman, before going back to his work. What did it matter to her if he brutally killed anyone? She sighed, disturbing the silence again. Her eyes danced across the tiny creature trapped in the storage area. If they could convince Wesker to do something new, this creature may survive the next few months, enough time to prove useful.

"There are other ways to get information from this girl." Excella continued carefully. "Alexia and I talked about it a bit, and came up with a few ideas. "

"If I want your helps, I'd ask for it." Wesker glanced between the two women in his office. "And I don't remember doing any such thing. Do you?"

Excella elbowed the other woman painfully in the ribs, forcing her forward. If he was going to listen to anyone it was Alexia, and both women knew it. Maybe even Wesker knew it too.

"Well, we both think that maybe if you tried being nice to the captive this time, you'd maybe get more of a positive outcome." Alexia smiled slightly. "What could you lose, aside from a few days?"

Darkness enveloped Emma's body, as she sat in the shadow filled room, trying to calm her breathing. She left panic a few hours ago, her training telling her what position she is in. She is a captive, for what she wasn't sure yet, but she knew she would find out soon. Her hands moved around the chair to analyze her situation. Both her wrists and ankles are cuffed to her chair, and her shoulders and waist were tied to something. It was safe to say whomever took her had done this before.

Emma took this time to review captive protocol as she waited for her captors to file in. Remind them you are a person with hopes, dreams, and a family. She snorted at that, but continued on. They will not know who you are, most likely, and they will try to either sell you back to your loved ones, or auction you off to the highest bidder. Was her life really going to end up in a prostitution ring? She sighed, maybe going through this over and over again in her mind, wasn't a good idea.

The door opening diverted her thoughts, bringing her captor to her attention. Emma allowed her sense to open up, not bothering to move her blindfold away from her eyes. The room filled with the scent of breakfast, causing her mouth to water and her stomach to growl. She winced, who knows how long she was passed out and how long it's been since she has eaten.

"Hello?" her own voice scared her momentarily. "M-my name is Emma Singh, I'm twenty-six years old-"

"Your training is of no use to you here." A familiar voice choired in, "I know who you are, and who you work for. That is why I have you."

With that, her visitor left, leaving her again to the darkness. Emma's mind wandered, trying desperately to figure out who has taken her from her home. Her mind continued to work endlessly, until the doors opened again. Exhaustion chipped away at her sense, telling her that evening was near. The smell of supper confirmed this conclusion.

"If you know who I am, then you know I don't have any information for the Umbrella Company." She blurted, before she could stop herself.

A dark chuckle caressed her ears, before the doors closed again. So much for getting more information, she thought as the sudden burning need to pee hit her. She cursed, before diverting her thoughts, dwelling on her need at this point was a waste of time. Emma's existence continued like this for days, the only human contact she had always stayed momentarily before leaving her alone.

"How long do you think you've been here?" Her visitor chuckled when she barely acknowledge him.

"About two weeks, of me being conscious." Emma sighed, her voice hallow from lack of food, sleep, and water. "Maybe a day or two of unconscious time."

"Why do you say two weeks?" Her visitor questioned, his voice sparked with genuine curiosity.

"You visit me every day after breakfast, before leaving for the day. I can smell the scent of food whenever you walk in, the smell of fresh cologne and hair gel also tells me it's the morning." She chuckled. "You also visit around dinner. The smell of food usually isn't that prominent, which means you probably haven't gone to eat yet, but your dinner is somewhere nearby."

"You are very observant," his chuckle slightly comforted Emma. "Are you hungry, Mrs. Singh?"

Emma couldn't help but chuckle as his ridiculous question, of course she's hungry. "I could eat."

"Be good, and I'll let you out of your bindings."

His voice echoed through the room, as did the low thud of his steps. Emma held her breath, she knew what she probably smelled like, not that that was occupying her mind too much. She had accompanied Leon and Chris on rescue missions before, and had personally come into contact with the smell of captive. The sharp smell of bodily fluids and malnutrition turned her stomach each time, but now she knew how they must have felt. Uncaring as to what they smelled like, and more animalistic to their other needs.

The bindings around her shoulders and waist were the first to come off, allowing her body to slump slightly. She hadn't realized how much her body ached, until now. Then her ankles were set free. Her visitor paused, taking in her more relax posture, before ripping the blindfold from her face. Emma whimpered, as the light flooded her ocular system. Her vision slowly came back, as she blinked away to the pain. At first everything came in shadowy figures, but slowly she retained color and actual shapes. She gasped when her eyes met the chilling blue of Wesker's. His lips pulled into his signature smirk, before he released her wrists.

"Come now, we must get you showered and dressed before dinner."

Her shock didn't linger long, she had figured an Umbrella Corporation operative had taken her since the first day, but somewhere deep inside of her, she hoped it wouldn't have been him. Wesker didn't hesitate leaving her in the room, but he did leave the door open. Emma glanced around, before wobbling out of her chair. Weeks of no movement left her legs with little muscle mass. When she finally managed to stand without help, she stumbled to the door. Her hand reached forward gripping the doorway.

"Having trouble?" Wesker's taunted as he leaned against the wall.

"Not at all," her voice cracked.

Wesker chuckled, before hold his arm out to her. Emma glanced at him suspiciously, why was he being so nice?

"My offer has an expiration." He growled.

She nodded before wrapping her weakened arms around his, and allowing some of her weight to rest on him. He continued to walk, but paused his steps so she could keep up with him. Her eyes looked around, taking in the laboratory she was locked in, before she glanced up to him. She still had many questions, and she very much doubted he would be willing to answer any of them. After a few moments, Emma pushed off of Wesker's body, smiling nervously and his questioning glance.

"Thank you, I can carry myself now."

He led her a small ways up the hall, before opening one of the many doors in the hall. Wesker paused, waiting patiently for Emma to enter. She hesitated at first, glancing into the room for anything suspicious or deadly, before stepping into the eggplant colored room. Wesker fallowed her closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. Emma jumped slightly, before turning to look at him.

"Jumpy, and I haven't even done anything to you yet." He chuckled wickedly. "Welcome to my room, the bathroom is through those doors."

She fallowed his finger, before walking slowly to the bathroom and closing the door. Her heart raced nervously, as she turned on the water. Emma's clothed came off with and audible peeling noise, as she took in the taupe bathroom. She tossed the clothes into the sink, wondering if she was going to need to wear them again. Warm steam caressed her body, as she entered the hot spray of water. Soft moans exited her lips, as she scrubbed her body clean with the masculine soap Wesker had in the shower. Emma sighed, as her knotted greasy hair finally felt normal once it was clean.

The faucet hissed when she turned off the water, when she was finally clean again. Her hands darted out searching for clean towels, while she noted the slight weight loss in her midsection. Steam still floated in the air, as she walked from the shower slowly drying herself. When the door opened, Emma squeaked wrapping the towel tightly around her body again.

"You can borrow my shirt, until Alexia can bring you more appropriate clothing." Wesker's voice pierced the awkward silence.

Emma never imagined he would walk into the steam filled bathroom, while she dried off. She had to admit, she wondered what she would wear, since he insisted on her showering before dinner. The first dinner and shower, mind you, that she had since he kidnapped her two weeks ago.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, taking the oversized cloth from him. "But I can re-wear my other clothes."

"I took the liberty of burning them, actually I think you should keep the shirt." he chuckled. "The only thanks I need, is sending Leon and Chris a picture of you tied up and in that."

Emma glanced quickly to the sink, where her clothes were previously. They were indeed gone. She chuckled slightly, before sending Wesker a questioning glance again. He was gone before she could say anything. A sigh left her lungs, still unsure of his game, she slid the shirt over her head. The soft fabric hung loosely off of her body, as she took in her appearance in the mirror. Not much had changed in the two weeks of captivity. Her rosy lips cracked a bit, from the severe dehydration she was in. Her cheeks sank in slightly, but that was all that changed really.

She quickly braided her hair, before brushing her teeth. Emma hated few things, but getting toothpaste in her hair after a shower always rubs her in the wrong way. Once again the bathroom door flew open, revealing Wesker. Her eyes danced across his features from her mirror, before spitting the foamy liquid into the sink.

"Just finished." She smiled, turning to face Wesker.

"Dinner is served," he sighed, stepping aside for her.

Emma smiled nervously, before walking to the small dining table. Wesker sat across from her motioning her to sit down. Her eyes glanced from the bottom of her shirt, to him and then back to her shirt. Her fingers grabbed the ends of shirt, and made sure it didn't shift while she sat down. Wesker watched her awkward movements with amusement.

"There's no need for your modesty." He sighed, already eating.

Emma glanced at him, almost annoyed at him. "I'd rather not flash myself at you."

"I'm sure you have nothing I haven't seen before. Be careful-"

"I am fully aware of the complications if I eat too much too fast." Wesker's growl alerted her to his tense stature, "but thank you for the warning,"

Her features winced slightly, the hunger ached due to the lack of movement towards the food. Wesker continued to eat his meal, sending her questioning glances but showing no other concern. Emma sighed, in times of hunger one must always remember to eat slowly. Her fingers tightened onto the silverware as she took a spoonful of soup. Soup, a good choice to train one's body to eat food again. Emma paused before glancing at Wesker, had he made sure she wouldn't over eat, with his choice of food? A small smile graced her face as she thought.

"What are you staring at?" he sighed, putting his own spoon in the liquid.

"Oh, sorry, I just was wondering if it would be ok if you took off your sunglasses." Emma stuttered, trying to stall her answer.

Wesker's brow cocked questioningly, before he took the black visors from his face. "Better?"

"Much," Emma paused, before looking again at Wesker. "How do you know about my relationships with Leon and Chris?"

Her companion chuckled. "I remember your adopted parents from when I was in S.T.A.R.S. –"

"Richard is my adopted father, but Euphemia is my biological mother." Emma interrupted momentarily.

"I wasn't aware Euphemia had a child from her previous marriage, but I guess I never did talk much about personal lives." Wesker's head cocked slightly. "Anyways, I also remember how close they were to Mr. Redfield. As for Leon, you have a picture of him in your wallet. From that, once can assume you are very important to him."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"It's a shame about your parent's deaths, I wasn't aiming to kill them." His voice perked up in an amused way. "But Chris chose to save the civilians."

"They aren't dead," Emma mumbled, as she started eating again. "The missile missed them by a few, but they were in the hospital for a good amount of time."

"That's good news."

"Wesker, may I ask why I'm here?"

"If you must," Wesker sighed, making an effort to give me his full attention. "You are here because we need the valuable information in your head. You are given the choice of telling me or dying, it's as simple as that."

Emma swallowed hard at his words. Her throat now drier than the Sahara desert desperately ached for some type of relief. What information did he need? And how could he be so sure that she was the persona to give it to him? She didn't do much in the B.S.A.A. Her only job was to get the teams in and out of situations.

"The others will come looking for me." Her words came out rushed, but much braver than she really was.

"No they won't, or at least not right away." Wesker chuckled. More than amused at her bravery.

"You see, you were approved for three months of leave, so for all they know you are off on vacation."

Astonishment and distress radiated through her heart. How did he know she was supposed to be on leave? Worse of all, they both knew no one would notice her absence until it was too late.

"But you don't have to worry about making a choice yet." Wesker cackled. "For now, enjoy your dinner and the few day's you'll have to heal up."

Dinner went silent after that, neither party had much to say to each other. Emma's mind fogged with too many emotions for her to name, as she ate. Her movements were robotic, as Wesker glanced to her every once in a while to see how she was doing. Poor thing, he couldn't help but think. The door opened to show Alexia.

"Alexia will take you to your room." Wesker hummed. "Sleep well Mrs. Singh."

Emma stood quickly, too quickly to hide her anxiety. Both siblings took in her shaking form, but did little else.

"Thank you for dinner."

One could say many things about Emma, but she would be damned if anyone said she was ungrateful. Alexia smiled, before walking out of the room with Emma right behind her. They walked down the hallway for a few minutes, before they reached a heavy metal door with the name Singh printed neatly on it.

"We thought you might enjoy an actual room." Alexia almost sang. "Unfortunately you are in this position, so the door locks from the outside. I have stocked your room with clothes, and a few books from your apartment. So I hope you'll enjoy yourself a little."

As Alexia spoke, she opened the heavy door. The room smelled like fresh paint and old books. Emma walked in, taking in her new surroundings. The deep grey walls contrasted against the black furniture, which strangely resembled her own in the apartment.

"We also managed to get your bed, desk, and book shelves." Alexia chuckled, "We weren't exactly sure how long you would be here. Anyways you need rest, good night."

"Thank you."

Sleep sounded nice, and Emma was fairly sure Wesker would indeed keep his word. Before dragging herself to bed, she pulled a pair of underwear and old sleep pants on. Soft snores echoed through the room, before her head hit the pillow.