Woohoo! Winter Break AT LAST! I'm so happy, I could cry :'D. Looks like it's gonna be easy street for a little bit, but hopefully I'll attempt to get up some new material, eh?

I'm just gonna come forward and warn you now: This little oneshot is really different from my traditional stuff, and I mean really different. I've never really tried anything 'dark', I suppose. Maybe a tiny bit OOC for Chris. Got the inspiration from RE5, and meant to post this a while back but lost my data to the stupid stale document system. Sad, so I just jumped on it recently, determined to finish.

I recently heard Gavin Mikhail's rendition of "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie, so this kinda ties into it. Pretty song :3

I would like to dedicate this fic to .-SnipingWolf A.K.A Chris. She's so awesome, her fics are pure brilliance, and I deeply appreciate all the support she's shone through chatting on MSN and reviews, of course! So Chris, this one's for you! Merry Christmas girl! ;)

WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS REGARDING INFO ON JILL FROM RE5! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Resident Evil. It is rightfully own by Capcom.


Autumn never felt so cold before. Never had he realized how different everything felt when he was alone, not once in the 34 years Chris had lived. The sky seemed to reflect his emotions: dark and clouded. Even the rain inflicted small eruptions of pain as it pounded on his head like a drum. But the rain wasn't even a fraction compared to the hurt he was feeling inside, the sights and memories that scarred him. He couldn't seem to forget the hopeless, dying expressions on his friends' faces as they were killed.

No. Killed was an understatement. They weren't killed, they were murdered.

None of them stood a chance. None. And it wasn't until now he realized all the warnings he had ignored were trying to tell him, but he disregarded all of them. It was already too late when he finally did. Far too late.

The storm was beginning to soften the soil bearing path he walked on, sinking deeper into the dark mud with each step. He wasn't wearing anything too formal, just jeans, a leather jacket, and his STARS T-shirt, the same one from his mission at the Spencer estate. It was for a good occasion-

-along with the three roses clutched in his hand.

Only three. Multiple people had died over the years, too many to count. But what he did know was the 3 most important people in his life all died. All from the same man. The same monster that began this war in the beginning. What hurt more than the deaths themselves, was the fact that their deaths came at a meaningless cost. All Wesker ever wanted to achieve was to destroy him, from the inside out. They all died because Wesker was willing to accept anything to bring Chris to his knees. Even if it meant causing harm to the people around him. Even if it meant killing the people he cared about.

He took notice to the area he occupied; he was the only one at the cemetery. There wasn't a single person in sight.

He was all alone.

Alone. He seemed to get used to the word, regarding it was the first one to come to mind to describe himself. Long gone was the Chris that existed all those years ago, the full-of-life Chris that could smile, laugh, and love. That Chris had died alongside his teammates. He learned to befriend a glummer persona. Never smiling or laughing, barely talking anymore.

Or crying for that matter.

The thought made him stop in his tracks of the path. Cry? Why would a thought such as that cross his mind? Was it because of the angst-like feeling lingering inside him?

Maybe because you haven't done it for what seems like forever...

The claps of thunder echoed throughout the sky accompanied by the wind carrying the rain. The thick clouds blocked out the sun's rays, making the day feel darker than it had to be; darker than he wanted it to be. The darkness he felt in his heart was enough to deal with.

Through the fog and rain, he made the realization he never wanted to face, the area he now stood in was decorated with scattered stone slabs, all lined up in a straight arrangement. None recognizable, until he came face to face with them: The 3 graves lined next to the other, all bearing names, dates, and inscriptions. Subconsciously, he gripped the roses tighter, for the time had finally come.

With slow steps, he approached the first grave on the left and kneeled. He couldn't help but stare at the stone that lied before him.

CLAIRE REDFIELD

1979-2005

Brave Fighter,

Loving Sister.

Claire Redfield, the once determined and loving sister he knew was lying in front of him, to be forever trapped in a coffin buried and forgotten underground.

Claire... Chris thought sadly, my only family I had left...gone...

He was left with the responsibility of taking care of her after their parents died. Keeping a close eye on her, funding her needs while away at college, the constant phone calls just to check up on her...It was never hectic looking after her before the Mansion Incident, only after did the job expect more than he imagined. In learning she had escaped Raccoon, he was relieved, but angry. Not at her, at himself and Umbrella. He never called her once after returning home, he didn't want her to know what went on, or get involved for that matter. Umbrella had almost killed his sister that night, they almost took away the last person he had ties to. Shockingly enough, Leon emailed him 3 months later, his sister was in danger once again, this time, and there was a slimmer chance of escape. He didn't hesitate at the mission. Claire's life was at stake, and he wasn't willing to lose her, not again.

Rockfort Island and Antarctica proved there was more shit going down than expected. The conspiracy of the Ashford family and their contributions to Umbrella...and meeting him again. That bastard was alive, getting way too close to Claire. Wesker dying from the Tyrant and buried under the Spencer Mansion rubble was all a delusion.

And then it happened. The one night he left Claire all alone at home...

--

"…Are you positive you'll be fine?"

"Chris!" the read head cried into the phone, sighing heavily at his constant check-ups, "I'm starting to believe you forget I'm a 'big girl' now. I've got guns, a cell phone, and I can aim. Sure, I'm not a dead shot, but come on! At least I can aim! Aside that, I'm only a five minute drive from Leon's house, and all the doors are locked-"

"Alright, alright!" Chris cut her off sharply, throwing his arms up in defense, "Okay 'big girl', just checking if you're gonna be okay for the night."

"Any problems at all, I'll call in a heartbeat."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Alright," Chris sighed, clearing his throat, "Just be careful, I haven't left you alone since the Harvardville incident, I'm not too fond of it now."

"I'm fine, really…" She spoke slowly, "I'll be okay, Chris."

"I'll be home around twelve, but keep the door locked anyway."

"Consider it done."

"Goodbye Claire. Love you."

"Bye Chris, love you too." she whispered, "and incase I'm already asleep, goodnight."

Clicking the phone off, Claire slipped it onto the coffee table and plopped down on the sofa in the dark living room. Small rays shone through the blinds from the streetlights outside, yet the still residence of Claire Redfield was silent, peaceful, and she was all alone. Heavy rain pounded against the window panes of the kitchen, a sign the storm she'd seen earlier on the news was moving in, and not leaving anytime soon.

Curiously, she eyed the phone lying on the table. She reached for it, urged to call Leon for company, but pulled back, looking away.

"I'm a big girl" She reminded herself, "I don't need to be looked after."

Pride or stubbornness either way, she knew she didn't have to prove to herself she was just as strong willfully as much as Leon or Chris, but the tiny voice at the back of her head whispered otherwise, ever wishing just to force the feeling away." Chris' voice filled her ears, what he'd once said to her, "You're going to be okay, you're a strong person."

"Yeah, he said that to all his other teammates, look where they are now…" she mumbled, curling her arms around her knees.

She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes and leaning back against the sofa. For mere moments, she could have sworn she'd heard music, even through the pounding rain. Listening in ever so slightly, she made out the echo of a piano. The tune was recognizable, and knew in an instant it was the next door neighbor. Often days, she'd just fall on her bed, listening to the dreamy ballads played. Funny, the girl was only a teenager, saddened how her parents were never home.

"I'm alone a lot…" she answered when Claire questioned lightly about it one day, "I just need…a distraction sometimes, you know?"

Sadly, she knew that feeling far too well. Since the death of her parents, that's all she ever needed: a distraction. Drawing or puzzles, and often, she'd of scolded herself not to take up an opportunity of an instrument when she was younger. Violin, piano, harp...To be thrown from the dim world into one, full of life and imagination.

Claire frowned at herself, pivoting the night into a nostalgic train ride didn't prove any better a solution than calling Leon. Exhaling sharply she slipped down the cushions and position her head atop the arm rest. She hadn't realized how tired she truly was until she rested comfortably curled in the couch. She closed her eyes, just about ready to slip in a tiny nap before Chris came home-

-but the warm feelings were snatched away when a rather loud crash sounded off from another room.

Claire shot up from her comfortable position, heart thumping loud in her ears. Holding her breath she listened carefully for any kind of giveaway of intrusion.

Nothing.

She moved to rise from the couch to avoid the unnecessary creaks from the aged furniture, and cautioned herself as she reached for the drawer under the coffee table. As expected, the M9 handgun Chris had given to her following the Havardville catastrophe.

Studying the darkness around her, she moved quickly up against the wall opposite the kitchen door. She listened again, but the room fell nothing short of mute. Maybe it was just a plant potter outside, or anything made of glass shattered from the blowing wind outside.

Then again, it may have been nothing at all. But her gut feeling told her otherwise.

She fished her jeans pocket for an object, clasping her hand around the small item and brought it to her face. A travel mirror.

'The streetlights though…if whatever broke in is in the kitchen, they'll see the reflection…'

Dismissing the worry, she shadowed the orange ray over the mirror with her hand, eyes scanning the image in the looking glass.

Sure enough, a black silhouette had their back turned. To intensify the fear, a sleek metal shined in their grasp. A gun.

She swallowed heavily, pressing her body closer up against the wall. She raced through her thoughts looking for a plan, something to lure herself away from her attacker. She pondered calling Leon or sending a text, but quickly released the idea when out of nowhere , she muffled a gasp, hearing the creaking of the aged carpet floor not so much near her, but not in the kitchen either. The click of the switch came, and instantly from the reflection, she saw the light of her bedroom switch on out of nowhere.

She saw her opening and sidled into the kitchen quietly but quickly. The soles of her sneaker padded softly against the tile floor, but broke the silent atmosphere when she stepped on something, sounding off a rather loud crunch. Claire snapped her foot back, swearing softly at her carelessness and bent down on one knee. Just barely through the light filtering the kitchen, she made out something small; sharp.

'China or glass either way…'

Alarms went off in her head just as suddenly as they came, gun shots rang out from behind her. She didn't think twice. She ducked out, rolling away from the frame and to the front door.

'No time to fight! Get the hell out of here!'

Claire obeyed her conscious and ran blindly for the exit. She slammed up against the frame, jerking the knob to open but didn't budge. Unlocking quickly, she jiggled the brass round desperately, groping wildly for the latch in the dark.

"Come on! Come on!" she yelped, slamming on door in a useless attempt to gain attention to help.

Breath caught in her throat, Claire pressed on with the violent attacks on the jammed door, crying out when a pair of rather strong arms reached out to grab her waist, throwing her away from the door and against the wall. Shattering of glass filled her ears as the photos and frames hung above her came crashing down in a reigning heap. Claire regained her composure, quick to her feet and tried for the back door. Hopes of escaping crashed when her attacker moved in front of her, gripping her armed hand tightly. No less than a blink later, her weapon was out of her grasp, skidding across the floor.

"Now now dearheart, we wouldn't want to hurt anyone, now would we?"

Claire's terrified eyes broadened, as did the twisted smile on his face. That voice, that voice she'd heard so long ago…

"Wesker!" she screamed, struggling out of his death grip. Pounding her bruised fists against his chest, useless. Mustering whatever energy remained from her exhausted self, she lunged, slamming into Wesker full front and luckily, lost his balance a great deal to weaken his grip on her.

Jerking her hand away, she tightened her fist and sent it flying, colliding with the blonde's face. He grunted loudly, grinding his teeth his glowing eyes glared at her, piercing through the darkness. Just as his gloved hand came launching at her, she ducked away, sprinting to get away from the madman-

-but the explosive crack in her eyes silenced her. In a heartbeat, she found herself sprawled on the floor, gasping and tears rolled down her face. She squeezed her body tightly against itself, the warm thick fluid flowing from just south of her neck signaled she was bleeding, badly.

She screamed, incoherent speech filled her ears and with the unbearable pain waving through her northern region, the reality of the event became obvious.

The son of a bitch shot her. From the agonizing pain, he may have pierced her lung, or barely missed her heart.

The world slowed, but the pain hadn't in the least. Her wet eyes scanned the room for Wesker, but her senses picked up her front door ajar, and instantly knew he left her here to die. With shaky hands she reached for the cell phone in her pocket. Her dimming vision barely made out the numbers, but held it up to her ears.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

"P-please help me…" she mumbled, "…I've been shot, and I can't move…please send an ambulance immediately…"

Quickly giving her address and name, they hung up. Realizing her consciousness was slipping, she dialed another number, and heartbroken when she came to recognize the voice of her own brother.

"Claire, is everything alright?" Chris answered softly.

"Ch-Chris…" she sobbed, "…come back immediately…I…I need you…"

--

The siren of the rushing ambulance blared all around, even inside the vehicle, the alarm wasn't even close to the point where he couldn't hear the orders being shouted from within the medics. Seated on the cushioned bench, Chris held his sister's hand lovingly as she weakly gripped back. Ever since receiving the phone call Claire had been fatally shot, he stormed out of the office to their house, finding her wounded on the ground, surrounded by medics. Being an immediate family member, he was grateful for the access into the vehicle next to Claire as they rushed her to the hospital, desperate to save her life.

Claire moaned, slowly turning her head to the blurry figure seated next to her. As her vision cleared, her clear blue eyes floated to theirs, realizing in a heartbeat it was her brother.

"Ch-Chris..." she stammered, blinking away the tears forming her eyes as she locked gazes with him.

Chris found himself doing the same, biting down on his own lip to keep the wave of emotion he knew was coming away for as long as possible. Pushing the loose bangs away from her eyes, he learned the emotion was too much for her to hold, the tears streamed down her cheeks, splashing on her blood soaked clothing. He cursed himself for being so stupid as to leave her a long with a security system of a simple lock. If she didn't make it out of this, living a life of regret began to dawn in his vision.

Her wrists shook almost uncontrollably as she held onto him, "Chris..." her voice shook with sadness, "D-Don't leave me alone..."

"Shh...I won't..." he whispered, "But you need to save your energy Claire, everything's going to be alright, I'm here now..."

Was it going to be alright? Would she be alright?

"Stop thinking like that, she's going to be fine!" Chris' conscious screamed, seeing Claire lying there, wounded. "She's Claire Redfield, she has to be okay!"

Whether she would or wouldn't was just a matter of hours.

--

Hooked up to the IV hadn't changed anything. Claire struggled to keep her eyes open and her heart beat was well down in the danger zone still. Chris' eyes remained lock with those of his sister, searching frantically through his thoughts to find something to comfort her, some smile or distant memory...

"Are...you...okay?" Claire attempted to shine the spotlight on Chris, rather than herself. She knew in the deepest part of her soul Chris was scared to death; she was the only part of their family left. The promise he made to their mother to protect her must of been torturing him to death.

He swallowed heavily, "Me? You really shouldn't-" He had to stop just to prevent his voice from cracking, "You really shouldn't worry about me Claire-"

"But I am," she interrupted, "You've barely spoken since we arrived here, you look like you're going to have a heart attack." She chuckled, attempting to throw a bit of optimism into the situation.

Chris chuckled alongside with her, just a fake one to cover up his dismal mood. Chris never rubbed off as a sad sack to her, and certainly didn't want to start now, not if it made her feel bad, he definitely wouldn't want that. As it was now, he'd just about do anything to make her feel comfortable, despite their bitter position. Claire was in dire need of attention, more so from her brother. Seeing her like this was almost too much too bear, her years active in the anti-Umbrella organization had never reduced her to a hospital bed.

"Chris..." Claire coughed deeply, clamping her hands over her mouth, immediately drawing Chris' attention. Falling back in a heap against her pillow, her eyes began to swell up, "I can't fight any more..."

Her words widened his eyes greatly, shaking his head, "No Claire, you can't! Just a little longer, please..."

She shook her head as well, tears falling freely from her tired eyes, "I can't do it anymore, I'm so sorry..."

"Claire!" Chris shifted forward against her bed, "You're going to be okay! You're going to be okay! You're a strong person, just hang in there!"

'There he is with that line again…' Claire thought bitterly, reaching her hand forward with the remainder of her strength, falling just a couple inches into his hand,

"I'm sorry Chris...I really am...I would never want to leave you to face the world by yourself, never..." Claire coughed again, "I always knew in the back of my mind this would happen someday, I just never expected that day to come so soon-"

"-It's not coming." Chris cut her off sharply, "The doctors said you'd be fine!"

"It is!" she denied him, "Don't ever give up Chris...I'll always be alive through your dream and mine both: Destroy bioterrorism for good. Don't let them...Don't let them get away with it..."

"Claire..."

"I love you Chris...don't ever...forget...that..." Claire sighed heavily, exhaled the large intake, with one last tear escaping from her closed eyelids-

-and the long, drawn out beep of the cardio meter.

Claire Redfield was dead.

--

Claire slipped out of his life in mere minutes, it almost felt so surreal to not have her antagonizing him every day, missed it even. Her death was so sudden, and through the crime scene at the house, he found something behind the sofa that made the rage inside him seem almost uncontainable: The shards of black glass of some dismembered shades. Wesker. The broken glass jumped to the conclusion she had at least put up a fight, but not enough to escape with her life. Contacting Leon following the incident may have been the hardest part. He hasn't heard from him ever since. No funeral had been planned officially, and no one other than himself visited her grave site regularly.

Rising from the stone slab, Chris shifted over a couple of feet to the left of Claire's grave, kneeling once again at yet another head stone. Placing his second rose in the collection cup embedded in the ground, he read the inscription.

REBECCA CHAMBERS

1980-2003

Beloved Mercenary,

Gentle Healer.

Yet another devastating passing. He hadn't been formally introduced to her when she first entered S.T.A.R.S, mainly she had been part of Bravo team and the two divisions had different shifts. It wasn't until the Spencer Mansion Incident when they were battling for their lives that he saw the true colors of the bravo medic. As terrified as she was, she kept a strong outlook on herself and make herself look like she didn't need to be 'looked after'. Through the nightmare on that mission, Chris had grown rather protective of her, in the same protectiveness he had for Claire, even though he knew she could of taken care of herself.

Fate had proven otherwise when that small mistake had been proven fatal.

--

The facility was crumbling to pieces after they set off the destruction mechanism. Walls and floors were caving in behind them. Maneuvering the falling debris was life threatening, and if they didn't make it out soon, there would be consequences.

"Hurry!" Rebecca yelled to them over the alarm, "We've only got ten minutes before this whole place ignites!"

Jill nodded her head in agreement, picking up speed to run alongside them. Time was pressing and the fear of not escaping soon enough began to surface. Chris whipped his head back, sure enough, a couple of BOW's were in hot pursuit. Narrowing his eyes, Chris learned they were looking at a difficult battle: three Cerberuses and a MA-121 Hunter.

"Dammit!" he growled, the two girls directed their attention to Chris', "These things won't give up!"

They were gaining on them, and Chris withdrew his handgun to take careful aim. Years of marksman training proved worthy when he achieved a head shot off one dog, crippling the other's back leg. The other two girls did just as Chris, equipping their handguns and taking aim. Jill steadied her aim, just barely missing the last Cerberus in the neck. The second shot hit, lodging itself where the eyeball used to be. Rebecca copied her older teammates, taking focus with the Hunters now sprinting to them. Pulling back on the trigger, the flurry of gunshots filled her ears. The first couple missed, however, her training with Chris paid off when she managed to target one's head, a perfectly clear shot. Slamming another clip into the barrel, she turned to face Jill, but her expression quickly changed to one of horror.

"Jill look out!" Rebecca cried out, reaching her arm toward Jill's direction.

Another Cerberus leapt from behind the fallen debris, ramming Jill and forcing her pinned to the ground. They struggled, the woman tried to push away its bloody jaws, clamping closely to her neck. Rebecca pointed her gun that monster in attempts to save her partner. Making a clear shot seemed amazingly pressuring as she stood there, frozen in spot. Her wrist shook uncontrollably, the gun trembled from underneath her hands. It all felt too familiar, the quivering hands, the blurry vision, the nausea, the same feelings occurred when Richard was trapped in the snake's mouth, a single shot could save him or kill him. Flashbacks and images plagued her mind, Richard's soothing words echoed in her mind.

She was too scared to pull the trigger.

Shoving the barrel of her gun into the dog's mouth, Jill fired her last round into the dog's head. Instantly, the carcass fell limp on Jill, struggling to remove it from on top of her. Pushing it to the left, it slid off of her and onto the floor, dead. Drawing her attention back to the other two, Jill caught sight of Rebecca just standing with her gun pointed, her eyes blank.

"Rebecca!" Jill called, rising to her feet, "What are you doing? We need to go NOW!"

Rebecca blinked her eyes rapidly, stumbling back into reality from her spaced-out moment. Shamefully, she looked at Jill, loading another clip into her handgun, taking aim at the oncoming Hunters. Shifting her right leg forward, she winced and fell to her knee, clutching her calf muscle.

She sucked air sharply in through her teeth, "It got me…"

Rushing to Jill's side, Rebecca kneeled next to her, eyeing the wound. Blood seeped through her fingers as she applied pressure to it, but it only slowed down the flow. She needed immediate medical attention or she'd die of blood loss. Ripping the bandage roll from her pouch, Rebecca wrapped the wound semi-tightly, Jill flinched on contact with the material.

"Chris!" Rebecca called him, "We need to go! Jill's hurt!"

Picking off the Hunter, Chris lowered his pistol, pointing to the floor. Whipping his head around, the pool of blood forming around Jill caught his attention immediately. Sliding the gun back into his holster, he dashed over to the girls, kneeling next to Jill.

"Jill," he breathed heavily. Clearly the battle exhausted him, "You alright? What happened?"

"Dogs, that's what happened." Rebecca answered, facing Chris, "We need to get her to the helicopter, she was wounded pretty badly."

Chris nodded, moving to place his arm around Jill's waist, helping her to her to stand as she tried to regain her balance. She moved her arm to place around the back of his neck, gripping her arm lightly.

"Rebecca, cover us from the rear." Chris commanded, aiming his gun ahead of himself and his wounded partner.

Rebecca acknowledged Chris' commands and kept her gun trained on the back most of the large room they occupied. Her hands shook only slightly, but not as bad as earlier with her memories of Richard. Either way, she was ready to shoot anything that moved.

Chris supported up Jill, half walking, half limping to the exit. They were all determined to get out of there, the temperature was dropping, it was getting dark, and the paranoia was beginning to set. Chances of getting out and getting Jill help was pretty high, but with the years she'd spent with Chris and the others, she'd learn to adapt to the fact that anything could happen.

"Anything can happen…" she whispered, those words Chris spoke to her.

She held her breath, listening in for any kind of sound, footsteps or growls. Noises ceased and the eerie silence of the now quiet room remained, interrupted by the intercom over head.

"Warning: Self destruction has been initiated. All personnel must evacuate immediately. T-minus seven minutes until destruction."

"Seven minutes," Chris mumbled under his breath, "We may have up pick up the pace just a little."

Both girls nodded slowly, continuing their trek out of the facility. Jill grimaced as the burning pain in her limb began to branch out all over, she wasn't in dire need, but as soon as they reached a safe area, Jill would need professional treatment.

Rebecca gasped, abruptly stopping with her gun trained into the shadows. Hearing her frightened pant, Chris stopped in his tracks as well.

"What is it?" he asked firmly.

"...I saw something. It couldn't have been human, it moved too fast to be anything human." Rebecca kept her cool and kept her gun pointed sharply.

"More BOW's probably. Keep your eyes sharp, and be careful."

"Roger that." she affirmed, resuming her position behind them, pacing a couple of feet behind Chris and Jill.

Chris leveled Jill, keeping her arm slung around his shoulder as they progressed half walking, half limping. Jill leaned heavily on her partner as he supported her up, elevator coming in sight, just feet away.

"Guys hurry!" Rebecca warned, "We've got more coming our way!"

Chris and Jill both whipped their heads around and instantly knew time was slipping away faster than they could manage. From the shadows at the back most of the massive room, two hunters and a small crowd of zombies stumbled out from the crumbling walls.

"Shit!" Chris cursed under his breath, nearly dragging Jill the rest of the way. She obliged, half limping, half hopping up to speed with Chris' rhythm. Slamming his fist against the button, the elevator engine roared to life, slowly climbing the levels.

"Come on, come on…" Jill muttered, leaning against the wall.

A reign of gunshots sounded off from Rebecca's handgun, picking off the creatures as they progressively closed on the three of them. Zombies were no problem, but just as things began to become controllable, the colossal green mutants charged. Slamming another round into the emptied handgun, she sucked it dry in a matter of seconds.

At last, the elevator released the nerve-calming ding, the metallic doors slid and disappeared into the sides of the frame. Chris aided Jill inside the small lift, leaning her against him and the wall for support.

Rebecca fired without rest motivated to pick off every one of them. When her clip finally ceased to fire any more bullets, she lowered her gun, letting it fall without restraint to her sides.

"Becca that's enough!" Jill yelled, "We need to hurry to the hangar!"

She didn't budge. Her back remained turned to them, ignoring as the remaining BOWs charged.

"Rebecca come on!" Chris demanded, "Let's go! They're coming straight for us!"

She diverted her gaze toward her comrades, shifting to face them, but failing to obey Chris' commands.

"No." She replied curtly, shaking her head, "I'm not coming."

Chris gazed in horror, "What do you mean you're not coming?! Those things will kill-!"

"They'll kill all of us if we all go. We'll never reach the ground in time before they tear this whole thing apart. I…I want you guys to go on, I'll keep you guys covered."

"Rebecca, stop." Chris countered, "Get in here now."

Without warning, she aimed the barrel of the handgun at them, emotionless but firm. Jill stifled a gasp, Chris stared in disbelief at her, his mouth hung at her startling actions.

She gazed at Chris, smiling softly, "I'll be okay, really…I'll catch up, just get Jill some medical attention, leave these things up to me."

Jill shook her head in disbelief, "We're not leaving without-"

"Just go!" she begged them, abruptly altering her stance to face the army of on-coming monsters, firing briskly. She whipped her barrel to the side to empty the cartridge, slamming another in the chamber. Looking over her shoulder, Chris and Jill stood their ground, refusing to leave her alone to face the horde by herself.

"GO!" she snapped, her scream echoed through the atmosphere, nearly barrier shattering.

Chris and Jill didn't move, but stared at each other for some kind of answer. At last, Chris turned to face Rebecca.

"Alright..."he muttered, withdrawing the shotgun strapped around his back, "Take this then." and tossed the heavy firearm to her. With desperate hands she caught it, and found the oncoming horde within ten feet of her standing point, and prepared for the worst. The elevator rumbled, and with one last glance behind her, she caught a final glimpse of Jill's expression aghast, and Chris'…hurt.

She blinked away tears, focusing on the anger pooling her gut. Pumping the shotgun, her emerald eyes aflame with anger, she glared at them.

"Time to finish this."

--

No more than half a minute, the dark cube they occupied cracked and the dim lights of the hangar overhead shone through. The area was surprisingly desolate, and just as they stepped out of the elevator, the bitter cold of the snowy wasteland came rushing in. Jill seemingly regained a majority of control of her body, but still needed some help walking. They raced to the snow, their boots frozen against the vast white blankets of the wilderness. As expected, their rendezvous chopped resided nearly fifty from the hangar's opening, but the deep snow made the trek alone near impossible.

"Chris!" an echoed feminine voice filled the atmosphere over the roaring blades, waving their arms. "Hurry!"

The two nodded, but Chris lifted his opposite arm to the air, making a sort of signal with his hands. She girl nodded, disappearing from the lookout point, but reappeared moments later sliding down a cockpit from the bottom of the craft.

"Chris! Jill!" She cried, and up close, he came to realize it had been his sister up on the deck.

"Oh thank God you guys are alright…" Claire stopped, eyes scanning them, her eyebrows knit in worry, "…Where's Rebecca?"

Chris down casted his gaze, avoiding eye contact to see her hurt expression, "She stayed behind" he began, sighing, "There were too many of them to face, and offered to stay behind for us."

"What do you mean 'offered to stay behind'?! Is she coming back?!" Claire pressed her brother, "How could you just leave her-?"

"We didn't have a choice." Chris cut her off sharply, "She had us at gunpoint. Either we left or didn't stay, she wouldn't have it any other way."

Claire backed away, examining hangar up and down, but no sign of the Alpha medic appeared. She was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder, the medical team of three close behind him.

"Assistance required for Ms. Valentine?"

"Yes," Claire nodded, facing Jill, "Jill, go with these guys, they'll take good care of you."

Jill acknowledged Claire's command, aiding her trip through the remaining distance to the helicopter.

When they were finally out of earshot, Claire faced her brother.

"We need to find her," Claire spoke firmly, "As much faith as I have in her, I really don't think now's the time to test it."

Chris reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, looking down at her face, full of worry and anxiety.

"She'll be fine, I know she will be." Chris reassured her, overlooking the blaring red alarms flashing through the tower, "I know she will…"

--

Rebecca collapsed against the elevator's closed doors, pressing the button summoning the mass to her current floor. She sank to the floor, dropping Chris' shotgun as well and leaned back against the cool metal. Moans and screeches no longer filled the air, but instead replaced with her ragged breathing and calm feminine voice of the security system, a constant reminder she didn't have time to rest. Her team was waiting on her to fly out of there the minute she came. But the exhaustion forced down on her shoulders from the firefight said otherwise, refusing to allow herself to even stand up.

Rebecca's body quivered with fear, and the cool breeze howling through cracked windows and destroyed walls and ventilation shafts intensified it. Just as she began to zip up her jacket farther, she paused midway at the sound of an explosion-

She opened her eyes a crack and searched the room for a presence, thought nothing of immediate harm came into her sight. The mutilated body's of Umbrella's experiments scattered the floor, and painted the walls and herself a bright crimson, but nothing of immediate harm captured her attention. But soon followed, another explosion sounded off somewhere else in the room, startling her.

'Not an explosion, a gun…'

That's what woke her up. Her eyelids shot wide open and on her feet the next second. Pistol in hand, she scoped the area, looking for any kind of giveaway as to what occupied the room besides herself. Rebecca held her breath, listening in and keeping the barrel trained on the darkness. She squinted, focusing hard to find some kind of creature in the shadows-

-suspicions proven correct. After many long seconds of staring, a figured dashed, practically flew out of the darkness and into another pitch black territory, a gale of black wind following close behind.

Rebecca leapt away from the elevator, pressing herself close against a thin plaster wall opposite her enemy. Forcing her mouth shut, she slowed her breathing quietly enough to listen in for any noise, any give away to make her move. Subconsciously, the roaring voice of the alarm system made her wish she had wings.

"Warning: Self destruction has been initiated. All personnel must evacuate immediately. T-minus four minutes until destruction."

'Four?!' She mentally cursed herself, slamming her head against the wall. 'How am I ever going to make it out in four-?!'

Three more shots rang out from the attacker's gun, each bullet piercing the wall, each one nearly missing her by inches. Scanning to see if she was okay, she managed to catch sight of the elevator, it's faded 'ding' and the doors slid open, just waiting for her to go in. Following the narrow shots, the wall she used as her weakened shield crumbled above her, leaving her vulnerable to whatever monster wished to claim her life. She ducked out of the way, rolling over to get to her feet, but instead found herself stifling a scream as whatever stalked her, raced in front of her in a blur and threw her gun clean across to the opposite corner of the vast.

Rebecca shook her head, regaining her senses and realized she was on the floor. Aside that, her shotgun had been left a ways away near the elevator, her handgun God knows where. No flash bangs, no grenades. She was practically naked.

Her eyes readjusted and it was then she saw the monster she had seen before covering Chris and Jill-

-turns out it wasn't even a monster at all.

"Giving up so soon?" he mocked, standing in front of her pathetic self, preventing her escape.

She tried to crawl away, tried to race through her mind for a plan, but all she could think about was screaming, screaming until her very last breath.

'Oh my God…'

"No…" She muttered, shaking her head, wanting to disapprove of him, "It can't be you…"

He smirked.

"Oh, but I am Ms. Chambers…"

--

Anxiously, Chris glanced often back at the crumbling facility, struggling to keep his concerns under control.

"…Where is she?" Chris muttered, tapping the sides of his pants impatiently.

"Maybe she needs help!" Claire glared at him, "Should could be on the floor dying for all we know!"

Chris exhaled sharply, the puffy white clouds carried off with the wind. Claire was right, she could have been seriously injured, and if she truly was, there wasn't a doubt in his mind she would be escaping the facility without assistance. The mission alone was plain suicide.

"Warning: Self destruction has been initiated. All personnel must evacuate immediately. T-minus three minutes until destruction."

"She's been gone long enough!" Claire called over the whipping of the chopper blades, "I'm going after her!"

Chris placed his hand firmly on her shoulder, she stared at him, her icy blues swimming with fear.

"No," he stopped her, "Stay here, I'll go after her. I promise I'll come back soon."

"How do you know she's okay?" Claire eyes floated to the facility, "How do you know where to go?"

"I memorized the floor before we left, "Chris spoke, flashing her a weak smile, "And she's a strong person, I just know she's alright."

Claire nodded, backing away from him, and in a flash he was already gone, taking off to the hangar through the darkness of the night. She sighed, closing her eyes to force away the fear overwhelming her. Rebecca was just like another sister to her, as was to Chris. Just the thought of imagining Chris coming back without her, coming back at all…

Just as the tears began to tingle in her eyes, a firm hand took hold of her shoulder, and overlooked her shoulder to see Leon standing next to her, his expression calm and collected as it always was.

"Don't worry Claire," he reassured her, "He's your brother, doesn't he always come back?"

Claire nodded slowly, leaning closer to him as he rub her back in soft, relaxing motions. He was right, her brother always survived anything, no matter how dire the situation. He just had to come back.

…right?

--

Five seconds never felt so long in her life. For a lifetime, it felt she sat there, whimpering in fear, hating how weak she sounded. He walked closer to her, pathetically, she crawled backwards aimlessly. He laughed at her futile attempts, watching her cower in fear, and loving every moment of it. At last, he cornered her against the wall, paralyzed in fear.

"Don't be so scared, Rebecca," he taunted, "You're not the useless medic you used to be, correct?"

"Bastard!" she spat, attempting to put up a strong front, "It's because of you I was useless! I watched my friends die that night, you set us all up!"

"Now now Ms. Chambers, let's leave the water under that bridge, shall we?" He teased, "Why don't you show me what you've learned?"

In that instant, he wound his arm back, targeting her. Her eyes darted past his tall figure, keeping her eyes constantly on the open elevator, forming a plan of her escape. He growled, summoning all the energy in his body and leapt with his fist, ready to beat her to death. She didn't think twice, ducking under his fist crawling on all fours, just narrowly missing his punch. He whipped his head around, and saw what she was doing: a desperate escape to the open elevator.

She ran, and though she knew he was fast, she pressed on anyway, just desperate to get out of there. Only a few steps into her dash, she saw a blur of black whoosh past her vision, and stopped right in front of her. She skidded to an abrupt stop, pivoting herself to the opposite direction, but in a blink, he was once again blocking her from moving anywhere with his sense of speed, she'd never make it out.

"I expected more from you," Wesker stated, calm and authoritative, as his voice always had been, "How foolish to believe you'd learned a thing or two since the Spencer mission."

'I can't fight him…' her conscious whispered, 'Not without getting myself killed, but if he won't leave without a fight, I have to!'

Rebecca swallowed heavily, wielding the knife from her shoulder, gripping the blade tightly in her fist, "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get."

His expression twisted into a half smile, his red eyes piercing the dark lenses of his trademark sunglasses. Out of amusement, probably. She held her ground, ready to charge him at any moment.

--

The snow the first time through had been rough. Truthfully, now that he and Jill paved some kind of path through the deep snow, Chris regained his ability to run, and was lucky for that much. Gun in hand, Chris darted toward the hangar once again. He stumbled a few times in the rush of arriving at the solid concrete, and raced over to the elevator that he and Jill had taken, already summoned back to another floor. He clicked the orange arrow impatiently, waiting for what seemed like eons for it to come.

"Come on, come on…" Chris mumbled, throwing his head upward toward the ceiling.

--

He made the first movement, and was behind her in a split second. She whipped around to slash at him but found he had a tight grip on her arm, effortlessly disarming her knife. She swung to slug him in the face, but dodged it and threw one her way. The rush of wind rushed past her face just barely missing her, but made her sick to her stomach how powerful it felt alone by the wind current he produced. She flew her leg in the air for a roundhouse kick, but Wesker blocked it with his forearm.

"Warning: Self destruction has been initiated. All personnel must evacuate immediately. T-minus two minutes until destruction."

"Pitiful." Wesker spoke, disappointment present, "I expected to make this fight last. Unfortunately I've got work to do. Do me a favor and tell Chris I said hello!"

Wesker slammed his knee into her gut, and she doubled over in pain, hissing through her teeth. He had a tight on her slender neck, she choked and sputtered as he jerked her ear to his lips.

"I'll be sure not to miss this time, my dear…" Wesker whispered, chuckling darkly. His breath on her neck made her shiver. Aiming the cold barrel at her chest, his scarlet irises glowed from behind his sunglasses, glaring at her in satisfaction.

"No!" she cried desperately, "PLEASE-!"

-But the calls were useless. Mercilessly, he pulled the trigger, silencing her in seconds.

Rebecca looked for the breath to scream, the breath to cry even, but only silence sat on her tongue with the bullet he fired pierced her body. Beginning to feel the unconscious realm dawning on her, she didn't resist the darkness encroaching on her vision. Her head fell limp in Wesker's wrist, blood seeped from her mouth and dripped onto his gloved hand.

Lifting her body in the air, he wound back his arm once again at the very beginning, his other hand slamming into her chest. Hard. She found herself flying through the air, time slowing, as did her faltering heart, crashing heavily into another wall, sliding to the ground with the blood trailing behind and pooling beneath her. Opening an eye just barely he saw him standing there, so far away, and the cool metal she felt at her cheek…she was in the elevator.

The force of the landing was hard enough, for soon after her rough landing, snaps and crunches echoed above and around the elevator. In mere moments, the sanctuary she searched for jerked, and in a split second realization, instantly knew what was happening- even as the small cube jerked again, and the abrupt drop from the stable balance.

The cables snapped.

Shit.

The intensity of it all didn't scare her though. With her near-dead state as she already was, she embraced it. The pain subsided and was replaced with numbness and the world as she knew it was fading.

With her vanishing consciousness, she forced her eyes shut and plunged to earth.

--

"Damn thing, hurry up!" Chris swore, pounding on the metal doors in frustration. Time as its own essence was running short of what he needed, and the panic began to set in his gut. Growling, he sprinted to the opposite elevator, just across the hangar. He went to reach for the button, nearly halfway there-

-when a massive crash of metal and ventilation combined emanated from behind him.

Chris' gaze locked with the metallic mass obliteration in front of him, taken aback. He was running out of time to reach the floor once again, but the sudden collision the elevator had with the floor was suspicious all on its own. Keeping a close glance at the debris, Chris approached the scrap and kept his finger close on the trigger. Slowly, his vision scanned the mess when he came closer. Stepping on top of some crumbled concrete, he realized the thing plummeted right to the floor, and crashed in on an angle.

Finally, with one glance into the hollow center, Chris felt his heart stop.

Inside the shallow confined space, he found a body lying still at the bottom. Bloody and unconscious, but the youthful features on her pale face told him exactly who it was.

"Rebecca!" Chris cried, rushing inside to her crumpled figure.

She was lying curled on her side, unresponsive to his call. Her green jacket had been stained a dark crimson, and blood ran all the way down her chin. Lowering himself to one knee, Chris turned her body gently to face himself, but careful to avoid any unnecessary movement. Already, he could tell she was in bad shape. Her eyelids flickered, and her struggled breathing sounded frightened, like an asthmatic.

Softly, he slapped at her cheeks to get her attention, but received a whimper in return. She couldn't register what was going on, and probably scared to death not knowing.

"Rebecca," Chris whispered, patting her icy cheeks, "Come on Rebecca, open your eyes."

She still couldn't. As much as the comforting sound of Chris' voice signaled she was safe, she was afraid to open her eyes to face what the crash had done to herself. She clenched her fingers together, curled her toes, simple tasks to believe that she wasn't paralyze. But in reality she was. The shock of the events was so intense she could barely move, let alone open her eyes. Her head was spinning, she was sick to her stomach, and felt as if she'd shattered every bone in her body. The cool air of the atmosphere outside shook her body uncontrollably, and the sensation brought numbness to the remainder of her exposed skin.

"Hurt…" she mumbled, holding back sobs, "C-cold…"

"Don't talk Rebecca," Chris demanded, placing his hand on her shoulder, "Save your energy. We're gonna get you out of here, just hang on."

She tried to nod, but again, she couldn't even find the energy to do so.

"I'm going to put you on my shoulder and carry you back to the chopper, okay?"

"N-no…don't…"

"Hmm?"

"Shot…" she choked, spitting out the blood in her mouth, "My chest…"

Chris eyes dilated at her words, and overlooking her torso, indeed there had been a bullet wound opening, the shiny metal still held in place by the torn tissue.

"Shit," Chris cursed, facing her once again, "We'll need to get you to some medical attention immediately."

She heard him move, and felt his arms slip underneath her shoulders. Zipping up the remainder of her jacket, he flipped the hood over her head as well. Sliding his other arm underneath her knee caps, he rose from the ground. He cautioned stepping over the broken and cracked rock littering the opening, but half dashed, half jogged when he came to the snow, Rebecca tight in his chest.

The path he'd paved earlier had been proven worthless as the heavy snowfall above carpeted the walkway once again. He trudged through the cold snow, up to his mid-calf the frozen wasteland slowed his journey, but not halted completely. The wind was picking up, the gusts of wind and ice came and whipped him across the face.

"...'ker..." he heard her whisper, but failed to make out what she was saying.

"What?"

She shivered, moaning, "...'esker'...'We...sker'..."

He couldn't reply.

'Wesker?!' his mind screamed, 'Impossible! How could we have missed him? We were right there and that asshole was hiding…just waiting for her…?'

No time. He couldn't allow anger to cloud his current objective. Gradually, the chopper became bigger and bigger, but every second he wasn't getting her treated was another second lost, closer to death. His suspicions were only proven by the way her body slackened, her face nearly ghost white.

'Goddamnit, not fast enough…'

Wading through the snow became progressively difficult, but he refused to stop, refused to give up and let her die.

Claire saw him through the icy mist and made her way toward him, stumbling just as bad as he had. It took her a moment to realize that Rebecca wasn't with him, but in a bittersweet victory she really was with Chris…in his arms, slackened and unresponsive.

She dashed to meet him nearly midway before he flagged her down. When he finally came close enough, she observed and concluded he wasn't wounded at all, but Rebecca on the other hand…made her sick to her stomach.

"What happened…?" Claire spoke slowly, her tone laced with worry.

Chris didn't give her the answer she needed, "Get to the meds and tell them we've got a seriously injured member."

She didn't deny. A simple nod of her head and she rushed the chopper's opening. Tears pricked at her eyes, and was suddenly thankful the cold made everyone's eyes swollen. Even their medical team submitted to theirs gumming up as well. They were still overlooking Jill, but she now sported a thick white bandage wrapped around her calf. Aside the bumps and bruises, she looked fine.

"Captain Redfield?"The doctor questioned, moving to approach her. "Is everything alright?"

Her gaze rose to meet those of his hazels. Shaking her head, "No, we've got a badly injured comrade, prep the department immediately."

He bowed, acknowledging her wishes and raced out the door, probably to meet Chris. Claire looked past the remaining two to meet Jill's terrified expression.

"Claire," Jill stated firmly, "Is Rebecca okay?"

Claire looked away, approaching the small window to see the doctor out near Chris, ushering him inside.

"Claire?"

"No," She shook her head, closing her eyes, "No, I think Rebecca's far from ever being okay."

--

She suffered too much damage from the fall. Arriving at the base had taken too much time, and she slipped into a coma without warning. For almost a month, he visited her room ever so often, but she was just so...lifeless. Her green eyes were forced close, the love and happiness she emanated was stripped from her spirit. In the passing days, her condition only grew worse than the previous day, closer and keeping her head trained closer to death. Finally, after the agonizing days of waiting and watching...she slipped away. Nightmares lied etched in his mind the nights following, hearing her mumbling his name over and over in his head, '…Wesker…'

Rising from her memorial, Chris proceeded to the final one. Keeping a loose grip on the final rose, he slipped the stem into the flower cup of the grave marker. Painfully, he forced his blue gaze to the caption.

JILL VALENTINE

1975-2006

Noble Comrade,

Caring Friend.

Jill Valentine. Just hearing her name felt like a thousand daggers through the chest. The woman was smart, charming, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous from the day he met her. She truly was a symbol of strength, through her exploits of the Spencer Mansion, Russia, and escaping Raccoon all on her own. For years, they'd been friends, but as the missions got tougher and the brutal betrayal of Wesker, that friendship grew stronger, unbreakable.

Unbreakable that is, until their last assignment…

--

Claps of thunder and lightning echoed throughout the valley and towering cliffs. Darkness reigned over the mansions and signs of a storm approached. Guns in hand, Chris and Jill stalked the dim hall to its end. With a head nod, Chris gestured his partner to the door that lay closed before them. Silent footsteps ceased as they leaned against the wooden mass, facing the other. Intently, they listened for voices on the other side, but failed, for the roaring thunder overhead drowned every little sound out. Jill kept her eyes trained on his, ready for the command. Seconds following, Chris mouthed, "Go!"

Seizing the door, their combined weight burst open the entrance and rushed in, guns aimed. Breath caught in astonishment, Jill's eyes focused in on the empty wheel chair parked at the top of the steps. A blood trail streamed down, clearly pinpointing the motionless figure lying face down on the tiled floor. A corpse. Spencer's corpse.

Her eyes floated back to the large windows, a silhouette stood among the glass, facing their back to them. Slowly, it turned to meet their eyes, no emotion detected on his face. The blond hair, the black outfit, the sunglasses...it was all too familiar. The strike of lightening following only confirmed their suspicions: The spine chilling, scarlet orbs staring back.

"Wesker!" Chris yelled, firing clicked the trigger viciously, Jill followed suit in emptying her clip into Wesker.

In a heartbeat, he was already standing at the west end of the room. Then the east. He was moving so fast, so immortally, they couldn't get a single shot off of him, not even as he charged Chris, disarming him and throwing a few punches his way, complete with an uppercut. Chris collapsed to the floor, Wesker focused on rushing Jill dodging her gunshots like they were nothing, slammed her up against the wall in a choke hold. In the process, the gun fell from her hand, skidding somewhere across the floor, out of reach. She writhed under his grasp, trying hard to relieve her body's suspension. Chris regained his composure, seeing Jill suffocated by Wesker. Realization of Jill's distress, he jumped to his feet to aid her, body slamming him hard enough to lose his balance and free Jill. No matter how hard and fast his attacks, Wesker seemed to be one step ahead, eluding them flawlessly.

Chris focused his energy to his hand, driving his fist into the blonde's face, but failed, for Wesker was too fast, simply grasping the fist in his hand. Swinging his arm around overhead, it opened a perfect opportunity to launch his gloved fist right into Chris' face with a sickening, wet snap. Chris didn't surrender, countering Wesker's attack with a roundhouse kick, easily blocked. Retrieving her gun, Jill noticed Chris' state of need, Wesker wouldn't show any mercy for either of them.

She fired once again, Wesker shoved Chris out of her cross hairs, each and every shot missed, each missing by just millimeters. He jumped in mid air, spun, and landed on his feet, a perfect dismount. She shot one final time before the hollow click drew her attention: She sucked the whole clip dry, and tossed the empty handgun away, no longer useful.

Chris carried on with his futile attempts at landing a shot on Wesker, blocked just as before, complete with a blow to the face. Jill withdrew her combat knife and bolted to Wesker, aimed to jab it right in his stomach. With quick reaction, he twisted her equipped arm in a circular path above her body, thrusting the opposite straight into her chest. The air in her lungs seemingly vanished on spot, even as she flew through the air. Chris lied there, dazed from the assault when he saw his enemy closing in on him, fast. Looking up toward the ceiling, he was grabbed by his vest and yanked from the ground, suspended above Wesker.

Jill regained her lost composure from her encounter with the wall, breathing heavily, she looked toward the two men and saw Chris, dangling from his tactical vest, and Wesker glared at him fiercely.

"No!" she cried out, kicking her legs up, sprinting toward them. She knew what he was about to do. The way he leveled his arm told it all, and she wasn't about to let that happen. Without a second doubt, she grit her teeth, holding back the bitter tears she felt coming.

"Let's finish this." Wesker mocked him, straightening his arm an angle toward Chris.

Jill lunged toward him, crying out. Everything seemed to slow down as she attached herself to her former captain and threw both her and him toward the window, hard enough to make Wesker drop Chris. Shattered glass showered over them as they plummeted down the summit, arms wrapped tightly around Wesker. Wind cut through her clothing, dust and sand flew into her eyes as the bitter decent to the valley floor. She was suddenly glad she was on Wesker's back, for he would of saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, silently praying for Chris.

Chris rolled on his back to his knees in a scramble. His mind felt like it was racing a thousand miles an hours, millions of thoughts invading his mind, trying to register what just happened. Breathing became heavier, his body quivered violently, in the realization he didn't want to accept. The sting of tears lingered in his eyes, reaching out the window to his fallen partner, useless.

"JILLLL!!!!"

--

She was gone. She was gone and she wasn't coming back. For months, they searched everywhere within miles of the estate, yet the body had never been found. He poured every hour of the day and night into the office and working out. Of every life that had been lost, Jill's just broke the scale balancing everything. Everything about her made him who he was. Her kindness, her selflessness, their friendship. All they had been through, every mission, every minute spent protecting the world, was all for nothing.

Slowly rising to his feet, Chris kept his eyes trained on the headstones all lined up. He refused to allow anymore lives to be lost, to allow anyone else be hurt. Too many lives had been thrown away, and as he stood back and looked among those graves, he firmly intended on keeping that. No more sacrifices should be made to free the world of bioterrorism. It was a chore just to get out of bed in the morning, it was more a question of why? Why should he even step out of the house? It wasn't like he was making a difference any more than a normal day at the office. Living without those precious to him was torture all on its own. The bright smiles, the lively voices, all were nothing more than a distant memory in his history book.

After everything, after the Mansion, Raccoon City's destruction, Rockfort, Harvardville, everything, they were dead.

Sadness and remorse swallowed him abruptly, and all of a sudden, it was hard to breath, hard to break his gaze from the three graves. It had been long enough, almost a decade of strength, emotionless demeanor, it was no longer needed. After blinking them away, he submitted, allowing tears to fall freely from his eyes, without regret. A "foundation" for the team wasn't necessary, it may have been long ago, but no longer. He may of been that label for so many years, but bitterly, he questioned himself, "...What team?"

Nearly a decade of strength, a decade of fighting had passed…

-even after all the years holding and supporting everything, he finally crumbled. Chris didn't resist the flow of tears pouring down his cheeks, every single drop, bottled up over the years, was finally coming now that he was alone in that cemetery, now that everyone was gone.

He silently prayed they were okay. He wished for nothing more than for them to be securely in a better place to whatever deity that lived beyond earth. Claire to be reunited with their parents, Rebecca resting peacefully with her teammates, and Jill...embraced in serenity, and watching over him from above now and forever through every battle to come.

Never had the world seem so dark. Never had reality felt so broken in the dawn of his awakened sorrow.


A/N: Whoa, that was a huge one. 26 pages in Word. Wow. So there's your Christmas present, huge-ass oneshot from KT. XD

I've been meaning to do something like this for while now. The angst and sadness counterbalance with regret and remorse so it really paints a dark picture. Poor Chris, I could only imagine this as a mere glimpse after he lost his Jilly. XC

Anyway, I KNOW Claire and Rebecca's deaths aren't cannon (That'd be pretty damn sad if they were, though. ;__;) So if we should ever learn that these are cannon somewhere in the future, I swear to God I'm no psychic XD Chances are slim anyway, this is just an interpretation.

I kinda ran out of time, and was royally pissed when I saw Rebecca's thing was like 3x longer than Claire and Jill's combined -.- I'll go back sometime and try to make those longer, but I ran out of ideas for them -sigh-, I'm not the best at characterizing Claire and Jill anyway, I'm afraid I'd ruin them ^.^'.

But loads of ROOT inspiration, there's the uppy :D

By the way, little side note: In Rebecca's scenario, the fight with Wesker, that punch he uses on her to send her flying into the elevator is the same move from RE4 Mercs. I love his super punch X3

Very odd posting something like this at such a happy time of the year (But hey, you should know me by now?).

Lastly, hope you enjoyed this all my reviewers. And Chris, you're the bestest friend I could ever ask for! ^-^

Reviews are TRULY appreciated here! I'm pretty sure I scared off some people by the length of it XD Seriously, a simple "Holy crap this rules! :DDD" is enough to make my day. But of course, the long speculating reviews are always welcomed! Just no flames please.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!

-KT ^-^