The remade version of my first longer story.
Warning: Man-on-Man-action, M-rated scenes, partly depressing themes
I do not claim any rights for most of the characters, because they belong to CAPCOM.
However I do claim right of the very few OC´s in this fictional piece.
Chapter 1: About dreams, coffee and office work
A frightened gasp escaped his raw throat. A small amount of light from the street lamps outside made it's way through the thin curtains, which meant that the night hadn't left town just yet.
With closed eyes he arose from the double bed and wiped some of the sweat of his damp forehead. He regarded the room through fully, still groggy.
His soft covers laid next to him on the wooden floor, the deeps folds in them illuminated by the dim light. His boxers hung loosely on his slim waist.
It was fairly cold in his bedroom, but that was nothing unusual for the month December anyways. Also he never really heated up his home to much to save up on his bills.
The subtle fear was yet shaking him to his core. Knowing for certain that he wouldn't be able to get more rest anymore, he stood up. His bed squeaked in protest. The middle-aged ,am was still dizzy from his sudden awakening.
The alarm clock on his nightstand read 4:24 o'clock in angry red neon letters, he noted absentmindedly as he swung his legs down.
With a heavy sigh he took a few steps towards the drawer that was located near the window. The man dressed himself in his ordinary working clothes and lifted the drapes to look out. Nothing really caught his eyes.
The glass fogged under his warm hand, the sky was clear, but seeing the stars was as difficult as it always proofed to be in a city like this. He hoped that there wouldn't be any rain that day, which was in retrospective a rather irrational thought.
After putting the fabric back into it´s former place, he went into the bathroom. The comb in hand he looked into the mirror.
The lack of sleep was beginning showing itself on his face. Dark rings began to surface under his brown eyes. His skin was a few shades paler than it normally would; almost sickly so. At least his hair was as shiny as it always used to be. He squeezed some gel into his palm and rubbed it into the light brown strands. His hair was combed back and stayed perfectly in shape.
The male went into his little kitchen that only he was using and opened his refrigerator. A wave of nausea hit him at the smell of various food kinds that he once used to certainly like more.
After that specific kind of nightmare, he never could bring himself to eat anything. If he thought about that a moment, he hadn't really eaten a lot lately. It was that time of the year again after all.
His weight was dropping more and more. His rip-cage slowly began to show through his pallid skin. Instead of forcing something down just to clean it of his floor a couple of moments later, he grabbed his jacket, scarf and keys, and sat on the stairs for a moment to put his shoes on.
Then he headed out of the old apartment building. The door that fell shut after him was the only sound that bid him goodbye.
He would walk to work just to kill some time. It had been a reoccurring theme lately anyways. There was also something good in it though, since he actually got some practice that he wasn't really able to get after work finished.
Of course the streets of Raccoon City were empty as they were known to be. Seriously, who would be outside at this unholy hour?
A few of the bad guys, surely, he thought to himself, curling his hand inside his coat pockets.
Focusing on the cracked asphalt to his feet, he strolled along the road somewhat lazily.
After a while he could have sworn that he picked up steps behind him, trailing him. The paranoia took over and he peered over his shoulder as indiscreet as the brunet could manage.
There was nothing but creeping darkness and the sounds stopped as well.
After holding his breath for a short extra moment, he continued.
Again there were constant sounds resonating of the bare house walls.
Someone was following him, he was sure of that. The man had learned early enough that step sounds combined with the dark were something that shouldn't underestimate and his feet began to carry him slightly faster.
Somewhere behind him a metallic trash bin hit the ground with a loud, startling sound. The sound letting him twitch almost spastic.
Panic send him into a flashback that left him unaware of the rest of the world.
The dark room he would never forget about.
Footsteps trailing over wooden boarding.
The foul and sickly sweet smell biting in his nose.
Slowly maliciously trailing.
The rain hitting the window so hard, he thought it would shatter under it.
The almost silent and hushed pleas of a little boy.
`Mommy? You alright?...Please wake up.`
A violent yank on his shoulder got him a free trip back to reality. He had forcefully run into another person while sharply rounding a corner.
`Amigo?` A dark voice coated with a thick Spanish accent sounded as he slowly began to regain his senses. `Are you okay?`
The brown-haired felt the two big hands grasping on to his shoulders, supporting his weight and thankfully keeping him from falling over. He surprised male let out a hushed breath of air as his vision flicked up at the other just briefly. `Yes!`
`Are you sure? It kinda looked like you wanted to run a marathon there.` The foreigner smiled friendly.
`I'm late for work actually.` The smaller bowed his head down in apology, looking quite abashed. `S-sorry though!`
A deep chuckle escaped the black-haired. `It's okay, amigo.`
In the back of his head the brown-haired knew that the reasoning he choose was the easier way out, since "being afraid of the dark and footsteps" counted for civilians but in no way for a police officer.
His hands were still shaking from the semi-sprint and the adrenalin or maybe it was the cold, he wasn't too sure.
`Are you really alright? You look kinda...` He gestured with his hand as if he was searching for the right word. `...shaken.`
`No really, I´m okay.` A thin smile was thrown up to the other while the smaller male was fiddling with his hands nervously. Hopefully the stranger would interpret his attitude as the strange-awkward type, rather than the fearful kind.
`Never mind it then.` They stood still for a short time. The Spaniard stretched out his hand in a friendly gesture. `By the way, I´m Luis Sera.`
`I-I´m Brad Vickers...Nice to meet you.` Then, for the first time, Brad took a real look at the other person.
Short jet black hair that stopped just a little above his rather broad shoulders. He was a few inches taller than the brown-haired man. From the dark shadows under his eyes and the light fuss around the chin of the stranger Brad figured that he must have had a rough night as well. Luis was dressed in a dark coat that fit his form rather nicely.
The other had the air of a gentleman around him, which his appearance only strengthened.
`I think I´ll take my leave now...` The dark haired looked away and scratched embarrassed at the back of his head. `I need to check in into a motel and find myself a packet of nice cigarettes. Maybe some warm breakfast. Do you know a good place around here? I just arrived and I don´t know who else I could ask for advice...`
´Of course.´ The brunet was always happy when he could help. The main reason for his job choice had been that. `Just walk right down the street. The second alley you turn left. Then you come across a market place. Between the church to your...right and the bookstore right next to- that's the path you want to follow. The road you get to there will lead you right to Sam´s dinner. Next to it is some cheap, but pretty comfy motel.`
Luis took a piece of paper and a pencil out of the suitcase that the brown-haired hadn't even noticed up until now. `Could you may repeat that? You spoke a little fast.`
`Sorry...` He repeated and waited for the black-haired to scribble everything down, before he explained further.
The cold began to inch it´s way into their clothes. `Well, I think we should part now...Since you were late to begin with, right?` The smile he received wasn't distrusting, but amused.
Brad just nodded in silent acceptance.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo xoxoxoxoxox
His half-frozen arms rested on the railing which belonged to the Goldwater Bridge near the police station. He dazed into the pleasant mixture of pink and orange that presented itself on the horizon.
The shadows of the night were fought back by the golden rays of the rising sun, slowly creeping back into their hiding place, already waiting for the darkness to return again in the evening.
He watched in fascination as the warm colors mixed together.
Brad regarded his watch. Fifteen more minutes and Captain Wesker would arrive at the office like he did every other morning. When it came to his captain, some could probably set their clocks after his everyday habits.
Albert Wesker was a precise and strict person, fitting for a leading position in the police force for sure. He was a man of little to none words, but when it came down to it, he would always be someone to lecture where it was needed.
Since he still had a small amount of time to spare, he decided to enjoy the view some more. His eyes trailed along the thin lines that had formed in the sky while he had made his way through town.
With every curve and twirl he traced, his mind began to wander further and further, back to where his dreams led him every single night lately.
`Tomorrow we will go out and play a little? How does that sound?`
`With mommy? I really want to!` There was a heavy knock on the door.
`I´ll be right there!` The boy bounced happily on the worn out couch, while his mom clothed in a simple apron went to answer the door.
His eyes ripped open almost by themselves, staring mortified at the colorful sky with a strangely nostalgic feeling. He sniffed a couple of times, since his nose had begun running somewhere along the way.
This was definite the reason he hadn't been able to sleep and eat proper since god knew when. It was related to the season really. It left him cold and empty every year as it also did to other people in a somewhat different but kind of same aspect.
The brown-haired turned around and went straight for the police office building. The car of his captain was just pulling up into a parking lot nearby.
Superiors always had the comfort of reserved parking spaces, a luxury that almost every other employee could only dream of at night.
The blond male unmounted from his sleek, black upper class company car and locked the door behind himself.
`Eager to start work early, Vickers?` The light British accent sounded graceful, like always. The intelligence that the man clearly possessed carried onward by it.
`Good morning, sir.` The brunet answered stoically.
As the two men entered the police station together, the younger one tried to follow the quick strides of his blond superior. The hallways were still lighted, like always. The lights never went out around here, given a missing energy supply that is.
When they came across the front desk, he gave the well known woman on watch a friendly nod. Poor woman, the night shift at a police station is always exhausting. She still had 3 hours to go through and she looked extremely tired, although she smiled back.
`Morning Brad, morning sir.` Almost everyone would pay Wesker more attention and respect than any other. Of course he was a high ranked guy, but he seemed to radiate a intensive amount of self-confidence; like a spell.
They came to a stop before the familiar door leading to the S.T.A.R.S section. His captain pulled the fitting key out of his pocket and opened the door to the Alpha Team office with practiced ease. After entering he walked gracefully to his desk, searching a drawer next to it, that held quite a few files.
Brad went over to his own and took of his jacket and scarf. The office was comfortable warm. He didn't even noticed how much warmth he had lost by standing around outside in the open. He rubbed his freezing hands.
With a light thud a folder landed on the wooden surface.
`Could you may search information on this five persons? Criminal records and all dates available.` It wasn't a question it was a order, but he got used to that over the years as well.
`Of course, sir.` So he started up his outdated computer while his captain already turned around again and went back to his previous place. Brad decided to get some coffee, because the computer always took its' time.
`The usual, sir?` The brown-haired looked at his captain for a short moment.
`Yes.` The blond had opened a file and answered without looking up from his already intense reading.
So the brunet just went out of the door to get two drinks out of the dark brown drug machine around the corner of the second hall way that he grew addicted to over the years.
There it stood in all it´s glory.
He took two dollar out of his pocket and fed them after another to the machine. One cup with and the other sans milk or sugar. He grabbed them and went down the hall where he came from while entering.
The brunet put the cup down on the marvel reception desk. Kathy looked surprised but smiled grateful.
`Thanks...You are an angel in disguise, you know that right?` Brad winked shyly at her.
`Just see it as payback for staying longer, when I needed some help organizing the evidence storage last week.`
`You are really sweet...`
`Brad don't go flirting with the ladies this early in the morning...` Interrupted a tired but still mocking voice from the entrance.
`Good morning, Chris.` The two near the reception said in unison.
`Morning.` A muffled reply and the owner of it went on with his way.
`And there he goes again.` Kathy said while tugging back her dark hair. `Always the same rude manners.`
`Well some just never change.` Brad answered. `Sorry but I have to go to work now. See you later.`
`Yeah...Thank you for the coffee again.` The male went of to get one extra cup of black coffee.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo x
Kathy had left two hours ago. But not without leaving Brad one of his favorite-snacks, chocolate covered bread-sticks.
Brad took one and nibbled at the top, holding it up in his mouth and tasting some melted chocolate.
His finger tapped on the keys eagerly. Different windows popped up on his screen. He already gathered all the information belonging to Mister Dylan Coleman and Miss Aya Kazuki. The printed pages lay on top of each other. Three left to go.
On the surface there weren't information on neither of them, but as a computer protegee he knew where to search.
He switched fast from one to another window. Ivan Titow. A 25 years old man that came to America as an immigrant 12 years ago. He works as a clerk in a office somewhere in the middle of Raccoon City. No police-record.
Brad printed the information out and put them onto the still growing pile.
Next up was a guy named John Stevenson. He was in his late 50´s and lived with his family, his wife and two sons, a little out of Raccoon. No real account of crimes about him either. Just small things like driving to fast, but even that just three times. He was one of the bigger fish. The man was a leading force in one of the few huge companies in that area.
There the printer went again and the stack grew slowly. His hand grabbed the last chocolate treat available.
Last one on the list was Peter Smith. This man was 33 years old and lived alone in some little apartment in one of the worst parts of this city. No work at the moment and nursing two children without a mother. Mayhem against a guy named Jason Nyle.
Brad pressed the print button and leaned back in his chair to stretch. Crack. He groaned. The papers went onto the pile.
`Task already done, Vickers?` The emotionless voice came from the other and of the room.
`Y-yes, sir!` Brad put the documents in alphabetic order hectically and finished before Wesker reached his desk with his fast steps. The blond took the papers out of his hand and began to read in silence. Without further commentary he walked back to his own working place.
Today only Chris, Wesker and himself were on duty in the office. Barry and Joseph were on patrol. Jill had off for the day.
`Sir?` The computer expert of the Alpha Team asked after a while. `What´s my next charge?`
The pale man looked up with his sunglasses covered eyes. `Go over to the office of Bravo Team. They need some help over there.`
Brad stood up and put the empty box of sweets into the trash can on his way out. He felt two stares burn into his back.
His shoes squeaked a little as he stepped through the corridors. The bright light from the lamps reflected off of the clean floor. A faint smell of cleaning supplies bit in his nose. The walls were plain white. Not a lot of pictures either.
Near the walls some chairs were placed for waiting people, but they held no real color, just black with metal legs. Not comfy either as he had discovered in young years.
This ambiance always made Brad think of hospitals. He hated hospitals.
`What a poor boy.` The voices chatted. `He had such luck he was found.`
Luck? he wouldn't call it luck at all. How could they?
He was everything, but not lucky.
The small boy watched the two woman with unseeing eyes. Cold without emotion. Thin, scratchy fabric hung over his limp frame.
They kept on talking outside of the room without realizing that he could hear every single,
fucking word.
`Such a poor soul.` Why was he even here? It must been something horrible, but his memories were blank. What was going on?
`Hey Chickenheart.` His teammate Joseph had come up with that one. He hated the disgracing name with a passion. `What are you doing here?` The Alpha-pilot turned around and stared up at the face of Forest Speyer. The other´s dark-brown hair reached a little past his broad shoulders.
`I´m on my way to your office. Reinforcement.` His voice was low and polite.
`Ah...I see. Right on time. We are running a little low on forces right now.` The sharp-shooter of Bravo Team replied while he began to move down the hall way again.
The smaller one didn't even bother to ask. It was not really that important why and if the other would want to tell him he just would.
Soon they reached the agency. Forest stopped and opened the door. Brad stepped inside after him.
`Hello.` Again his voice was quiet. He may know all the people in this room but still he tried to get as less attention as possible.
`Hi.` The cheerful voice of Rebecca Chamber, the Medic of Bravo Team, the only medic in the special forces to be correct, sounded sweetly in the room. Brad smiled.
Enrico Marini sat at his desk typing a report, while the only woman in the room went back to flipping through a medical book. A few maps of the near area laid outspread on the desk of Edward Dewey. He seemed to search something that Brad couldn't quite discover from the distance, but he had already marked some spots. Forest sat down at his desk and began tapping something down.
The two tables belonging to Richard Aiken and Kenneth J. Sullivan were empty. The small male looked around in order to find them.
`Aiken fell down his stairs yesterday and is in hospital with a broken leg and Sullivan got off for today.` The captain of this team, Enrico, answered the unasked demand.
Then the room filled with silence again. Brad felt a little forgotten as he stood by the door. ` Excuse me?` His voice wavered a little. A questioning look from Enrico. `What am I supposed to do again?`
`Could you may help Edward a little?` The Bravo Captain said it in a kind of way that made the Alpha pilot think it must have been obvious what his task was. Brad looked at the other pilot who´s eyebrows were knitted in concentration and frustration.
`O-of course!` There was a light chuckle from the female.
`You don´t have to be shy Brad.` A soft smile. `We don´t bite.`
`Most of the time.` Forest mumbled under his breath.
`...Okay.` He went over to Edward and put a chair next to his. `So how can I help you?`
`I try to find all the places around this area where it is possible to land with the chopper.` Brad sat there silent for a moment.
`Aren't you suppose to have a map with all of them?`
`Yes...And I had. Until someone had the astonishing idea to fucking BURN it.` He shot a heated glare in the direction of the innocently whistling Forest.