Hurricane Drunk
Chapter One
"No walls can keep me protected
No sleep, nothing in between me and the rain..."
It's so dark that I can't see anything, except for blurry flashes of color. I see the outline of an arm here and there, the highlight of my hand in front of my face as some mystery source of light briefly catches it. It's humid as hell and I'm sweating so profusely that it's dripping down my forehead, stinging my eyes. I can taste it in my mouth, just like I can taste my heartbeat. My desire. I feel hands on my body, sliding down my sweat-soaked chest. Familiar hands. Loving and loved hands. I can feel the hands joined by a wet, balmy mouth that's as humid as the rest of the room. I'm panting and I think I'm moaning, but my head is spinning with desire and lust and affection and love, so it's hard for me to tell up from down anymore. I reach down and run my fingers through short, sweaty hair that I know is brown, though I can't see anything in the darkness. I feel his mouth smile against my stomach as it slips lower and lower. God, that perfect fucking mouth, wrapping around my painfully hard cock.
"Piers," I whisper as I feel the muscles of his throat working me. Fuck, I wish I could see him right now. I wish I could look down and see him looking up at me with those golden hazel eyes of his while my dick ploughs into his mouth. His hands are so strong on my thighs. This feels so fucking good, but I still pull him up because I want to kiss those lips. I want to devour them and feel his breath and swallow the air that's been inside his body. I want to feel his heart slamming against my chest, beating with the same rapid rate as my own.
He grins against my mouth as my hands find his erection in the dark. We're both sweating so much that our hands slide all over each other's bodies. Not that either of us is complaining. Piers and I are the only two people in the world right now. There's now BOWs. There's no BSAA. There's no rest of the world. There's only us.
"Chris," he whispers against my mouth, breath hitched as I jerk him off. "Chris."
I groan and devour his mouth. It's the first thing I'd ever noticed about Piers. It's so beautiful and fuckable and perfect. His hands are all over my shoulders and neck and chest as we kiss, although kiss is a really poor word for the way we've fused our mouths together like our lives depend on it. We've done this together before, so our bodies move in perfect sync. As we make love, we're the only two people in the world.
"Are you so certain about that?" A voice gently whispers in my ear from behind, cooling the sweat on my neck. The voice is equally as chilly, filled with cold malice that makes my blood run cold, yet sets fire to it at the same time, even after all that's passed between us. "A second-rate substitute won't make me disappear, Chris."
I try to turn away from the serpentine sound of Albert's voice, but the way he says my name still causes me to gasp. The memory of him is so strong that the ghostly memory of him becomes real. I can feel his hands on me, moving across my slick body along with Piers's with the same level of familiarity. Albert's hands have marked this territory before. He knows me inside and out, knows my weaknesses. Knows how much I still yearn for his touch, deep down. Both of their mouths are moving along my chest, neck, shoulders and face, both of them whispering my name. I'm drowning in my desire for Piers, and in the lust for Albert that won't fucking die.
"Chris," they whisper together, Piers's earnest, loving voice and Albert's cool, detached voice. I get closer and closer to orgasm, even as the feeling of drowning intensifies. The sweat on my body instantly becomes like ice as we're sliding through cold, black water. I can feel my grip on Piers weakening, can feel him sliding away from me. I grip him tighter against my chest, wincing as Albert's hands touch him, too. I jerk my shoulder to try and protect Piers from Albert's caress, as if his mere touch will poison any part of Piers's flesh it comes in contact with. I want to keep him safe from my ghosts. I want to keep him...
The water that's rushing around us now pulls Piers away from me. I reach for him, but only come up with a fistful of cold water. Piers is calling my name, and I can see a flash of fear in his face in the limited light. I can see his hand reaching out for me as Albert and I descend through the cold water. My lungs burn, and water fills my mouth as I scream Piers's name. The salty brine fills my lungs, and the pressure of the descent begins to crush my body, Albert's arms still around me, pulling me down. I can feel him penetrate me as we drown, the familiar burn of it moving up my spine. I open my mouth in a moan that's not from pain. The water begins to boil as we drown together, locked in an embrace we're destined to act out forever. As my body reaches orgasm because of Albert's caresses, we're consumed by the water that has become molten magma, Piers and Albert both calling my name as we burn alive...
Chris gasped and jerked awake, his eyes burning from the sweat and unshed tears. The sheets tangled him up like a mummy, so he couldn't move. The whole bed felt wet, like he was still drowning. When he finally got himself disentangled enough from the sheets to sit up, Chris noticed that there was semen splattered all over his belly. He sucked in his breath and willed away the crest of tears that seemed to be always at the surface. Ever since Piers died. The sweat on his skin felt cold and clammy as memory and guilt washed over him. Another memory mixed in with a nightmare. Ever since Chris had come back to the world after his PTSD amnesia nearly six months earlier, he'd get flashes of memory, of things that'd happened, but that he'd forgotten. Like Piers.
"Fuck," he whispered, balling the sweat-soaked sheets in his fists as he tried to gain control of himself. Tried to not fall apart at the seams. He felt thin, like an old, worn sheet spread too tightly across a bed frame. One wrong move and the whole thing would rip apart. Life had worn him down to the point of near transparency.
Chris sighed and looked up at the ceiling, pulling himself together. People needed him, and he couldn't just fucking fall apart. They looked up to him. They counted on him. He flopped back down against the still sweaty pillows, and groaned when he saw the red numbers of the alarm clock out of the corner of his eye. It had only been 40 fucking minutes since he'd fallen asleep. Again. He tried to close his eyes and think of the impeding heaviness of sleep. Chris tried to let his body relax, but every time he began to slip under the surface of consciousness, he could hear the ghostly whisper of his name ruffling the hair at the back of his neck. He could hear the mocking laughter in Wesker's voice. He could feel Piers's hands slipping out of his own.
He gave up sleep as a lost cause and shuffled off to the tiny kitchenette in the equally tiny apartment that he was using while on this current BSAA mission. The walls had water damage, there were cockroaches, and it smelled awful, but it was still better than a lot of the living conditions they were surrounded by in Edonia.
He lowered himself into a rickety vinyl chair and rested his elbows on the table, which wobbled precariously. He hated being here. He hated it. This is where he lost more men. This is where his life had begun to fall apart. This is where Piers...
Chris punched the table, wishing he could punch himself in the face. The dreams that plagued him, he was beginning to realize that they weren't all figments of his imagination. Actually, none of it was. It was more the context that was imagined. He was beginning to realize that his dreams about Piers had actually happened. He and Piers had been together, and he'd forgotten it all until now. Everything in his mind was still a little foggy about Edonia and China, and the period leading up to it, but pieces were starting to come together. Just too fucking late to make any difference.
Chris felt the tears that he was always trying to hold at bay stinging his eyes. Why didn't Piers say anything after finding Chris in that shithole bar and bringing him back?! Why did he act as if nothing had happened between them?! Maybe... maybe because Chris had just ditched him and ran away from the military hospital. Maybe because Chris hadn't acknowledged it at all. Maybe he'd felt like Chris hadn't cared, and it wasn't worth remembering...
"Fuck." He punched the table again and considered trying to make some coffee, but the water here tasted like shit and he'd run out of bottled. Besides, the thought of food going into him made his whole body churn. He noticed an English newspaper on the table and slowly brought it towards himself. Jill must have left it for him. Briefly when he touched the newsprint, he felt sweaty flesh stretched over lean, hard muscle under his fingertips.
Chris shook his head and tried to forget the ghosts that now seemed to constantly plague him. He tried to focus instead of the newspaper... anything to distract him from the thought of Piers. From the thought of Albert Wesker. It had been a while since he'd had a dream about the man who'd so thoroughly shaped and destroyed his heart, but he figured that he'd never truly stopped thinking about Wesker. Chris had just gotten good about putting those thoughts and regrets and lingering feelings on the backburner. Especially when Piers had come into the picture.
He shook his head and pushed the thoughts out of his head by reading the newspaper from front to back. He read the shittiest fluff pieces about celebrity couples he'd never heard of having affairs with other celebrities he didn't care about. He did the Sudoku, the crossword, the jumble, the cryptoquip, the word search, read every help wanted, personal and for sale ad. But that horrible gnawing feeling still stuck with him through all the petty distractions. The gnawing guilt of not being able to remember what he and Piers had shared, not until it was too late.
The only thing that briefly distracted him was an article about a lab stateside that was doing research into spinal cord nerve regeneration. They were hoping to have a cure for para-and quadriplegia. That sort of news would make a lot of military people, people like Chris, very happy. Paralysis and amputation were a nightmarish fact of a soldier's life that they had to accept, but always feared. What particularly caught his eye about the article was talking about the possible growth of new limbs through stem cell research.
"We want to assure that these tests are ethical, and that there is no possible method of contagion," a Dr. Alexander Leary was quoted as saying after being grilled by reporters about the regenerative properties of the research. "There is no possible way that this research could be used as a biological weapons agent. We are not trying to create the newest Edonia, China or Tall Oaks, here. We are not the labs below Raccoon City. We just want to try and find a cure for degenerative nerve disorders, for loss of function. The research is still very preliminary, and the growth of human limbs may be something we look at in the future, but it would be decades away. Right now, we just want to help people walk again."
Chris didn't know if he believed in 'ethical lab research' anymore. He'd seen too many horrors to believe in the good of anything, really. Except for Piers. And he was gone... just like so many other good things in his life.
"Hey, there."
Chris jerked and looked up, surprised not only by the voice, but that he'd actually been so engrossed in the article. Or maybe it was that he was so engrossed in thinking about Piers, and how the limb regrowth this Dr. Leary spoke about could have helped him... if he'd lived.
"Didn't sleep?" Jill asked, lowering herself into one of the other battered chairs. She was in her full gear, ready for another day in trying to clean up the Edonia mess, be it the BOWs or the civil war.
Chris knew he couldn't lie to Jill, since they knew each other too well for that. He just shrugged and laid the paper down, rubbing his eyes. He felt exhausted down to his core, but the idea of sleep terrified him.
"I think we should be keeping an eye on that research." Jill tapped the article he'd just been reading, her brow knitted together in tense concern. She had more wrinkles now than even a year ago. "They say it's ethical, but..." She sighed. "Chris, maybe you should ask for some stress leave. What did Dr. Weston say?"
Chris just shrugged again. "Jill, I'm fine."
"You didn't go see her, did you?" Jill referred to one of the psychiatrists on the BSAA payroll.
"I did," Chris assured. After what happened in China, it had been mandatory. "And I poured my little heart out, so you can get that look off your face."
"What look?" Jill asked innocently, popping her eyebrow.
"Bitch, please."
"Okay, okay. I can't lie to you, honey. But... are you sure you were ready to come back? Especially to this mission?"
You're never going to be ready, a familiar, serpentine voice whispered in the back of Chris's mind. He ignored it, as he'd done for years. Every once in a while, Wesker's ghostly voice would act as Chris's internal voice of self-doubt. It slithered down his spine in a way that made him shudder, but would never quite be unwelcome. He didn't want to tell her that Dr. Weston had worried about him going back to active duty. That she had brought up mentions that he may be suffering not only from post traumatic stress disorder, but that he had symptoms of an anxiety disorder, and he may have always had these issues, and had lost his ability to 'deal' with the worry, the gnawing guilt, the swells of panic over things he couldn't control.
"Chris..." Jill began.
"I can do this, Jill. I have to."
Jill bit her lip, reaching across the table and covering Chris's hand with her own. "He would have understood, Chris." Chris and Piers had been very discreet, but she knew Chris so well that it had been silly of him to try and hide the affair with his subordinate soldier.
"Maybe I wouldn't understand," Chris snapped, rubbing his eyes again. "I can't abandon this mission again, Jill. I fucked off and fucking drank for six months while I should have been here. I didn't tell Claire or you where I was. And Piers... Maybe things would be going better if I hadn't—"
"Chris, you can't..."
"I forgot him, Jill!" Chris whispered, but it cut through the dingy kitchen like a gunshot. "I didn't remember being in love with him until after he was gone. He must have thought..."
"He loved you," Jill murmured, feeling helpless. Chris had been her constant, her gentle rock for so long that it hurt her to see him falling apart like this. "You don't make that kind of sacrifice unless you love someone."
"Then, why didn't he say anything...?"
Jill opened her mouth to respond, but really didn't have an answer. "Did anyone tell you that we found a new lab location, about 20 miles outside of the city?"
Chris shook his head, trying to forget that look in Piers's eyes as Chris's escape pod raced away into the black waters. Away from him...
"We're going to go check it out, but you should stay behind."
"Jill..."
"Chris, you're not ready for this. God knows what we'll find."
Chris frowned, pulling his hand away from his dearest friend's. He'd almost lost her too, just like so many others. His face became closed and steely. "I'm fine, Jill. What kind of lab?"
She didn't reply for a long time, and just stared at him in a stony silence that he matched perfectly. She blew her breath up into some vagrant strands of light brown hair that had come out of her modest ponytail. After what had happened to her at Wesker's hands in Africa, she'd shaved her head bald, wanting to remove the bleached blonde locks that reminded her of him every time she looked in the mirror. Her hair grew so slowly that it was only now that she had enough to pull back properly.
"Fine. Fuck it." She threw up her hands. "It's old-school, Chris. Like... Spencer era Umbrella old-school. That Jake kid's from Edonia, right?"
"Yes..." Chris said, face not giving anything away. Jake hadn't come to collect on Chris's promise to talk about Wesker, and he was glad of it. Seeing that mouthy brat's face would just bring up too many ugly memories right now. What do you mean, bring them up? They're already front and center, my pet. Wesker's voice slithered in the back of Chris's mind.
"So, that means that Wesker was here about 20 years ago. This may be one of Umbrella's original labs, back when they were just starting to develop the T-Virus and the T-Veronica. It would have been before S.T.A.R.S. were ever conceived."
"You think anything would still even be living down there after all that time?" Chris asked dubiously. "Besides, if Wesker had been doing any research for Umbrella there, he would have either destroyed all the evidence, or polluted their data out of some egotistical need of his own."
"Maybe..." Jill trailed off. "I'm hoping that the place has long been sterilized, but I also wonder if someone else took it over. I mean, we know that several of Umbrella's old labs were sold off on the black market just before the biggest part of their collapse. TriCell's at the top of that list, especially because Wesker already had his tentacles in their business practices, too. There's also the Simmons family. Because we're only just finding out about him, there could be hundreds of facilities that we don't even know about yet."
"If it were The Family, wouldn't that Ada Wong clone have destroyed it?" Chris asked bitterly. "I mean, wasn't Carla his right-hand woman until he changed her genes so she'd look more like Ada Wong? God, I can't believe that sentence actually came out of my mouth. I hate our life."
Jill gave him a sympathetic smile that felt more like a grimace so stiff it may as well have been on a corpse. "These new J'avo may just be using the place as a new base. It would more than likely have what equipment they needed, even if it was two decades out of date."
"Let's go check it out." Chris rose to his feet, starting to gather his gear.
Jill wanted to protest. Hell, she wanted to pull rank and stop Chris from going out the door since she was his equal in every regard, but she didn't. She knew that he needed focus right now, or else he'd just sit in this shitty little apartment and think about Piers, and about everyone else he'd lost in his life, and blame himself somehow for failing them. Maybe she didn't stop him because this way she could keep an eye on him, too. Maybe this way he wouldn't run away again.
"Barry and Rebecca are going to come on this one, too," Jill said as they walked out into the sunlight. It was actually a pretty nice day out, with a cool spring breeze bringing the smell of earth over top of the stink of smoke and mortar and gasoline and despair.
"A big reunion, huh?" Chris asked without humor.
When Rebecca Chambers saw them coming towards the humvee, she bounced on the balls of her feet and waved. She'd been doing mostly lab work since joining the BSAA after Jill and Chris had created it, but she'd come to Europe as a field medic. She hadn't gotten much of a chance to see Chris in the years since Raccoon City, and briefly paused mid-wave when she saw how much older he looked. His eyes seemed so much darker, like the empty windows of an old haunted house.
"Long time no see!" Barry greeted from behind the wheel of the vehicle, leaning across the seat. He'd been doing mostly administrative duties, but looking at Chris now, Barry knew exactly why he and Rebecca suddenly found themselves back on the field. Jill was worried about him, and from the look in his eyes, it was easy to see why. Jill must have wanted some friendly, familiar faces around as some kind of support.
"Your beard's all grey now," Chris commented.
"Look who's talking there."
Chris couldn't help but chuckle as he touched the scruff on his cheeks and chin. It was true that there was more grey in his beard now than there had been since the last time he'd seen Barry. Hell, there was more grey now than there had been even three weeks ago.
"So, you're really thinking that Umbrella still may have something going on?" Rebecca asked, opening a dossier that they'd all been given from the recon team that found the facility. "Blasts from the past all around."
"We're probably just going to make sure the place is derelict before firebombing the fucking into oblivion," Barry pointed out as he pulled the large armored vehicle onto a bumpy road that led out of the city.
"Hmm, maybe. But once Umbrella went tits up, all kinds of crazies came out of the woodwork," Jill said, refastening all the straps on her utility vest. "I mean, Simmons was right under our noses, and even though Excella Gionne's been dead for a few years, there are still some backers for TriCell in the shadows. The J'avo here are still getting infected somehow, and Neo-Umbrella died before it even really got off its feet, so they're getting their juice from somewhere."
"Could just be a lone nut. Like... we could be walking into the set of Hostel or something," Rebecca said from the backseat, almost gleefully. Now that they were travelling, she realized how much she'd missed being in the field.
Somebody may have replied to Rebecca's comment, and somebody else laughed and they started making light conversation, but it was all a buzz in the background for Chris. The rocking of the car felt like the rocking of the waves when he'd been in the escape pod in Chinese waters, waiting for someone to come find him, but kind of hoping that nobody would. He'd lain on the floor of that fucking sphere, hating Piers for being so noble, hating that he'd done something stupid like thinking Chris's life was worth more than his. Hated him for leaving. Hated himself for not remembering his feelings for Piers until it was too fucking late to do anything about it.
"So, where is it tonight, Chris?"
Chris looked over and grinned as Piers strolled towards him. The moon was full, so it was easy to see the younger man's smile, even in the darkness. The bright moonlight reflected in his golden hazel eyes in a way that made Chris have to look away. He knew that Piers had caught him staring a couple times, and he'd been unable to help the flirting that would just push out of his mouth, even when he was trying to be professional with the attractive sniper. He didn't want to encourage anything because he feared it might be seen as a commanding officer taking advantage of his subordinates Or like some broken down older man pathetically going after a hot young thing. But with Piers... it wasn't like that at all. They were so in tune with each other. Chris had the same comfort with him that he had with Jill.
Chris looked up at the moon. "Not sure. Isn't your patrol almost over?"
Piers nodded, the smile still on his full lips. "Still hiking on a trail in New England at fall?" he asked, leaning against the railing of the building they were patrolling. It was a very quiet night, so they were continuing a conversation that they'd been having on and off for a week. Dreaming of places they'd rather be than in a war-torn part of Eastern Europe that was also facing possible BOW issues. So far they hadn't seen anything, but that didn't always mean it was all clear. These outskirt towns in Edonia were so deserted that the moonlight was the only illumination. It was actually kind of nice.
"Nah, not tonight," Chris answered, giving Piers a sidelong look. "I think today it's laying on the beach as the tide comes in. It's really hot so I'm sweaty, but the water is cool, so it balances out. There's music everywhere."
"Sounds like it's not just a fantasy," Piers said, leaning his sniper rifle against the railing.
"It isn't. Just remembering the last time I felt really... free." Chris shook his head. "Fuck, I was younger than you are now." Chris hated thinking about the age difference with Piers. It made him think uncomfortably of his last relationship, where there had also been a significant difference in years...
"Would this have been nude sunbathing?" Piers asked.
Chris looked over at him, and saw an unmistakable look in his eyes. Piers wasn't trying to hide the shameless flirting. It's not like Chris had ever exactly been secretive about his sexuality. He knew that kind of look in a man's eyes, because he knew it was in his own right now, too. "...maybe," he answered with a small shrug. His and Piers's gazes held as the younger man took a few steps closer, until he was very much within reach. "So, where are you tonight? On that spring break trip to the Mexican Riviera?"
"No. Tonight I'm standing on the verandah of a building that I'm sure used to be really beautiful before the residents of this places started bombing the hell out of each other. The moon is really full, and I'm looking at the hottest guy that I've ever seen, wondering why the fuck he hasn't kissed me yet."
Chris opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He knew that Piers was very forward and direct, but this caught him completely off-guard. "Maybe because it wouldn't be proper..." he whispered, voice cracking under the strain of wanting to do exactly what Piers asked.
"Fuck that." Piers closed the gap between them and cupped Chris's face between his hands and brought their lips together in a firm kiss. His tongue immediately pushed through Chris's lips, eagerly seeking passage into his mouth. It only took a second for Chris to respond in kind. Because they were roughly the same height, their hips pressed perfectly flush together. When Piers's breath caught in his throat at the friction, Chris let out a small but very masculine groan as his hands firmly and greedily sought their way across the clothed planes of Piers's body, until they were gripping his ass.
Piers smiled against Chris's mouth, the flats of their tongues lavishing together as his hands slid into Chris's hair. Though their hands were being rough and possessive, their mouths explored each other gently. Chris could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, and he was certain he felt Piers's heartbeat against his chest, thundering and racing like his own, even through their coats and Kevlar vests.
Piers rocked his hips, grinning and nipping at Chris's lower lip when the older man groaned from the friction. Chris felt a little lightheaded at the sensation of Piers's hardening cock rubbing against his own. His arms wrapped tightly around Piers's body, enjoying the feeling of warmth and nearness. The BSAA was a lonely life, and there was never much consideration for something as simple as a hug, or how fucking good it felt to kiss someone.
Piers was the first to break the kiss, but he did so with a reluctant grin. "I'm still supposed to be on patrol," he murmured, giving Chris's kiss-bruised lips another slow caress with his own mouth. "If my Captain caught me slacking, he'd be pretty angry."
"Sounds like a real bear."
"Here's hoping," Piers replied, deadpan. A smile cracked his sultry lips as he stepped away from Chris's embrace.
Chris shook his head and laughed quietly as their fingers still twined together, the last part of their bodies to break apart as Piers stepped away to pick up his rifle. "I can't believe you just said that."
"You can't?" Piers asked with a cocked eyebrow. "I kinda figured you'd be used to my directness by now. I'll be waiting for you in your room after your patrol is over. Can you believe I said that?" He grinned and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He started walking away to the other end of the balcony, putting a little extra saucy swing in his hips, laughing over his shoulder.
"Wait," Chris called. He knew he should stop this in its tracks. He was so much older than Piers, and it was inappropriate to be fooling around with one of his men. Instead, he said "you need the right key." God, he wanted this man, propriety be damned.
Piers turned around and walked backwards a couple of steps. "I guess I'm out of luck then, huh?"
The rest of Chris's patrol went by in a testosterone fuelled fog. A BOW could have walked right up to him and he wouldn't have noticed. He was too busy thinking about the taste of Piers's mouth, the way the lines of his body had fit so perfectly against Chris's own, the smell of his skin and hair, the curve of his lower lip just before they'd kissed. And... how right it had all felt.
After he was relieved by Bravo Team's Captain, he went towards his room, planning to jerk off a few times to release his sexual tension. Once in front of the door, Chris searched his pockets, but couldn't find his keys. He shook his head, part in annoyed amusement, part in admiration for Piers's ballsiness. Chris tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He went into his assigned room and closed the door, then promptly forgot how to do everything.
Piers lay reclined on Chris's bed, completely nude. The moonlight from the window mingled with the soft light from the lamp on the cheap bedside table illuminated the lean, muscular lines of him. Chris's eyes went straight to his groin, his own cock kicking almost painfully when he looked at Piers's penis, circumcised and half-erect with three barbell piercings flashing in the light. The small silver balls lined up in a vertical row on the top and bottom side of his cock. It made Chris's mouth water as he began to shed his clothing on instinct. He crossed the room, the only thing on his mind being how much he wanted that dick in his mouth.
Piers spun Chris's keyring around on his left index finger, a wry smirk on his lips and dark desire in his hooded eyes. "So... is one of these the right key?"
Chris was violently taken out of his daydream when the humvee hit a series of violent bumps. The one that brought him back to reality jerked Chris so hard that he banged his head against the window.
"Jesus Barry, learn to drive," Jill snapped, rubbing her own forehead.
"Hey, the road is complete shit, as you could plainly see if you looked out the window, Jill Sandwich."
She rolled her pale eyes. "You know I hate it when you call me that. It's the stupidest nickname I've ever heard."
"I dunno," Rebecca commented, examining her elbow where it had smashed against the door handle. "Master of Unlocking was pretty dumb, too."
"At least you haven't heard some of the nicknames I have for you when it's just the boys," Barry commented lightly.
"What!?" Rebecca yelped. "Barry, you're such a pig!"
"And he's joking, because he's too afraid of me, and what I'd say to his wife."
Barry grinned wryly. "True. On both accounts." He flashed a look into the backseat at Chris, who looked just... unwell. He had a faraway, sad look in his eyes, like he wasn't even here with them in the car. He hadn't looked this haunted since they'd all found out about Wesker's betrayal of S.T.A.R.S.
"Piers was a really nice kid," Barry said suddenly. "I taught a marksmanship class that he was in. I remembered him because he was so damn good with a scope. It wasn't just about shooting up monsters with him, you know? He really wanted to make a difference. He reminded me of you, Chris, back when you first joined S.T.A.R.S."
"Back before I became the Black Widow, right?" Chris asked, seeing that both Barry and Jill flinched. "I lost my memory, not my fucking hearing," he snapped, turning his gaze to the window, staring morosely out at the landscape. He referred to a whispered nickname that had been going around since Piers's death. First Wesker, then Piers... he really did kill the men he bedded. He couldn't help but smile bitterly at the snow-capped mountains as they sped by. It was actually quite pretty, but Chris just couldn't enjoy it. Actually, he hadn't really enjoyed anything in a while. Not since before that last mission in Edonia. Not since he forgot Piers...
"Okay, guys." Jill was now no-nonsense. "There it is. Let's keep our heads, okay?"
Barry stole another quick look at Chris in the rear-view mirror. He expected to see that same lost, desperate look in Chris's eyes, but now he was all steel and business. He was the Chris that everyone knew and respected. He was the Chris who'd started the BSAA. He was the Chris who'd survived Raccoon City. It was as if Barry had imagined that other expression on his face.
Delta Team's squad leader jogged up to the humvee as Barry parked it near the perimeter border they'd set up around the facility. From the outside, it looked like a hulking shell, the kind of building that would have once been some sort of government owned facility, like a hospital or utilitarian school on a much smaller scale. The bleached stone walls were tagged with graffiti, old and new.
"Any J'avo sightings in the area?" Jill asked as she hopped out of the vehicle, her gun already out.
"No, ma'am. It's been real quiet. We haven't gone in yet, as per your instructions. But there doesn't seem to be any motion from inside. There are a few recent tracks from some kind of truck, but they look like they were made a few days ago."
"How far out did you check for other entrances that may lead into the underground?" Chris asked, pulling out his gun and checking the magazine before slapping it back into place.
"Three miles, Sir. We're still doing an external sweep, looking for more tracks or entrance points, but we don't see anything. The maps of any sewer systems don't show any connection to town, but we're still looking."
"Good," Barry commented, his trusty Desert Eagle in his hands, lovingly polished metal glinting in the sunlight. "If this really is an old Umbrella facility, it's probably got underground passages out the ass."
The four remaining members of S.T.A.R.S. all gave each other a silent nod, and moved towards the building on silent feet. They instinctively fell back into the feeling of giving silent commands and gestures to each other, as if no time at all had passed. Barry and Jill flanked each side of the large double doors that led into the facility, nodding to Chris and Rebecca to proceed. Chris shoulder-checked the door, Rebecca nimbly popping into the building with her gun drawn. She checked both her sides before slowly proceeding. She pointed her gun towards the corners, checking above them in the foyer, as well. She felt Chris at her back, doing the same.
"My God..." Rebecca trailed off, her voice echoing in the large foyer. Her heart leapt in her throat, and she could taste adrenaline and bile. She looked over at Chris, and was sure her complexion was as pale as his own.
"What?" Jill called, pushing into the foyer, sweeping her gun to both sides to check her corners. When she looked at the once grand entryway, she nearly dropped her gun in shock. She heard Barry let out a quiet string of curses behind her, and knew it wasn't her eyes playing tricks on her.
The place was falling apart, but still held some of its former glory. Under the grime, dust and pieces of collapsed floor from the walkway above, the floors still had spots where the marble gleamed through. The wooden banisters for the large double staircase would probably shine again if given some proper care. The weak sunlight coming through the windows showed the bullet casings and old syringes scattered on the floor amongst the grit and old bloodstains on the rugs that would have probably cost a fortune if they'd been taken care of. If cleaned up, it would have looked exactly like the entryway of the mansion where all their lives had changed forever.
If they all hadn't known better, they would have sworn that they were standing in the foyer of the Spencer mansion in Raccoon City.