A/N: This story sorta follows the RE 6 timeline but there won't be any huge changes to significant events. This is my first venture into the RE fanfiction world, so be kind please!
Freedom.
That was something I had given up years ago in order to stay alive. I haven't been free since July of 1998, the only real difference over the years was who I gave my freedom to in order to stay alive for just a bit longer. First it was Umbrella, then it was the Unite States Government, followed by The Organization, and now I'm the BSAA's little bitch. I could've gotten out of the situation that landed me with the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, but I have a soft spot for Chris Redfield and he looked like he needed the push.
Now I know you might be asking yourself why I'm in such a position, and honestly I've wondered the same thing. But it all comes down to one fact: I'm a hot commodity in the private part of the world that dealt exclusively in bioterrorism. But what did you expect? I am the last living descendant of Oswell E. Spencer, one of the founders and former president of Umbrella. Which left me with a pretty british accent, a sizeable fortune left in an inheritance fund once my dearest uncle passed away, some kickass fighting skills, oh, and I'm also technically classified as a B.O.W thanks to my uncle Ozzie being mad out of his mind and infusing my genetics with early stages of the T-Virus. The virus bonded with my cells, something that no scientist has been able to figure out how that happened, and now I'm a freak of nature. Cool, right? Yeah, not so much.
What was I talking about again? Right, my freedom- or lack thereof. Most of the backstory is pretty uninteresting, so I'll just explain my current situation. Over glorified house arrest forced onto me by the BSAA. The things I'll do for that dunce, Chris Redfield.
I literally can't even go into another room in my own "home" without him getting an alert sent to his cell phone. The monitor around my ankle that just looks like an anklet tracks my every move and monitors my heartbeat. I try to take it off and it'll send electric pulses through my body that are enough to take down a full grown elephant, according to Chris but I think his numbers are a bit off- and the same goes for if I'm ever more than ten yards away from him if we're out of the house. But I have tested it out and the feeling isn't a pleasant one, so I abide by the rules. Its waterproof so I can't even take it off to shower, and its thin enough to not be a nuisance beneath my clothes- being honest I've stopped feeling it because it's been on me constantly for the last two and a half years without a break.
The ankle bracelet and constant monitoring isn't even the worst part. I'm legally married to that dunce, which was definitely not what I signed up for. I figured that they'd have me on missions and shit like that but married to my handler/warden was definitely not what I signed up for. Those assholes at the BSAA didn't even give me the option to keep my last name! I was forced into being Mrs. Chris Redfield and it bothers me. Just because the dunce is hot doesn't make it worth it! You couldn't pay me enough to marry him, which makes everything so much worse because I'm not even being paid for my services to the BSAA. Chris says that my payment should be the fact that I'm not locked up in a lab with the BSAA in control of my funds, but I say he's full of shit. I had to decode the account number and it took me three weeks to get it right, what makes him think that the almighty BSAA is better than a woman with an IQ of 155?
Anyways, moving on. I can tell that Chris is going to have a mission lined up for us at the end of the day, and that bothers me because I hate going on missions with him. When I worked with Ada Wong, everything was fine because we both did our own thing and did our own thing quite well in order to ensure that our shared goal was reached. When I worked for the US Government and was forced to work with the "golden boy" Leon S. Kennedy, we worked as a team to ensure that our shared goal was reached and he even let me lead a couple times. But with Chris, ugh. It's like I'm not even there. There's no democracy, just him being a dunce and coming close to getting us killed time and time and time again. Working with Wesker was easier than working with Chris, and that's saying something because Wesker had a fucking god complex. Out on the field he's in "Captain Redfield" mode and becomes this huge dick, then we come back home and he's asking me what I'd like for breakfast like we're suddenly a team again.
The only reason why I tag along on missions is because it's the only way I'll be allowed to leave the house if he's gone. Being trapped in my own "home" for an indefinite period of time isn't appealing at all. And, somewhere in the back of my head, I'm scared. I'm scared of what'll happen to him if I'm not there to save him. I'm even more scared of what'll happen to me if something happens to him out on the field. He's said it to me plenty of times and I honestly believed him when he said that nobody else in the BSAA would treat me as well as he did. BSAA agents are all so stuck on themselves and their own individual missions and vendettas. Half of the BSAA wants me dead for the crimes my uncle committed against society with the Umbrella Corporation, and the other half just didn't want me around the BSAA because I was technically a spy and for all they knew I could've been sneaking files away under their noses. But I wasn't. I had too much respect for that dunce.
My dunce. Chris Redfield.