Disclaimer: I don't own Capcom or Resident Evil. If I did, I'd be making a game out of this instead of a fanfiction.

Warning: Implied Relationships

Author's Note: This is a present for my best friend, Farore-Nara, whose birthday was on the 25th. This was an idea that she just brought up to me today and I had to write it because not writing it just wasn't an option after she randomly shouted it in the car on our way home. Enjoy!

Echoes

Piers had no regrets as he watched Chris punch and pound at the glass separating them. He had a single goal when he injected himself and that was to get Chris out alive. Chris was the real hero in all this, after all. He had been fighting for much longer than Piers and Chris deserved to see his own true potential. Piers may have been good but Chris Redfield was irreplaceable as Captain and Piers knew that.

The B.S.A.A needed Chris. Hell, the world needed Chris and Piers would be damned if he didn't get him out alive. One of them had to survive and Piers was long lost from the moment that needle pierced his skin, even if Chris didn't see it—but Chris was too much of a hero to see it.

Chris Redfield never gave up. He was optimistic, borderline in denial, but it was enough to keep Piers fighting for his life just to get Chris to safety. All he needed to do was get him into that little pod and everything would be okay, that is all that mattered.

"Piers! No, don't do this!"

Oh but he had to. If Piers got into that pod and lost control, Chris would die—they would both die. At least this way, Chris was able to keep on fighting. He had a family and friends that needed him and Piers wouldn't let them down.

"Open the door! God Dammit! LISTEN TO ME!"

This was one order that Piers simply couldn't follow. No amount of Chris's optimism was going to stop him from saving his captain's life.

Chris tried anyway.

"We can still both get out of here! There's still time!"

There wasn't, though. Time had run out when they had entered the room. Piers could barely keep control of himself and the only reason he seemed even aware of the situation was the strong eye connection he was currently holding with his captain even while the facility was falling apart around him.

But it had to end, as everything did, and today was his ending.

So, Piers began walking towards the lever that he knew would save Chris.

"What are you doing? No! Piers, don't! You can still make it out!"

Chris really was making this difficult for Piers. Maybe it was the denial or maybe the caged brunet was so optimistic that he had Piers actually believing that he might make it out alive—but it was a lie; Simply a man in denial.

"GOD DAMMIT PIERS!" Chris shouted, pounding desperately on the glass between them.

Piers listened, one last time, as his gloved hand pushed the lever. A loud red light began to sound and light up the slowly disintegrating room.

"NO!" Chris shouted from his enclosed savior as Piers walked back to the glass. "PIERS! Open the God damn door! That's an order!" Chris pleaded, trying desperately to meet Piers' eyes but Piers simply couldn't look at him.

Piers knew how difficult it would be but Chris was making it far harder than he imagined it would be.

"No…"

Piers looked up. Chris had finally accepted it and understood why Piers was doing this.

And that's when the shuttle took off.

"PIIIIIEEEEEERRRRSSSSS!" Chris shouted, banging away on the glass as Piers simply watched.

It was quiet, despite the falling debris around him. Either Piers couldn't hear Chris's shouting or the brunet had stopped, either way Piers could not have been happier.

Chris was saved. He would live and continue protecting the world because Chris knew it was right, just as Piers did.

Then, of course, Piers felt a shift in the facility and knew something was wrong. It wasn't until the muffle scream of the regenerator traveled through the water and straight through him that he knew what he had to do.

And he did just that.

Waking up wasn't something he really expected to do. The facility had exploded, he'd watched it from the inside as it collapsed and finally blew up. Whether something fell on him or it was the explosion that had knocked him out wasn't really important. What was important was the fact that Piers was supposed to be dead.

"I certainly didn't expect to see you," came an English voice from somewhere behind him.

Piers sat up, as he was laying down on some sort of strangely soft surface, and gazed at his surroundings. The sky was orange in color, going deep into sunset and the light bouncing off the water beneath him made an odd glow around him.

It took a few moments for Piers to really establish what he'd seen.

He was currently sitting on the water surface as if there was some sort of invisible glass that was keeping him afloat but he wasn't floating. He was sitting on the water.

And to make matters worse, the blond speaking to him was standing on the water beside him.

"You're—"

"Albert Wesker. Yes, I'd assume you've heard of me if not my son," the blond said the ending of the sentence coldly causing shivers to run up Piers' spine.

Piers stood before doing a full-fledged circle—they were in the middle of the ocean. There was no land anywhere to be seen and nothing was really making sense. His arm was back to normal and, assumingly, his face as well and his clothes looked as if nothing had been ripped or torn besides the missing patch from his shoulder.

"But you're—"

"Dead, yes." Wesker said simple, his eyes never leaving the ocean.

Albert Wesker was wearing the same costume that he was described to have died in; a midnight black shirt that zipped up to his neck, black pants, and of course a leather coat. The blond was lacking his infamous sunglasses but Piers didn't really think that mattered right now.

"So that means—"

"You are also dead."

"Good," Piers muttered quietly as he stood, stepping hesitantly on the water that washed over his shoes but left no trace that he was wet.

"That's an odd thing to say. You are happy you died?" The blond questioned, looking towards the now ex-B.S.A.A agent in interest.

"If I was alive, Chris wouldn't be and you would," Piers said simply, eyeing Wesker almost hesitantly as if expecting this to be a dream.

"Hm," Wesker muttered, a smile appearing slowly on his face.

"You wouldn't understand," Piers muttered causing Wesker to shake his head, chuckling rather dangerously.

"I do, actually. Chris and I had a complicated relationship filled with battles and games—"Wesker stated as he casually shouldered off his jacket and folded it over his left arm. "—it was also filled with a sort of addictiveness that only we could provide for each other."

"You're saying he loved you?" Piers asked in disbelief, completely unable to see his captain falling for the enemy.

"Truly, I don't know. Perhaps in S.T.A.R.S but, as I said, it was complicated. Whether or not we cared for each other doesn't matter all that much now, does it?" Wesker asked with a smirk.

"Guess not."

"We are here for a reason. I have remained in this place ever since our ending battle and it may have been odd but I was somehow captivated at the thought of Chris winning. After all these years of playfully going back and forth, he'd finally done it. Not only had he defeated me, he had also restored a piece of him that I'd thought lost."

"Really?"

"Chris had lost the ability to care. He questioned whether all the fighting was worth it; I could see it in his eyes every time we faced each other."

"Why did you stay?" Piers asked, inching beside Wesker who was only feet from him. "Couldn't you leave?"

"Yes, I suppose, but just as I planned to, Chris got lost again. I seemed to find a sort of enjoyment in watching over him until—"

"The accident."

"Whatever you wish to call it. I suppose it was your turn to save him," Wesker chuckled as he shifted slightly to glance at Piers.

"You think you saved him? You tried taking over the world!"

"I felt the world needed controlling. Whether I was right or not no longer matters, does it?"

"It matters because you abandoned your son to do it and he is still alive."

"I did not abandon Jake. While in Africa, I sent a job through Tricell. That connection opened up his career as a Mercenary and, from what I hear, he takes after his father," Wesker stated, another smirk appearing on his lips.

Several quiet moments went by before Piers looked at Wesker and asked, "do you want to explain why we're standing here?"

"Chris is coming and I assumed it was important for you to see."

"What do you mean he's coming?" Piers asked only to hear a low rumbling from beneath them.

The large pod that held Chris burst to the surface in front of them before dipping down and bobbing right back up again. It sat there, floating for a long moment with both sets of eyes staring intently at it. A hissing noise erupted and the door separated into two parts, revealing a very alive Chris Redfield.

"Chris..." Piers muttered quietly as he watched the brunet walk to the edge of the pod and glance out.

"He can't see us," Wesker assured as Chris looked out over the ocean.

Chris then looked down at his hand, opening the clutched fingers to reveal Piers' B.S.A.A patch, torn from his shirt.

"Seems I was correct," the blond stated while he glanced at Piers who stared in awe at the look of pure sadness planted on Chris's face.

"I was supposed to save him-" Piers muttered, chuckling dryly at the notion. "-just like you were."

"You understand," Wesker stated.

Piers wasn't given a chance to respond as the distant sound of a helicopter approaching became clear. All three looked up to see the helicopter spot Chris and begin lowering to meet and save him.

"I can't believe you stayed with him this whole time," Piers muttered, his eyes on Chris who kept glancing to the patch in his hand.

"Someone had to. We may have been enemies but I always saw something in Chris I respected. It was the same trait that encouraged you t—"

"No, everything about him made me want to save him. Not only his bravery or the fact that he never backs down but his optimism—that damn optimism that almost had me believing I would survive. I don't mean just now but back when I found him drinking in a bar with no real recollection of who he was and what he had accomplished," Piers said, the helicopter getting louder as it approached.

Wesker smirked, a chuckle hidden behind his words as he turned fully to Piers and said, "that is why the job is now yours."

"Wha-what?"

"My privilege of looking after Chris was a limited one and it is now you who will be doing it. This way if he fails to come across someone else who may save him, instead of seeing an enemy in his first moments of death, he'll see you," Wesker's smirk remained though, if Piers didn't know better, he would assume it was out of sadness rather than anything else.

"There's always Jill Valentine-" Piers suggested, remembering the stories Chris told of her and his sister. "-his sister too, aren't they better for this?"

"They have done their jobs, now you."

And the blond was gone because there were no more questions, no more worries—Piers would walk with Chris until the end.

Piers sat in the opposite chair to Chris's. The two were in the middle of a bar, similar to the one they had met in, but Chris wasn't a drunkard. No, Chris Redfield was Captain of the B.S.A.A and doing a damn well job of it.

To put it simply, Piers couldn't be happier.

He sat there, watching Chris cut at the steak that he had ordered only moments ago. He took a tentative bite before giving a sad but pleasurable grin. Perhaps it was a bit nostalgic to him, being in the position he was now but Chris would never say it.

Piers had saved him; given him a chance that he only wished he could repay because somewhere deep under all the appreciation was a painful guilt that told him that Piers deserved to be alive. Piers deserved to be eating this steak, drinking this coffee, living the life he was meant to.

But that's why Piers was there watching over him. Piers Nivans took that guilt away by simply being around Chris and that's how Chris was able to face the B.S.A.A member that walked in.

"Captain, we've received new orders."

Chris looked at the agent a moment before setting down the coffee cup that was almost placed to his lips. It took him a moment – only a moment – to stand and answer with a simple, "alright, better get to it then."

Piers stood as well, a smile on his face as the agent nodded and responded "yes, sir," before walking away.

Chris didn't move, staring at the empty seat where Piers stood, unknown to the captain.

"That's right, Chris, keep moving forward," Piers whispered.

Whether or not Chris felt the presence of the inspiring words, Piers was unsure (because Wesker never explained how any of this really worked). What mattered was Chris turned and followed the B.S.A.A agent out the door and onto another mission where he would go and save countless people, just as he was meant to do.

Yes, Piers sometimes felt lonely but there were times, in quiet moments, when Chris would look around an empty room or an empty environment and he would quietly thank Piers and those were the times that made everything worth it. Those times when Chris somehow knew Piers was there, watching, waiting, helping and he was actually thankful for it just meant the world to Piers because he knew, one day, Chris would join him.

It was an event that Piers awaited in both grief and excitement but it was a day that would lead to an eternity of happiness—the day that Chris would join him.

I certainly hope you guys enjoyed this request despite it being so different from what I usually write.

As you guys know, I'm taking requests and commissions so if you're interested, contact me!

~Raven1050